#he has her eyes and her nose and he even carries himself with her confidence

[amazinglyashy]

Hi! I was wondering if I could request a prompt where the reader is out at night with the LIs, wearing a pretty outfit, a man just approaches her and rudely asks “how much for a bj?” How would they react/protect her from such a creep?

(Sorry, for my English, I hope it made sense haha🤞🏼)

Very Minor N/SFW Warning!! This one really made me laugh because this has happened to me before, and the situation mostly pans out with my own partner having to yank me away to avoid having to post bail on me later in the evening. Remember to leash your dogs kids! Thank you for the request!! <3

LaDS men when you get catcalled/propositioned on the street

Xavier -

He's apologizing profusely to you because the ensuing bloodspray from how hard he punched the guy in the nose got on your dress and he genuinely feels awful about it.

There is not much to it, besides he acted embarrassingly quickly, to the point you wonder to yourself if he's just been silently waiting for this moment to come.

He's used to going out with you for drinks or evening dates- it's one of the more common ways for the two of you to hang out aside from spending the evening in one of your apartments with the other. Juggling work and clocking out with social activities would also mean walking late at night, to go to a movie or even on a snack run.

So needless to say, he has in fact, been mentally preparing himself for something like this to happen.

He can't help it.

He doesn't ever want to see you disrespected- he doesn't care the context. Work, family, friends-

And now, what, a stranger asking you for sexual favors?

You wait calmly with him while he speaks to the officers about what happened, trying to contain your giggles at how sheepishly he looks at the ground, his face still painted with the most adorable anger.

Zayne -

Quickly, he's pushed you behind himself and holding eye contact with the guy. It doesn't matter if he's drunk, or perfectly sober, Zayne won't excuse someone saying such a ridiculous thing to you.

He has his usual air of politeness and manners, but the bite in his voice is more than apparent, even to someone who doesn't know him. Dressed as nicely as he is with the air he carries around him, it's a weird experience for those who don't know how protective Zayne can get.

He will tell the man to give you an apology and back off, or there will be consequences.

You know what those consequences are, and despite feeling smug about how protective Zayne is, you're trying to grab his arm and stop him, to no avail.

If the creep tries to reach for you, Zayne will back up into you to force you back gently, and the man will quickly realize that he can't reach forward anymore-

Even as Zayne walks away with you, the ice is still creeping up the man's body. Slow enough, but still moving.

Hopefully an OTTO calls for help in time. Hypothermia at night would suck.

Rafayel -

He's immediately between you and the guy, hand long since dropped your own as he crosses his arms and stares the guy down.

If you hadn't known him so long, you would expect him to fire off a tirade of insults and comments at the guy- but you know Rafayel. You know him well.

He tells the guy to back off, in the most simple of terms as he glare is enough to set the man alight- and Rafayel's evol does just that when the guy doesn't seem to back down- lighting up the shoulders of his clothing and causing him to flay around screaming, as Rafayel pulls you to keep walking.

The amount of tasteful compliments on your attire rise, and you know he's doing it to keep you from internalizing the earlier interaction and stop dressing how you want.

He doesn't need some random freak to keep you from expressing yourself how you want to. Of course, he'll always find you attractive, and the little outfit you're wearing is doing numbers to him, but that's not his focus here at all.

He wants you to feel comfortable, confident-

And he'll do everything in his power to make sure you always do.

Sylus -

I am not entirely sure the man who's asking you has finished his sentence before he's slammed once against a nearby building and then released.

Sylus makes no motion to indicate that it was his doing, continuing to walk along with you to wherever the two of you had been going in the first place-

But you knew.

You had seen his stupid red mist envelope him.

For a second, you'd been scared that he was going to kill the guy- and while you knew someone who was comfortable saying such a thing to someone needed to be put in their place, 'murder' was not at all the same as 'putting someone in their place'.

No, he was just slightly- sort of- broken.

Just a bit.

Sylus won't react much, he may give a passing comment about the man, but otherwise, he's back to complimenting you or conversing with you about whatever subject you two had been discussing prior to the creep showing up.

"Sorry, sweetie. I know you don't like bugs. I tried to handle it as... efficiently, as possible."

[loserharrington]

are we on the same page here?

[aprilcolours]

blackheart

A/N: OC is Visenya, daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon, second eldest child after Jace and before Luc. She rides Vermithor, the Bronze Fury. This is about SHOW Benjicot Blackwood NOT book!! The three seconds we’ve seen of him at least lol <3 Valyrian is translated at the bottom

part two - part three - part four

—

When Vermithor landed, a slew of muck and water sprayed into the humid Riverlands air. Visenya the Second wrinkled her nose and brushed some of the mud specks off her riding leathers. 

She reassured her dragon, “Sȳz, jikagon arghugon,” and slid promptly off onto his shoulder, before deftly sticking the ten foot drop to the ground. The marshes were full of tents, troops mustered from across the realm to gather here in this central region, where the flags waved black. She had made sure to land a little ways away, wouldn’t want to crush any of our own now would we, she thought with a slight smirk. 

She was the daughter of the Rogue Prince, and carried herself as such. There was a latent danger in the way her lithe form prowled forward, a ferocity to the confident tilt of her shoulders. Despite her stature as a young woman, and a slight one at that, she cut an imposing figure. 

The bannerman watched her approach, most tilting their head in recognition at least, some falling into deep bows. She stalked through the lines of troops, searching for the central war council. 

Visenya had flown to the Riverlands a fortnight hence, to guard their troops from a possible attack by Vhagar, to see her mother’s will done in the strategizing, and for a third purpose that was known only to her and her mother. At the center of a camp, a large table had been brought forth, encrusted with maps of the region and the current positions of hosts. Gathered around the table were a group of knights and lords sworn to Rhaenyra: Lords Darklyn, Staunton, Massey, and a group of young lords that had come to be known as the Lads: Lord Kermit Tully, Ser Oscar Tully, and Lord Benjicot Blackwood. 

Benjicot Blackwood had come into his lordship quite recently, with the death of his father mere months ago at the beginning of the war. Despite this, he had already made a formidable reputation for himself as ruthless, bloodthirsty, and a force to be reckoned with. He was not necessarily physically imposing, favoring a lean build, but he had a certain gleam in his eye. Almost rabid, Visenya had thought to herself with a small laugh. 

She looked at each of the gathered as she reached the table, daring any of these older men to show anything other than submission. Each of the lords bowed, averting their eyes. Bar one. Lord Blackwood always held her gaze as he bowed, eyes gleaming and a crooked smile playing at his lips.

She raised a brow, unimpressed. 

It only seemed to make his smile curl even wider. 

“The Western front has shifted closer, your Highness,” Lord Massey informed her. Visenya finally tore her eyes away from the Blackwood to observe the map. Indeed, the Green host mustered at Lannisport had crept closer in the night. It now dared to encroach on the edges of Tully land. 

“The numbers mustered are not insignificant,” Lord Darklyn added. 

“They are when compared to the whole force of the Reach that soon converges upon us from the South,” Lord Staunton argued. The combined Tyrell, Hightower, and Florent host was decidedly large. 

“A problem only made worse if the Lannisters are allowed to join them,” Darklyn shot back. It was clear this argument had been happening for some time at this point. 

As she considered the map and heeded the advisors, Visenya felt a certain piercing dark gaze boring holes into her. She did not indulge him further with another look, but she could feel the unending weight of his stare as it did not abate. 

“We march on the Lannisters,” Visenya declared, voice carrying high and clear. The council ceased their squabbling. 

A short silence descended, as the Lords who disagreed weighed whether they would be endangering themselves if they expressed their opinion. 

“We will cut them off at Lydden, before they can turn southwards,” she continued, gesturing to the spot on the map. “Darklyn is right, they cannot be allowed to join the Reach. Lannister forces will have supplies from Lannisport, so they will not have been affected by the blockade. Time is our greatest ally at the moment. We have the whole of the North marching to us,” Visenya spoke plainly and matter-of-factly, but at this point she smiled slightly and tossed her silver braid over one shoulder. 

“Furthermore, the Green houses are well… green. The longer they wait, they longer they have to ponder tales of fearsome Northmen who need neither food nor sleep, to whisper legends of Rhaenyra the Cruel and her fleet of dragonriders,” she paused to shoot Blackwood the barest hint of a grin, “to hear word of Bloody Ben and the carnage they march towards.” 

The Lads laughed and jostled Ben’s shoulders. 

“I hear he slew fifty men in a single evening over his cup of tea!” Ser Oscar teased, voice mockingly high. Blackwood ducked his head and laughed, rustling the other two men back. 

“The flower knights will quiver and shake their way back to Highall,” Visenya finished, looking to the council members for dissent. 

“What of Vhagar, your highness?” Lord Staunton asked, “The kinslayer will surely come calling.”

Visenya tilted her head. 

“That is why I am here,” she answered. 

With that, and a few more details of the march agreed upon, the council was adjourned. As he began to walk towards his troops however, Visenya called out to him,

“Oh and Blackwood?”

Ben turned back to face her, taking the address as an invitation to step closer. Closer than any other dared step. She had to tilt her head back slightly to look him in the eye. 

“Be sure to give them something to talk about,” she commanded. Her voice did not falter even as she felt her heart begin to hammer in her chest. 

With a lopsided grin and another bow, “I swear it, my lady.”

—

The battle at Lydden was a roaring success. Vermithor made sure to roar it across the skies. Together, Visenya and her dragon burned whole battalions and paved the way for the Black troops to carve through the Lannister forces. It was not without its casualties to the numbers, but still a resounding victory for the Queen. 

In the aftermath, they had landed in a small forest slightly away from the troops, who she could hear were already carousing. Visenya used the flat of one of her blades to scrape dried blood from Vermithor’s scales. 

“Messy business, isn't it,” a voice rang out from behind her, with his signature teasing lilt. Ben stood at the other edge of the clearing, grinning, also covered in blood and mud. She turned, raising an eyebrow at his antics. 

“What I thought was courage I see now might be stupidity,” she responded with a teasing tone of her own, “to approach a dragon on your lonesome.” 

He approached further, despite her warning, and like a moth to a flame she was drawn closer. 

“Ah but I am not alone, am I?” He said, almost breathless still from the battle they had just fought. They drew near together in the center of the clearing. “And my princess is a great dragon rider who would not allow harm to befall me,” he intoned in a low voice. 

“Ha! I have left court only to find flatterers in the fields,” she replied. Perhaps the bloodlust had gone to her head but Visenya ignored any thoughts of impropriety, choosing to match his grin with one of her own. “

“What is it you want, Lord Blackwood?”

Surprisingly, his expression shifted. The giddiness receded, and what rose upon his features then was a simmering focus. It was not unlike the expression he wore in the midst of battle. After a heartbeat of tension, Benjicot Blackwood stepped even closer. Gazing down at her with that signature glint of crazed gleam in his eyes, he confessed, 

“Since meeting you, your highness… my desires have become uniquely singular.”

Even with her years of courtly training, Visenya could not hide her shock. Or her blush. 

“Let none say you are not bold,” she whispered, stupefied. He chuckled slightly and noted,

“So you think me both bold and courageous.”

“Did I say that,” she teased breathlessly, still gathering her bearings.

“You did,” he replied simply, eyes dark and hooded. 

He was enjoying watching her on the back foot for once, she could tell. She felt a flicker of temper rise and latched onto it. Visenya leveled her haughtiest at look at him and remarked, 

“Our surroundings are hardly appropriate for a marriage proposition, do you not think Lord Blackwood?”

Her indignance only seemed to amuse him further. 

“On the contrary, my lady, they are perfect. Together, we have won a great victory and live to see another day. In war, this is the best one could hope for.” 

She considered his words, considered the whole of Benjicot Blackwood and his proposition. 

Certainly an unconventional choice, she thought. I think mother would like it. 

She considered her third purpose for venturing out across the realm: to seek a husband.

And she kissed him.

Benjicot Blackwood kissed like he was drowning man and she was air itself. He kissed like she might change her mind at any moment and he would make every second count. He was all teeth and tongue and grasping pulling hands at her waist, her arms, her face. 

“Do not get blood in my hair,” she broke away to command, voice breathy but firm.

His laugh echoed into the night. 

—

A/N: Truly insane that I wrote this and he's not even in the show yet lmaoo

Sȳz, jikagon arghugon - good, go hunt

i will post this on ao3 too, and i might add more if i feel so inclined!!

[jojissalsa]

dunno who agrees, but leon would love cuddle fucking. (mdni, please)

was thinking abt this all night cause i always have a hard time sleeping without thinking of him. totally normal btw.

re2!leon would be so tired after every shift, being a rookie is tough work. even if it's just stupid ass reports he has to file or sitting in a police car for hours just watching people, he's just glad he can come back home to you. you're usually asleep by the time he gets back home from work, and it's like you knew what he would wanna do after he gets ready for bed. your arm stretched out, a nice, big space in front of you to slip into. and he does, and he just melts when you bring him closer, your hand rubbing lovingly at his waist. you whisper sweet nothings about how hard he works, how he should be easier on himself. it's all true, you just can't help but remind him that he deserves some time to himself as well. something to clear his mind and ease his stress before he goes insane from mundane paperwork. so he doesn't mind when your hand starts to wander slightly down, nails grazing under his sweats as his breathing starts to pick up. he buries his nose in the crook of your neck as he whines when your hand slips down his boxers, pulling his hard cock out and positioning him inside your soaked panties. he loves doing this, loves feeling how wet you are as he holds you oh so tight, the sound of skin slapping ever so softly as he fucks your thighs. your hands tangle themselves in his hair, moaning and murmuring about how good he is, how sweet of a boy he is, and you can feel him getting close. his cock kicks and presses perfectly against your clit, and it doesn't take long for him to cum inside your panties. "thank you baby, fuck, so good to me. you know how much i love you, right? love you more than anything.." he gets so sentimental, so frazzled after his high because he just needs you to know. that he loves you so, so much.

he would get a lot more confident the older he gets, i mean we all know how much of a cocky bastard he is. it's in his nature to be a smug piece of shit, not that you mind obviously. you're obsessed with him regardless. so when he finds you sleeping on the couch after waiting all night for him, he can't help but tease you about it when he carries you to the bedroom. you tug at his shirt when he sets you down, and he reassures you that he just needs to get ready for bed. the relief you feel when he finally slips into bed is unmatched, his hand finding it's usual place under your shirt and on your tit, making you whine softly. you grind your ass against his lap to try and hint at him that you want more, but he stops you. "sorry baby, not tonight. i'll make it up to you in the morning, doll." it satisfies you for now, cause you know he always keeps his word. so when you wake up the next morning with his thumb and index finger tugging at your nipple, hard cock pressing against your ass, you just smile and let him do all the work. "good morning sunshine, told you i'd make it up to you." you clench around nothing as he groans in your ear, his heavy breathes making it hard to think. you feel him pull your panties down, lifting your leg up slightly to slide his dick against your slit, slick coating his length almost instantly. his tip nudges against your clit, you gasp when he pushes inside you, stretching you out in the best way possible, tip kissing your cervix. he coos at you, every deep, long stroke coaxing out moans that get louder and louder. "i know, so fucking deep, huh? shhhh, just take it, honey." so you do, letting every bit of him completely take over your mind, your eyes rolling into the back of your head every time he bottoms out inside you. "there you go, atta girl." you always squeal and moan when he says that, and it only makes him more smug. "aww, does my princess like when i talk to her like that? so dirty, love it when you're like this. my sweet girl, loves every little thing i say or do." he takes your jaw in his free hand, making you look him in the eye, or try to as he starts to speed up. "isn't that right, baby? that pretty little head just thinks of me and me only?" yep, still just as smug. you have to nod and say yes just to get him to finally speed up, pounding into you with an unrelenting force. "gonna empty my balls in your pretty fuckin' pussy. c'mon baby, milk my cock, cum for me." the knot in your stomach snaps the second he commands you, body quivering with a force as your orgasm washes over you. his cock kicks inside you as he bottoms out as deep as he possibly can, his cum painting your walls white before slowly pulling out. he peppers kisses along your neck, letting you relax and fall limp in his arms as he comforts you, the both of you basking in the love you share. how sweet.

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Two four

A small note: if you would like to be added to the tagging list please ask in a reply to the post, I won't check elsewhere.

Eddie’s sitting on the couch. He’s staring into space, a couch cushion clutched tight to his chest.

Steve creeps in after Robin, hears her say, “Eddie?” softly, presumably so she doesn’t startle him.

He’s sitting in the dark, and they both just leave it that way. Probably an unspoken understanding that they don’t want to unsettle Eddie.

They sit down either side of him, Robin rubbing at his back. Steve keeps his hands to himself, not sure what will be welcome, and even less sure what the fuck he should say. Robin’s just better at this sort of stuff than Steve, maybe because she’s a girl or whatever, but she definitely has the emotional intelligence half of the brain.

Steve doesn’t know if there’s anything he even can say in a situation like this.

Eddie’s eyes are red and his face is wet, and he doesn’t move or look at either of them.

Eventually, Robin speaks gently, “Eddie, we can’t stay here.”

Steve figures whoever did live here probably cleared out when everything went to shit. He’s kind of glad; has no fucking idea how he’d explain away Eddie Munson, possible cult leader and serial killer, breaking into their house.

Steve doesn’t think Eddie’s going to say anything, but he does, after a minute, he nods, and says in a croaky voice, “I want to see Wayne.”

“Yeah, of course,” Robin agrees quickly, “we can do that, right Steve?”

“Yeah,” Steve replies, trying to sound sure and confident with that, when Eddie flinches. Visibly flinches. Turning away, shuffling closer to Robin’s end of the couch. And, okay.

Robin looks at him over Eddie’s head. Steve shrugs. Robin shrugs back. No idea.

Steve carefully, making no quick movements, moves his hand in front of his mouth, mimes using the walkie. Robin nods.

Steve jogs out to the car, walkie’s everyone real quick so they can stop looking. The others have already woken Wayne up, discovered that Eddie wasn’t there, and then gone looking for Eddie, so they’re going to head back there and wait for Steve and Robin to bring Eddie over. Explain to Wayne that Eddie’s safe so they don’t leave him worrying in the meantime.

Steve creeps back in, hoping Robs has made some progress getting Eddie moving. She hasn’t, and Steve peeks around the corner, listening. Robin is still rubbing at Eddie’s back, but he’s talking, “didn’t make any sense to come here. It’s all wrong. It all looks wrong it’s...not how we had it. Our stuffs not here,” Eddie sniffs, his voice breaking, “I thought I’d find them here.”

And then Eddie is sobbing, face buried into the cushion, sobbing so hard his whole body is hitching. He’s making noises that tear at Steve, it’s one of the worst things Steve has ever seen, such an outpouring of grief. Eddie’s so loud with it, almost wailing, barely able to breathe his chest is so wracked with it.

Steve feels absolutely useless, but Robin’s looking for him over the back of the couch, and as soon as he sees her his feet carry him over. Robin’s crying too. Steve’s pretty sure his own eyes are wet. It’s just so awful to watch. So painful, Eddie’s grief.

Steve realizes now, why Robin was so horrified. The truth of it finally sinking in now he sees the evidence of it. Eddie loved them, loved them so much that loosing them is breaking him.

Steve sits back on the couch, Eddie looking up for a second when he feels the couch dip, and suddenly he’s thrown himself at Steve, still shaking with those heaving sobs as Steve reflexively wraps his arms around him. It hurts like fuck on Steve’s broken ribs, but Steve bites it back, like fuck is reminding Eddie of that right now.

“I shouldn't have come here,” Eddie chokes out, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Eddie’s making Steve’s neck wet, and his great heaving sobs make Steve arms hitch along with them. Over the fluff of Eddie’s hair, Steve sees it as Rob starts crying fully, wiping at her nose with her sleeve, her face crumpling with it.

Steve swallows thickly, trying to hold it together but knowing he’s loosing it, and he rubs at Eddie's back, telling him, "it's okay, it'll be okay," even though Steve has no idea if it is or even if it ever will be.

It feels like a small eternity before Eddie sits up and finally moves. He doesn’t look at Steve, has his eyes squeezed shut as he scrubs at his face, and when Steve reaches for him, he flinches so hard he almost falls off the couch.

Rob is there for him then, telling him, “easy, easy,” and getting Eddie up and walking him to the car, Eddie half leaning on her.

Eddie’s opening the car door before Steve even fully stops, high tailing it away like his ass is on fire. Wayne is there in the doorway of the motel room.

Easy enough to find, it’s the only motel in Hawkins, and Jon’s car is parked outside the right room.

Wayne opens the door as Steve kills the engine, and Steve watches in the dim light as Eddie practically throws himself at Wayne. He’s sobbing again, Steve can hear it.

Steve’s only half out the car, but Nancy’s there, shaking her head, “we should leave them to it.”

They’re not going to go back to sleep, but they go through the motions anyway. Steve has a shower, really feels like he needs it. He takes a few minutes extra in there, scrubbing at his face and washing his hair, being very careful of his stitches. He gets changed into sleep pants after, and a loose tee shirt, lying in bed. Even if he just lies here, at least it’s rest of some kind. The sun will be up in an hour away, and the kids had said something about helping out at the sports hall, making sandwiches and putting together bundles of emergency supplies and stuff like that.

Steve said he’d drive them.

“Come on Dingus, I can hear you thinking about it.”

“He wouldn’t even look at me, and he flinched Rob, did you see that? And then…” it just doesn’t make any sense.

“Yeah, I did but...out of all of us, you’re the one he hurt the worst. Like, way the worst. He nearly killed you, Steve. Like, literally, if Eddie had taken another ten seconds to wake up, you would have been lights out. Maybe he remembers.”

That does make sense, Steve hums in agreement, that’s got to be hard for him, “yeah.”

“Maybe it’s hard for him to see you because...well. That’s got to be a shitty memory. Plus, trauma does funny things, what if he remembers you fighting back, you know?”

And that’s true, Steve did land one good hit on Eddie with his bat, more reflexive than anything. Before Eddie had taken the thing right out of Steve’s hands and snapped it like it was nothing, that is.

So yeah, maybe, Steve figures, “he was saying sorry.”

Robin hums again.

Steve’s ribs are healed up, his stitches long gone, all his bruises and scrapes are gone. The town is, kind of, back on it’s feet. Sure, there’s probably an abnormally high number of for sale signs in Hawkins, but everyone who was going to come back has done. Enough that Steve’s got part time shifts at the video store, at least. Mostly to keep up appearances; now that it’s all over, Owen’s got them all a pay out. Essentially for damages and trauma or whatever, but also with a very clear ‘keep your mouths shut’ attached to it.

For that first month, Eddie pretty much only speaks to Dustin. He stays with Wayne, and once every couple of days he lets Dustin know that he’s okay. The message Dustin brings back is the same every time, “he’s okay, he just needs some time.”

@autumncrocusandladybug @duckyreads @neonfruitbowl @slv-333 @starlight-archer @skys-archive @justdreamersdream @moomkin77 @prazinos @dragonmama76 @lingeringmirth @darkwitchoferie @weirdandabsurd42 @zoeweee @thennic @xiaq @tinyplanet95 @steddieyourself @chrystal-lovee @futuristicunknown86 @grtwdsmwhr @mugloversonly @wonderland-girl143-blog

[dollfacefantasy]

RIGHT OFF OUR BONES ♡

pairing: vampire!leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: one year after leon inserted himself into your life, he has a special way to celebrate your anniversary. the life-changing decision that's haunted you since that night in your room.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, public sex, blood play and drinking, knife play, religious imagery

wc: 4.8k

a/n: happy halloween!! i hope you guys like this one. technically it is a part 2 to this fic, although this can be read as a stand alone since the past events are explained in it. anyways reblogs, comments, and asks are appreciated as always <3

kinktober slot: vampire leon (he's special he gets his own day)

His lips landed on the knuckles of your middle and ring finger just as the clock on his wrist struck midnight. He wanted to be touching you as the day turned over. Minutes ago this night had been like any other, but now it was officially something special.

It was your anniversary.

Your eyes watched him. His features remained piercing even in the darkness of the club. The lights hit him just right where the two of you sat on the upper balcony. A beautiful array of reds glowed on his cheek. His nose and brow cast sharp shadows. You can't help but be entranced by the sight, and that fact only became more true when his eyes flitted up and looked at yours.

"One whole year, beloved."

Despite the blaring music, you heard him as though he whispered the words right in your ear. You nodded in return, not confident your own voice could carry over the drums in the same manner.

You watched him smirk. He knew what you were thinking. Not even metaphorically. He had the sixth sense of the mind. It only took him six months of your relationship to inform you of that.

One whole year. You could hardly believe it. These months had passed you by quicker than any other year in your past. Knowing Leon and letting him in had turned your life into a blur of bloody kisses and long nights. Days became fleeting, just intervals of time you had to endure between his visits.

The version of you who had been sleeping peacefully in her bed the night he first snuck in never would have envisioned this becoming her reality. You couldn't have imagined Leon, who'd been nothing more than a faceless form in the background to you, would sink his fangs so deep into every facet of your being.

You'd been scared of him at first, then thrilled, captivated by the danger he brought. That stayed true for a while, and it still might be true today. You love him now though, so it's harder to pinpoint. The fear has become muddled with the devotion and adoration, the worship and the reverence.

"Are you ready to see your surprise?" he asked, cutting into your thoughts.

You nodded again, fingers clasping around his icy palm as he rose to his feet. He pulled you to your own before guiding you through the gatherings of people on the way to the stairs. The song playing reverberated through the metal of the suspended walkway. The lyrics about holding you close and tearing you apart wrapped around each part of you and sunk through your skin.

Leon had been teasing you with this surprise for the past week. He wouldn't give you a clue as to what it was beyond the fact that it was for your anniversary.

He traversed the stairs in front of you. Not a hair on his head moved with the motion. It stayed slick back in place. When you reached the bottom, his grip on your hand remained just as firm. There were more people down there. More eyes catching on his presence. His alabaster skin and obsidian shirt. He didn't return any of their looks though. He walked through them as if infected with a disease, which in a sense was the case. Maybe all of these people knew that deep down but didn't have the words to articulate it.

They didn't have the knowledge that monsters were real. That life didn't have to be a straight path to death. There were ways to subvert it and prolong existence. To become an imitation of a living being. In childish terms - as your lover called it -  to become a vampire.

The two of you floated through the exit of the club and out onto the sidewalk. You could still hear the music from outside the stone walls. The song switched over into something filled with synth. The change meant nothing to you though as Leon continued tugging you in the opposite direction of his feeding ground.

Your shoulders shuddered as the cold of the night started to gloss over your bare skin. A light breeze blew over you too, swishing the crimson fabric on the skirt of your dress.

"Are you cold?" Leon asked simply.

He found your mortal needs cute. Little ways he could take care of you and show that he had your best interest in mind. Small methods of building your dependence on him.

"A little bit," you answered as he'd expected.

Nodding in acknowledgement, he released your hand and draped his arm over your shoulders instead. He pulled you close, tucking you to his side. It didn't help much in terms of physical warmth given that he didn't emit any, but the gesture unleashed a swarm of butterflies in your belly that carried the heat of affection up into your chest and shoulders.

Smile now on your face, you turned to look at him.

"So... Do I get to know where we're going?" you asked, a hint of playfulness in your tone.

He returned the gaze by looking over at you.

"Have some patience. You've been waiting an entire year for this. I think you can last a few minutes more."

His familiar smirk curled his lips into a picture of smug superiority. There was nothing Leon enjoyed more than being able to have a hold on you. To know something you didn't. It made him feel like your keeper. The one who could guide you through this world and into any others.

"Not even a hint?" you teased.

"Not one," he confirmed. Leaning in, he gave you a quick peck on the lips as a reward for your expected patience.

You only had to walk a handful more blocks before your destination came into view. The ground beneath your heels softened, transitioning from solid concrete to loose dirt. Decaying grass lined the walkway to the iron gates. Lights from the city streets faded into the distance, bringing a different kind of chill over you. The thrill of isolation surrounded you even though you were with someone else. It brought the sense that it was just you two in the world right now.

'Raccoon City Cemetery' was displayed in thin letters above the gaunt points of the fencing. The gates opened with a rusty creak and shut with the same sound.

"The cemetery?" you asked, "Is this your version of romantic?"

"You'll see. I think you'll come to see it my way soon enough. Like you always do," he replied, his voice picking up a bit of a teasing lilt.

You laughed quietly as he pulled you along the rows of headstones. "Are you calling me a pushover?"

"Never, sweetheart. Only trusting. Susceptible to my persuasion. But that's how I like you."

The pair of you continued heading deeper into the fields of remains. Flowers decorated a collection of graves while others were left desolate. He pulled you into a sharp turn around a mossy one and down a few more rows. You passed one more that was cracked before he finally stopped.

He looked at you before you could even think to ask anything. His arm fell from your shoulders, and his hand landed on your waist instead. He pulled you to stand in front of him. His other arm matched the placement of his other one, both of them snaking around you and holding you flush against his chest.

You felt his chin rest on your shoulder and his lips peck your throat a few times as your eyes trained on the stone about six feet from you. It was one of the empty ones. The rock looked fresh though, not marred or weathered like some of the others. Though not a single bouquet had been left in honor of the person who lay below.

Or who was supposed to be lying below.

Your eyes caught on the lettering engraved across the hard surface. Leon Scott Kennedy. Some details sat a few inches down. His date of birth. His date of death. An inscription that said "Lived to protect. Died doing just that. Will live on in the hearts of those he saved. Rest in Peace."

Honestly, you didn't know what to say. As much time as you'd spent with Leon over the past year, his past was still pretty foreign to you. You knew he worked a high-stress government job pertaining to bioweapons, that it was how he became what he is now, and that no part of it has carried over to his 'new life.'

Whenever you were together, he was more interested in talking about you. Your problems and your feelings. Your thoughts and experiences. He would provide insight, let you know his way of viewing the world and moving about it. But he kept discussions of his own history to a minimum, staying closed off in that regard. Though in his own way, you guess this counted as opening up.

You huffed out a breathy laugh and glanced at him. "Would you say you're resting in peace?"

"With you?" he teased, "Not one day."

Your smile persisted across your features, but your eyes returned to the headstone.

"Is it real?"

"Of course it is."

"Did you actually die?"

"I think the version of me it was made for did."

You remained silent for a few moments, for no other reason than to think over what he's telling you. One of your hands drifted to his that was splayed across your tummy. You locked your warm fingers with his cold ones.

"So everyone thinks you're dead?"

"Everyone who used to know me, yes," he answered before pausing, "I've been careful. It's a lot easier to avoid people when you only go out at night."

You nodded, but you still had more questions. "What happened to you?"

"I got sick. Before I evolved. It was really bad. The person who gave me this... whatever it is, they didn't infect me the easy way. They tried to kill me," he began to explain, "I was on an assignment in Romania, investigating a group of potential bioterrorists. They were like me. My squad killed all of them. Before the last one died though, he got me. Nearly ripped out my throat, but some of the venom got in.

"It was like living in a state of death for weeks. Felt like all the blood in my body stopped. They could barely feel my heart beat. I was pale, my eyes glossy like no one was there. Until suddenly, I came back better than before. It was like everything started flowing again, ten times stronger, stampeding through my veins."

You listened to him, each word painting an image in your mind. The other sounds in the graveyard faded to nothing. Chirps of crickets, leaves rustling in the wind, far-away calls of the city all background noise as you ingested his chilling story.

"I left a note. I guess they wanted to spare the embarrassment of a suicide, so they recorded it as if the sickness took me," he finished.

"Why are you telling me this?" you asked finally.

"Because I want you to know what you're getting into before I ask you to decide."

Your heart seizes in your chest, locking up with the implication of those words. So this was the surprise. The decision. The choice you'd asked about a year ago. The one he deemed you unfit for at the time. Internally, you wondered what changed.

"Decide if I want to be... like you?" you checked.

He nodded, his fingers stroking back and forth over the red cloth around your waist.

"I want you to think about it," he whispers, "You have to understand that if you make the change. There's no going back."

Stepping away from you, he walked around to stand in front. The moonlight shone down on his back, drowning him in shadows to your eyes. He stood above where his corpse was supposed to be lying in eternal rest.

Your heart pumped in the same steady rhythm but hard. You knew he could hear it. He reached out, grabbing one of your arms by the elbow. His fingers trailed down to your wrist.

"You'll still be mine either way, darling," he said. His striking eyes locked with yours. Even in the darkness, they stood out like prized jewels.

You still remained silent, mulling over the decision in your mind. It probably wasn't one you should make in such a short span of time given that it would change the rest of your life. On one hand, you could be like him. You could live forever. You could feed off the flesh of others, living solely during the nocturnal hours. Or you could maintain the status quo. Continue being his little mortal that he watched over and fed from on occasion.

What Leon didn't tell you was that it wasn't really a decision. At least not yours. An answer indicating you didn't want to change would suffice for now but not forever. You were his little human. His mate. He wouldn't live in a world without you. If he had to wait a while longer for you to be ready, so be it, but one day, you would be his in every sense.

Luckily for him though, you seem to already be swaying in his favor.

You stepped towards him. The soft dirt molded to the print of your shoe. "But if I change, won't things be different? Like between us?" you asked.

He couldn't help the smile that rose to his face. You always phrased things in the sweetest way. He found everything about it absolutely adorable. From your naive cadence to your shimmery doe eyes. His hand rose to cup your cheek, his thumb swiping back and forth over the soft expanse.

"Things would be different, yeah. But different doesn't mean all bad," he said.

He pulled you in closer by the back of your head. His muscular arm guided you in so your front was flush against his, those wondrous eyes gazing up at his face.

"I won't lie to you, at first things will be hard. This thing... it can feel like a curse," he murmured, "The taste of blood takes a while to get used to. The feeling of your prey going limp in your arms... it's a thrill like you can't even imagine. So horrific but satisfying."

The whispered words brought a chill over you stronger than the one inflicted by the night air. Staring into his eyes almost felt as if you were hypnotizing yourself, locking your mind into the trance of a predator you wouldn't be able to escape.

"But it can also be a gift," he continued, "You wouldn't have to worry about meaningless mortal worries. Wouldn't have to fear the idea of aging into irrelevancy."

He leans in, his lips brushing against yours. Already, you feel the urge to give in. Leon was nothing if not enticing, and the idea of being with him forever... it didn't sound so bad.

"How do you do it?" you finally asked.

His eyes gleamed with excitement at your wavering resolve. He pecked your lips, then the corner of your mouth, then your jaw. His mouth landed on your neck near your ear, just above the two faint markings that came from him sinking his fangs into you every so often.

"It'll be quick and painless, angel. Just a little bit of my blood should do it," he said.

You bit your lip at the thought. While his mouth latched onto your neck every other week, you'd never had the luxury of returning the favor. The image of it in your mind was sickening but exhilarating at the same time.

"If I change... will you still wanna drink from me? Will you still need me?" you wondered aloud.

"Of course, I'll need you. I'll always need you. Just not in that way after you evolve," he said and brought his face to be level with yours again, "Once you're like me, your blood will be too divine to be used only in that way. That's not to say I won't drink from you though."

Your eyes studied his face, trying to discern his meaning. He moved his mouth in and nipped at your lips.

"When you're like me, I'll drink from you for fun. Pure pleasure. Not because I need it to survive, but because I rather wouldn't without the taste of you," he said.

Blood rushed throughout your body as your heart pounded faster for him. You couldn't think of any reason to say no at this point. There didn't seem to be anything in your human life that would tether you to the only world you'd known. Instead, you wanted to bind yourself to the man in front of you. Your mate.

After only a few more seconds of thought, you whispered, "I'll do it."

His lips split into a wild grin. "That's my girl. My sweet little doll."

His arms looped around your figure and kept you right up against him. He kissed you without reserve now. The spoils of your decision were yours now. There was no reason to tease, no more reason to hint at things.

A delicate moan escaped your lips. You melted into the affection, resting your arms on his shoulders and shutting your eyes. The only two people in the world right now were you and him.

His hands rubbed up and down your back. They slid over your curves and massaged the tender flesh through your dress. His fingers fell to your ass, kneading the plush softness there. Following in the same direction, his lips drifted down your throat. They coasted over the pulsing of your carotid artery and onto the center where your vocal chords thrummed.

He kissed over your collar bone and the top of your chest left exposed by your dress. Your head fell back between your shoulders. The pleasure reverberating through you evaporated your thoughts into hot air between your ears. Your fingers threaded into his soft, ashy locks.

"Leon," you breathed. The word spilled from your lips like a prayer.

Straightening out, he stood up. "Be patient, baby. You should cherish these last moments you'll have, living the life you've always known."

His fingers began undoing the buttons of his dress shirt. The stiff fabric parted, revealing his alabaster chest and the chiseled definition of his abdomen. Both sides fell away. He left the garment hanging over his shoulders. He didn't bother discarding it entirely.

Next, from his pocket came what looked like a crucifix. You watched him bring the small item into view with curiosity. You tried to piece together its purpose or significance in this moment, unable to find one until his thumb pressed on a raised charm in the center and slid it downward.

A shining silver blade poked from the bottom. The point of it was sharper than any knife you'd ever seen. Each edge of the metal shimmered with the propensity to wound.

He could feel the way your eyes magnetized to the sleek surface. His cock kicked in his trousers from how entranced you appeared. Lowering to his knees, he rested a hand upon your shoulder and guided you down with him. 

He didn't go for the transformation right away. His lips found yours again, engaging you in another passionate exchange. Your breaths puffed against his face. The hot air fanned across his skin. A small reminder of the heat he'd be harnessing forever.

His hands roamed your body. They pulled up the flowy bottom of your dress, bringing it above your hips. Your skin pebbled with the new coolness.

"Leon..." you whimpered. It was different from your last calling of his name. This one held some anxiety and trepidation. Both emotions you would be mostly freed from in a matter of minutes.

"What is it, sweetheart?" he muttered.

"Just... someone could see," you said, "Shouldn't we be quick?"

He chuckled and just shook his head, not stopping lavishing you with affection. "No one is here besides us. And even if there were, you know I would hear them coming," he teased, "They wouldn't be able to stop us anyway. No one is getting between you and I right now."

You keened under his touch. It was the truth. Anyone who tried to interrupt would be quickly silenced by your lover. Without the need for worry, you let out a sigh and relaxed. You could let yourself enjoy this.

The two of you made out for a while longer, the exact amount of time lost in the flurry of touches. When your eyes felt droopy and your lips swollen and wet, he finally pulled away. You blinked at him, and he dragged his fingers down your jaw.

"You're ready. This will be nice and easy. You just do as I say," he whispered.

He leaned back onto his knees. His skin glowed under the pale moonlight. The crucifix shined brighter as he raised it. You watched in silent awe, barely able to understand the scene playing out before you.

His hand brought it to the muscle resting right above his heart. He held it there for a second before pressing it to his own skin. Your eyes were unable to pull away as the blade dug into the flesh, drawing a scarlet line over the unmarred surface. Deep red trickled from the wound.

Lifting his eyes back to you, he examined your reaction. He didn't sense much activity going on in your head, and the look on your face told him he had you hooked.

"Come here, baby," he whispered, cupping the back of your head, "Take a drink. As much as you can."

Slowly, he pulled you in. He directed you to his chest and positioned your head right where the cut bled. Without question, your lips parted. You were unsure of how to connect with his skin at first. But once that cool, sticky liquid hit your mouth, it came like the most natural thing in the world.

They engulfed the crimson scrape. Your tongue laved at it for more. Now it was his turn to groan. His head fell back, and his cock filled out below.

"That's it," he rasped, "Nice and steady."

You suckled some more, your efforts rewarded with a thick stream flowing into your mouth. It was divine. Like a waterfall straight from heaven. You whined at the taste and pressed your hips right against his thigh.

He had told you a year ago that yours was the sweetest blood he'd ever come across, but that was clearly only because he'd never tasted his own. All you could think while it oozed down your throat was that you wanted, no needed, more.

Your heart hammered so loud in your ears, you would've thought you were close to cardiac arrest. But it kept going and going until it evened out. It felt as though your body had ascended. Everything felt so intense now. The only thing that kept you grounded was nursing the blood from Leon's cut.

Eventually, he pulled on your neck. You needed a break even if you didn't understand that. His fingers curled around your throat and gently eased you off. You didn't want to, that was evident by the way you grabbed at him and resisted his hand.

"Shh, shh, shh," he cooed while lowering you back against the dirt of his grave, "You're alright. You can have some more in a little while. Just let your body adjust."

Your eyes closed again. It felt like your head was spinning. He stroked your cheek and down your neck while getting on top of you. Dropping the crucifix beside you, he parted your thighs. Every nerve ending on your body was firing away right now. He knew you'd be dripping for him.

His fingers coasted up and down the smooth flesh of your legs. He could sense the change in you already. Your scent was morphing. It would only be a matter of time until your eyes brightened and your fangs came in.

Pushing his hips forward, he ground his bulge against your core. You mewled in response. The simple touch was enough to spark a rampage of bliss within you.

"Good girl," he praised, "Such a good girl. I told you this is what you were meant for."

You nodded hazily. He knew you were registering the words, but it looked more like you were living in a dream right now rather than lucid life.

He'd seen enough to know there was nothing left to wait for. He reached down and unbuttoned his pants. Next went the zipper, and then he pulled his cock out. He tugged on his shaft, ensuring it was ready for you.

You were too caught up in the novel feelings flooding your senses to care about doing your part of the undressing, so he stepped in. His fingers hooked around the thin lace of your panties and yanked them down. They rolled in on themselves and dimpled the soft muscles of your thighs.

When your cunt was exposed to him, he saw his predictions had been true. Your folds glistened for him. The wetness sparkles under the silver light emanating from the sky.

"Pretty baby," he whispered while guiding his tip towards your entrance. 

He lined it up with your hole before nudging it in. You sucked in a gasp, trembling at the intrusion. The connection felt all-consuming. The bond between you and Leon was above you now, out of your control. You couldn't break it if you wanted to. It was eternal.

His hands grabbed your hips, giving him leverage to thrust in and out of you. Skin clapped against skin while both of you moaned in ecstasy. The otherwise quiet cemetery filled with the sounds of your passion.

He rolled himself into you, sheathing his length in the tight embrace of your walls. You clamped around him. Every rock of his pelvis got you to squeeze on him. He panted with the restraint it took not to just pound you into the ground.

Your arms reached up, and your hands grabbed for him. Your fingers flexed as you tried to get him closer. He lowered himself, allowing you to drag him the rest of the way. Your scarlet-stained mouth kissed his lips with the same dedication you'd had for drinking his blood.

He groaned and returned the kisses. Saliva smeared over his chin. Your efforts were a bit cloudy from the lusty fog in your head. His name leaked from your mouth again. And again. And then again. As if it was the only word you knew. The only word you found worth knowing.

"Mhm. I'm right here, beloved. I'm here with you," he breathed.

"Forever," you whimpered.

Your forearm rested over the back of his neck, bobbling around with each jolt of his body. Your fingers lazily toyed with the ends of his hair. The strands felt like silk between your digits. He gazed into your eyes. Already, he could see your irises shifting to a stronger color.

"My beautiful little love. There's nothing more I could want. Just you with me till the rest of the world is dead and gone," he whispered.

You moaned in response. Your head nodded frantically. You couldn't be more eager to express your agreement.

He grinned and kissed your throat more. You could feel the points of his fangs scraping over the tender area. He didn't puncture like so many times before, he merely reminded you of the idea. Because of that, you knew he was close. He always wanted to bite right around the time the coils in his stomach started to tighten and his balls started to draw up.

Grunting against your neck, he kept his hold secure on you. His abs twitched while his breaths became labored. He pumped into your pussy a few more times before a breathy moan burst from him.

"Fuck..." he sighed.

He slammed into you for a final time, draining himself into your heat. You trembled a final few humanly shudders before deflating against the ground below you. Your head tilted back, and the headstone behind came into view again. You wondered if you'd get a similar one for yourself now or if you could just disappear into the night unnoticed.

He came down from his high with his face buried in the crook of your neck, but once his breathing had evened out, he pulled back to look down at you. He brushed his thumb over your cheek once more, cherishing the sight of your tinted lips and glassy eyes.

"This is only the beginning, beloved," he whispered, "This is the dawn of the rest of your days."

He connected you in one more kiss. One last gesture of his undying affection before he would help you put yourself back together again. He could already feel your skin beginning to cool.

[miss-musings]

"I Say We Take Her With Us": How TCW's Waxer & Boil Prefigure Hunter & Crosshair in "The Bad Batch" Series

A running joke in the TCW/TBB fandom is that all the clones have Dad Genes™️. Outside of Jango Fett himself, the first indication we have is Waxer and Boil's dynamic with Numa in "The Clone Wars" Episode 1.20 "Innocents of Ryloth."

In revisiting the episode recently, it struck me how much Waxer and Boil's initial reactions to Numa and their eventual bond with her feels like a template for Hunter and Crosshair's dynamic with Omega in "The Bad Batch" series.

Like Hunter, Waxer bonds with Numa very quickly and takes more initiative when it comes to her safety. He's also more comfortable with physical affection -- patting her head, booping her nose, putting a hand on her shoulder, etc.

Like Crosshair, Boil argues to leave Numa behind when they first encounter her and isn't as concerned about her well-being. He does eventually take a liking to her, promising to keep her safe. Unlike Waxer, Boil isn't physically affectionate. He doesn't initiate any shoulder touches, etc., and he seems caught off-guard when Numa does.

In the end, both clones form a deep bond with their "little sister," even if their dynamics with Numa play out differently. Just so, Hunter and Crosshair both form a deep bond with Omega, although their dynamics with her play out very differently thanks to a variety of factors.

While this is the gist of it, let's take a look at Waxer and Boil as characters, including their interactions with Numa in TCW 1.20 "Innocents of Ryloth".

(NOTE: If you've already seen the episode and have a good understanding of the plot and characters, I recommend you jump down the "Prefiguring Hunter & Crosshair" section.)

Waxer & Boil in "Innocents of Ryloth"

Character Introductions

Even before they meet Numa, we get a pretty good idea of who Waxer and Boil are as individuals.

As their gunship flies toward Ryloth's surface, Obi-Wan and Cody tell the clone troopers to keep an eye out for the locals and avoid damaging their settlements.

Boil, who was carrying heavy artillery, puts it down after Cody tells them they can't use it. He then remarks to Waxer:

Boil: If we're here to free the tail-heads, the least they could do is get out of our way.

Already, we see that Boil has a shoot-em-up kind of attitude. He wants to go in guns blazin' and get the job done, and he doesn't like that consideration for the locals is putting a damper on his fun.

He's also maybe a bit racist??? (Tail-heads sounds like a racial slur to me, and I've seen other comments agreeing with that assessment.)

Waxer seems to take this in stride and later, when Obi-Wan says their squad needs to disable the enemies' guns, Waxer says:

Waxer: Here we go again.

I know it's an iconic "Star Wars" line, akin to "I've got a bad feeling about this," but it's still worth noting.

The two go with Obi-Wan and their brothers to take down the guns, with Obi-Wan commenting how Waxer and Boil "wanted action," implying he overheard their earlier comments on the gunship.

The two help Obi-Wan take out gun towers and then infiltrate the village, which is deserted. They're then ordered to help scout the village.

Obi-Wan, to Cody: Send your best men to scout ahead. Cody: Will do, sir. Boil, Waxer, come with me. Boil: I guess we're the best.

The way Boil delivers this line, it sounds like he's halfway between proud and uncertain. He probably appreciates Cody's vote of confidence in them, but is also wondering if it's because they happened to be nearby because Cody didn't explicitly call them "the best."

As the two are scouting -- both before and after they leave Cody -- Boil has his gun raised. He's ready to aim and fire at a second's notice. Meanwhile, Waxer has his blaster lowered to his torso. He's not as tightly wound up as Boil is.

As the two walk through the village by themselves, Waxer starts asking Boil questions about what might've happened to the residents, whether they were killed, etc.

Boil notes that there are no bodies, so they were likely driven from their homes.

So, even before meeting Numa, we've got a decent idea of who these two soldiers are.

Waxer is more caring and compassionate. He's definitely not as trigger-happy or aggressive as Boil, but he still does his job well.

Boil is more practical and by-the-book. He's ready to spring into action, and takes his job as a soldier seriously. He also might be older/higher-ranking than Waxer, as Waxer seems to defer to him in some cases, and Cody calls to him first.

Meeting Numa

While scouting, the two hear a sound and investigate it. They find a little Twi'lek girl, whom we later learn is named Numa.

Boil, as he sees Numa: Ah, it's just a little girl. Waxer: Well, what are we going to do with her? Boil: Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Why do we have to do anything? We've got a mission to finish.

Looking closely, Boil actually lowers his blaster first, realizing who/what Numa is. But, he also sounds a bit disappointed that he doesn't get to shoot something.

Waxer immediately starts worrying about her well-being and what their duty of care is in this situation. However, Boil believes their responsibility is to complete the mission, starving kids be damned.

Waxer doesn't back down, though:

Waxer: We should do something. I say we take her with us. Boil: You can't be serious. She'll only slow us down.

Again, Boil is focused on completing the mission, while Waxer is concerned about Numa's safety.

A probe droid comes into the vicinity, and Numa cowers. Boil thinks it's because she's afraid of them, but Waxer notices the droid and realizes the truth. The three then hide, and the droid leaves.

The droid worries Boil, who says they need to keep moving. However, Waxer presses him for a third time that they need to do something about Numa. Boil reluctantly agrees to Waxer's plan to take her with them, and bends down to grab Numa. She bites him, and he calls her a "tail-head."

Waxer correctly deduces that Numa is afraid of them, as she probably assumes they're droids. He takes off his helmet, showing her he's human:

Waxer: It's alright. See? I'm flesh and blood, just like you.

The two then notice that Numa looks hungry. (The captions say Boil takes note of this, but based on the audio, I think it's actually Waxer. Waxer doesn't have his helmet on, but Boil does, and the line is delivered by someone who isn't wearing a helmet.)

Anyway, Boil takes out a ration and hands it to Waxer, who hands it to Numa. While Boil might be older/outrank Waxer, he's apparently letting Waxer take the lead in this particular situation after Numa initially bit him.

As Boil also removes his helmet, Numa calls them "nerra," which we later find out means "brother." While they're unaware, it's an indication that Numa already trusts and respects them.

Waxer tells Numa their names, but Numa continues to call them "nerra."

Boil, as he puts his helmet back on: Oh, you made a friend. Mission accomplished. [sighs] Can we go now?

I find it interesting that Boil says Waxer made a friend, when Numa was calling both of them "nerra." So, while he didn't know what "nerra" meant, he only acknowledges her bond with Waxer and not himself. Once again, he's only focused on completing the mission. He doesn't give a crap about this kid beyond answering Waxer's complaints that they need to do something with her.

Waxer stands and puts his helmet back on, as he prepares to follow Boil. He calls to Numa, who seems reluctant to leave.

Boil: Look, she doesn't even want to go. Little monster was fine before we came along, so let's MOVE.

Boil has finally convinced Waxer that they don't have any more responsibility toward Numa. She'll be fine as-is. Waxer takes one last look at Numa before following Boil out into the street.

Following Numa

Later, Numa follows the two through the streets of the deserted village. Waxer immediately notices, looking back at her, but keeps walking.

Waxer: I wonder what happened to her family. Boil: They're probably dead. Hopefully, she'll survive this mess.

Again, we see that Waxer is concerned while Boil is practical to the point of being cavalier. However, that last line makes me think Boil is starting to ... warm up ... to Numa. (Sorry, I had to.) He's definitely not on the same level as Waxer is... yet.

Waxer continues to focus on her well-being, especially with the context that she's likely an orphan. (We find out later that she's not, but they don't know that yet.)

Waxer: So, what happens to her? I mean, after we leave. Boil: I don't know. Ah, don't get any ideas. We're not taking her with us.

I do wonder who the "we" is that Waxer mentions. Does he mean his company specifically, or the clone army in general? I imagine, from context, it's the former.

I also find it funny that Boil preemptively shuts down Waxer's idea of taking her with them. He must recognize that Waxer's Dad Instincts™️ have kicked in -- probably because his have too but he's fighting them, unlike Waxer.

The two realize that Numa is no longer following them, and Waxer says in a very disappointed tone:

Waxer: She's gone. Boil: I'm sure the little biter will turn up.

Out-of-context, "little biter" sounds like it could be a term of endearment. I wonder if Boil meant it that way, but knowing his personality, he probably meant it more literally.

The two then turn around and see that Numa snuck in front of them, as she stands directly in front of Waxer. He kneels down and affectionately boops her on the nose, which makes her giggle.

Boil's a bit thrown off by the fact that she was able to sneak up on them, considering they're trained soldiers.

Numa then starts pulling Waxer, calling him "nerra" again, and pointing down the street. She runs off, clearly wanting them to follow her.

Waxer calls after her, telling her not to go that way because "that's where the recon droid went."

Boil: Waxer, let her go. Waxer, running after Numa: I'm not just gonna let the droids get her. Boil, running after both of them: I'm just trying to keep you alive! I'll be darned if I know why.

Once again, we see that Waxer's priority is Numa's safety, as he runs after her without hesitation.

Boil, like before, is focused on a combination of following orders, completing the mission, and keeping his brother safe. So, he runs after both of them.

As Waxer catches up to her, he pats her on the head affectionately.

Boil, catching up to them: Good, you caught her. You know, I have binders if we need them. [defensively] What? ... What are we doing here anyway?

Boil almost talks about Numa like she's a prisoner in their custody -- how Waxer "caught" her and how they should put binders on her. Yikes!

He's clearly getting tired of dealing with Numa, partly because she's a child and partly because they can't communicate with her. He's also getting tired of Waxer throwing himself after Numa, when they still have a mission to complete.

Comforting Numa

Numa leads them inside a destroyed house, which Waxer assumes is her home. He's sympathetic to her plight, calling her a "poor little thing" who "lost it all."

He spots a small tooka doll on the ground and gives it to her. Numa starts crying, and he comforts and reassures her by putting his hand on her shoulder.

Waxer: It's OK now. We're here to help.

Numa embraces him and continues crying. He doesn't really know how to react, but ends up reciprocating the embrace by putting a hand on her head.

Finally, Boil approaches them and kneels down too.

Boil: Don't cry kid. We'll keep you safe. I ... I promise.

Numa then embraces him and seems to stop crying. Like Waxer, Boil doesn’t know how to react to being hugged, but pats her on the back.

For Boil, this is clearly a turning point in how he handles Numa. We see later that he's still not happy about having to take care of her, but he has definitely softened toward her, after seeing what she's gone through.

He took the initiative to comfort her. He didn't need to. Waxer seemed to be handling the situation well enough. But, Boil apparently felt compelled to act too.

I imagine that, for a soldier like Boil, making a promise is no easy thing. He wouldn't have told her that if he didn't mean it, so I think -- like Waxer -- he finally let his Dad Instincts™️ kick in. He's not fighting them anymore.

And what's more is he actually one-ups Waxer in a sense. He makes a promise to take care of Numa, which Waxer never did. Waxer just said they were there to help. The wording was more general. But, Boil promises to keep her safe. It's more specific, and could be seen as more comforting: "We're here to help" vs. "We're going to keep you safe."

Side note: I do wonder if Numa is able to understand some Basic, because she gives Boil a meaningful look when he makes that promise AND she stops crying as he directed.

Protecting Numa

While they're still in Numa's destroyed home, the clones' communicators start flashing. Boil is upset, saying they'll be punished for failing to complete the mission and/or report back on time.

Waxer wonders how they're going to explain Numa to their company. He starts coming up with white lies they can tell to avoid getting into trouble.

Boil: We can try. But, mark my words: this will end badly.

Both Waxer and Boil, but more so Boil, are concerned with possible demotion/punishment.

However, they at least don't seem to be arguing about what to do about Numa anymore. They both just start leaving the home and apparently assume Numa will follow them, because they don't physically or verbally have her come along.

When they get outside, both clones take a defensive stance when they realize something's coming. Numa hides behind Waxer, telling him of the danger, before running back into the house.

The two start fighting the creatures attacking them.

Boil: You see what happens when we don't follow orders? [grunts] Waxer: Let's get out of here.

Despite having some change of heart, Boil is still preoccupied with following orders and completing the mission. He is still very much a soldier, even if his Dad Instincts™️ have kicked in.

They barricade themselves inside the home, with Waxer holding the door while Boil shoots at the creatures. Numa opens a tunnel in the floor. Waxer helps her with the heavy stone while Boil puts down cover-fire, until all three escape safely.

When they come out of the tunnels and rejoin their company, they tell Cody they "got sidetracked." Numa, who's holding onto Boil's hand, then peers out from behind him at Obi-Wan and the others.

When Obi-Wan approaches her, she continues to hide behind Boil. Meanwhile, Waxer explains that Numa knows her way around the tunnels.

When Obi-Wan asks in her language, she says she can lead them through the tunnels and even pulls on Boil's hand to come with her.

Numa then leads Obi-Wan, Waxer and Boil through the tunnels to where the other villagers are being held prisoner.

Obi-Wan hands Numa off to Waxer. When he later indicates for the two clones to follow him, Waxer puts Numa down and Boil gestures for her to stay quiet. Numa even mimics his hand gesture as she watches the two clones follow Obi-Wan.

After Obi-Wan frees the villagers, Numa reunites with her parent, and Waxer and Boil help Obi-Wan take out the enemies' main guns.

When the two clones get injured, Numa runs to them. This causes the other villagers to come out and join the fight against the droids.

Just as the tactical droid is about to fire on Obi-Wan and Numa, the villagers swoop in and save the day.

Leaving Numa

As Obi-Wan's company prepares to leave, Waxer bids Numa farewell first. He kneels down, puts a hand on her shoulder and then pats her head.

Waxer: See you later, little one.

Again, Waxer is more comfortable initiating physical affection than Boil is. He's also intentional about getting down on her level to say goodbye.

As Waxer walks off, Boil calls to her:

Boil: Hey, Numa. Stay out of trouble.

At some point off-screen, the clones found out Numa's name. I'm assuming Obi-Wan translated for them. So, it's significant that Boil calls her by name, now that they know what it is.

Boil also recognizes Numa has a penchant for getting into trouble, and tries to warn her against it.

Numa then runs to Boil, who's standing, and hugs his leg. Boil reaches down and puts a hand on her shoulder/back.

Like before, he's not as comfortable as Waxer with initiating physical affection, and he's still not very good about receiving it either. But, he's adjusted well enough.

Boil: Don't be afraid. We'll be back.

Both Waxer and Boil tell Numa this isn't the last time they'll meet. They really did form a strong bond with her, and while it's not clear when they would have a chance, they plan to return and see her again.

As Boil walks away too, Numa looks sad to see the clones go. Her parent comforts her. She calls out "nerra" to the clones several times as she waves goodbye.

Waxer, to Obi-Wan: Sir, what is that she keeps calling us? Obi-Wan: "Nerra." It means "brother."

The two clones then exchange a brief look with each other before turning back to Numa. Waxer waves goodbye, and the two clones walk off into the proverbial sunset with the rest of their company.

I think, in that moment, they were really struck by how Numa viewed them. They probably assumed "nerra" meant "friend" or something similar. They probably had no idea it meant something as powerful as "brother."

Clearly, Numa bonded with them so intensely and trusted them so much, she viewed them as family -- even as far back as their first conversation, when they took their helmets off and gave her food.

Remembering Numa

While we don't get many more appearances of Waxer or Boil, we do see them again in Seasons 2 and 4.

In Season 2, Boil has a picture of Numa on his helmet; and Waxer also has one on his helmet when he dies in Season 4.

It just goes to show how fondly they both remembered her. They literally painted her on their helmets, as if to say, "Heck yeah, we're Numa's brothers!" I can imagine them proudly talking about their “little sister” anytime someone asked about the design.

It's also implied that, at some point during or after the war, one or both clones returned to Ryloth to visit her.

When we see Numa in "Rebels," she's wearing 212th armor and even has Boil's name in Aurebesh on it. I know it's probably more of an Easter egg/headcanon, but I like to think Boil survived the war and returned to Ryloth to see her. It would explain how she got the armor and why his name is on it.

Plus, as I said, Boil is a soldier. He's not going to make promises flippantly. If he said "We'll be back," then I believe he’d follow through if/when he had the chance. I'm sure Waxer would've too, if he hadn't died on Umbara.

The three of them really had a special connection that lasted the rest of their lives.

Prefiguring Hunter & Crosshair

If it wasn't clear already, Waxer and Boil's dynamics with Numa -- both as a group and as individuals -- are very similar to Hunter and Crosshair's dynamics with Omega later in "The Bad Batch" series.

In both cases, two clone brothers are presented with a relatively helpless girl. One insists they have to help her, while the other is against it, believing their priority is their job as soldiers.

Even some of the dialogue is similar, with Crosshair and Boil both continually emphasizing how they need to "follow orders" and "complete the mission." Even Boil's "let her go" is similar to Crosshair telling Hunter:

Crosshair in 1.15: You want to protect the kid? Then let her go.

Ultimately, both sets of brothers decide their responsibility to their "little sister" is important, without forgetting their duty to each other, their other brothers and everyone else who's counting on them.

Similarities Between Boil & Crosshair

These two are definitely the more aggressive brothers in their respective duos. They both seem to have an affinity for heavy weaponry, and are always looking for an excuse to shoot something. Trigger-happy, in a word.

They're both also very practical and mission-driven. They're completely focused on their duty as soldiers. They're constantly bringing up their need to “complete the mission” and “follow orders,” even if it means leaving a girl to fend for herself. They also mention, at least once, their duty to keep their brothers safe as well.

Also, Boil and Crosshair criticize their brothers' paternal instincts when they initially meet their respective "little sisters". They protest taking her with them and/or bothering with her at all.

Later on, both Boil and Crosshair seem to generally care about their sisters' well-being, but not to the same degree as their brothers. They don't want to see her get hurt, but they also don't want to be around her either.

However, perhaps despite their best efforts, they ultimately give into their Dad Instincts™️. For both Boil and Crosshair, this seems to be when their respective "little sisters" are in great distress and/or danger.

For Boil, it's when he sees Numa crying in her ruined home, realizing just how much she's lost and how desperately she needs comfort and protection. For Crosshair, it's when he and Omega are imprisoned on Tantiss, when she has no other physical or emotional support system.

After their respective turning points, Boil and Crosshair seem to be more open to and comfortable around their "little sisters." They don't mind her displays of physical affection (holding hands, hugging, etc.), and do whatever they can to help and protect her.

Ultimately, both Boil and Crosshair have flavors of the "grumpy man who's actually a giant softie" trope, which is why the scenes of Numa hugging Boil and Omega hugging Crosshair hit similarly (at least they do for me).

There's one more specific thing I find interesting with these four characters: Boil and Crosshair calling their "little sisters" by name.

While Waxer was arguably closer to Numa, we never see him call her by name. He just calls her "little one," even after (apparently) finding out her name off-screen. But, Boil specifically calls her "Numa" in their final scene together.

Throughout TCW 1.20, Boil calls Numa "tail-head" and "monster" and "little biter." While I wonder if the latter was meant with some affection, the former two are definitely mean-spirited.

In the same way, throughout TBB Season 1 and 2, Crosshair calls Omega "a child" or "the kid" or his brothers' "little sidekick" in a demeaning way.

But, in Season 3, Crosshair only calls Omega by name. While his brothers and other characters often refer to Omega as "kid" or "the kid," Crosshair never does after Season 2. She is "Omega" from thereon.

Waxer and Hunter (and the others in CF99) can call Numa and Omega "little one" or "kid," because we know they mean it in an affectionate way.

But, Boil and Crosshair don't have that luxury, because they've only employed nicknames disrespectfully.

It also shows just how much both characters' attitudes have changed when they call their "little sisters" by name.

Finally, it's worth noting that while Boil and Crosshair were initially "against" Numa and Omega, respectively, their "little sisters" don't hold grudges.

In fact, even though they bonded with Waxer and Hunter more quickly and (arguably) more closely, the girls still consider Boil and Crosshair their "brothers" all the same. The girls hold them in an equal (or near equal) degree as they do Waxer and Hunter, despite Boil and Crosshair initially rejecting them.

Similarities Between Waxer & Hunter

Unlike their brothers, Waxer and Hunter are characterized as being more compassionate and caring from the get-go, even before meeting their "little sisters."

When he sees the devastation on Ryloth, Waxer wonders about the residents, whether they were killed, etc.

Meanwhile, throughout TBB 1.01 "Aftermath," Hunter lets Caleb Dume escape Order 66 and then lies to protect him. He also refuses to kill the civilians on Onderon, and starts to see the Empire for what it really is.

This is also a small thing, but we get parallel scenes of Waxer and Hunter noticing a probe droid that their brothers didn't.

In general, both Waxer and Hunter push back on their brothers' more cavalier attitudes toward people in danger/need.

Waxer repeatedly tells Boil they should do something about Numa, and then continues to worry about her well-being while she's following them.

In "Aftermath," when Hunter sees Crosshair trying to kill Caleb and then complaining they didn't kill civilians, he calls him out on it. He also generally confronts Crosshair about his obsession with "following orders," when that was something CF99 never worried about in the past.

Then, after they find out Omega is a fellow clone, Hunter insists they need to return to Kamino for Omega despite the dangers.

When meeting their "little sisters," Waxer and Hunter seem to be naturals with kids -- at least compared to their brothers.

They intentionally get down on their knees and talk to them at eye-level. They address them calmly and respectfully. Waxer takes off his helmet to show Numa he's not a droid. They try to make their "little sisters" feel safe and comfortable, despite the stressful situation.

Once their "little sisters" are with them, Waxer and Hunter very naturally switch into Dad Mode™️. They look out for them, protect them, give them reassuring head-pats, shoulder-touches, and so on. Weirdly, though, neither are very good with hugs initially, but they get there eventually.

On top of being more immediate, Waxer and Hunter's bonds with their "little sisters" are arguably much stronger than their brothers'.

Numa seems to be more comfortable around Waxer, especially initially, despite calling both clones "nerra" after they took off their helmets. Again, it's possible that she understood some of what they were saying, and realized Waxer was trying to help her while Boil really wasn't.

For Omega, she spends more time with Hunter early on, as Crosshair was separated from his family due to the Empire enhancing his inhibitor chip. Thus, she develops a very strong bond with Hunter very quickly. Even with Tech, Wrecker and Echo around as well, Omega and Hunter's bond is special.

Overall, Waxer and Hunter seem to be the "default" or "go-to" brother when Numa and Omega are in trouble.

Finally, I also find it interesting that the last gesture of farewell is Waxer and Hunter's.

Even though both Waxer and Boil turn back to look at Numa after finding out what "nerra" means, only Waxer decides to wave back at her.

Similarly, in the TBB series finale, the epilogue shows only Hunter saying goodbye to Omega. Even though both Omega and Hunter acknowledge the other brothers' role in her life, that final moment is theirs.

Just like Numa with Waxer, Omega bonded with Hunter first. So, it feels fitting that her final scene should be with him.

Final Thoughts

It's been fun rewatching "Innocents of Ryloth" and seeing these proto-versions of Hunter and Crosshair. I have no idea whether the TCW/TBB writers did that on purpose, but even if not, it makes for an powerful parallel.

Obviously, there are some major differences. Numa's parent was still alive, while Omega never had a proper parent to begin with. So, Hunter and his brothers arguably had an even greater responsibility to Omega than Waxer and Boil did to Numa.

Also, while Waxer and Boil definitely stayed in the "brother" category, as Numa's parent was still alive, Hunter (and his brothers) crossed over into the "dad" category in Omega's life.

Unlike Waxer and Boil, Hunter & co. took care Omega for years rather than a day or two. They provided for her; they taught her; and they cared for her physically and emotionally from the TBB series premiere to the epilogue.

If given the opportunity, I'm sure Waxer and Boil would've gone back to Ryloth and checked on Numa. Maybe, after the war, they would've even stayed long-term and kept an eye on her like a big brother or uncle might. Again, they bonded with her so strongly that they drew pictures of her on their helmets. They really thought of themselves as her brothers, and ran around battlefields representing her even months after meeting her.

As fans have joked about: put a Jango Fett clone in the immediate vicinity of a kid for a decent amount of time and they will turn into a Dad™️.

Doesn't matter if they're being mind-controlled. Doesn't matter if their priority is to follow orders. Doesn't matter if they're set to be shipped to another world once this mission's done. Doesn't matter if this is literally the first kid they've ever seen in their lives (except fellow clones).

And, even if they don't get enough "incubation time" around the kid to turn into a dad, they will -- at minimum -- turn into a Nerra™️.

[phntmeii]

Random things I think OPLA Characters would Do ♡

(Points involving y/n can be read as Platonic or Romantic !!)

> Luffy kneads your stomach like a cat would. No explanation for it, just does it while he talks.

> Zoro sees you going in the wrong direction, palming your head and forcibly turning you in another wrong direction confidently.

> Mihawk hates being sick since one time he sneezed like a dad in the middle of him lecturing you and you made fun of him for it.

> Usopp fell off of a barrel while dramatically retelling an adventure he totally went on only to stand up on the barrel again to continue and he ended up falling again.

> Luffy extends his arm from the other side of the ship just to annoy you by trying to stick his finger in your nose.

> Nami definitely has smacked her map against everyone’s head one by one after interrupting her again.

> After getting annoyed at Sanji, he bounces his eyebrow and makes a kiss sound as you leave.

> Shanks definitely goes dad mode, crouches down, hands on his knees if you’re shorter than him.

> If you take away Buggy’s head so he can’t reattach himself, he definitely talks for as long as possible about nothing until you’re annoyed enough to put his head back.

> You and Usopp made eye contact as he once tried to help Sanji’s dish and accidentally dropped the whole seasoning bottle in. He slinked away, keeping eye contact like a secret promise not to say a word.

> Luffy insists on braiding your hair just for it to become somehow knotty and matted within ten minutes.

> Zoro watched you fall on your ass in combat, laughing, then getting accidentally smacked by Luffy’s extended arm and getting swung forward twenty feet.

> Sanji has never denied carrying you bridal style and has even done so while in the middle of combat.

> Nami gives a side eye to you as indication of something incredibly stupid is about to happen at the hands of one of the others.

> Luffy extends his arm and smacks the top part of a door as he enters, trying to prove to you how tall he is.

> Buggy sleepwalks and occasionally detaches in his sleep and you’ll be jumpscared by a random chopped off arm at your bedside.

> Mihawk started by just purposely bumping into you while he walks when you first met but now puts his hands on your arms and guides you aside.

> Usopp likes to take your hand and trace letters on your palm and have you guess what he said.

> Sanji has bought the same color outfit that you did so you two can match. He wants to be someone’s arm candy/accessory to an event.

> Zoro gets seasick and blames it on Sanji and his cooking just to have something to complain about Sanji for.

[gudfornuthin]

Hiii❤️, are you taking requests for Bernard rn? And if so can you write a Bernard x reader (she/her) where she has a very flirtatious personality and he has a huge crush on her and he lovesss when she’s being that way towards him but when he sees her talk to other people like that he’s kinda jealous and maybe end in some smut ( ofc only if you’re comfortable writing that!<3)

Jealousy looks good on you

Bernard the elf x reader

A/N: ‘tis the season and the Bernard girlies have awakened. I’m shocked at all the support I’ve received from these one shots and I’m so glad to be writing more. This isn’t my best imo, I don’t know where I was going with it so I kinda got carried away, but oh well lol. I have another Bernard request after this one and then I’ll be back to my Beauty and the Beast rewrite. Hope you all enjoy :))

“She’s doing it again.”

“Who?”

“Y/N. She’s flirting with him again.”

“Your obsession with Y/N is becoming a problem.”

This wasn’t the first conversation Curtis and Bernard had had with each other about Y/N. This topic specifically. It was known by the other elves that she was confident, and very blunt when talking to others. That also didn’t stop in the romantic sense. And Bernard knew that. She wasn’t afraid to flirt with him in front of others, and that’s why he loved it so much. It made him feel good. And also slightly embarrassed. Only because he wasn’t used to that sort of attention, especially from a very beautiful girl. He wasn’t great at reciprocating her advances, but he hoped she wouldn’t stop. So far she hadn’t. But a new ‘suitor’ had entered the picture, and Bernard was not happy. Some tall, blue eyed elf that he hadn’t bothered learning the name of was also receiving the flirtatious attention from Y/N, and unfortunately he was much better at dishing it back than Bernard was.

“I’m not obsessed with Y/N,” Curtis rolled his eyes at that remark, “I’m just curious to know why she thinks it’s okay to talk with that guy when they both have a lot of work to do.”

The younger elf snorted. “You don’t seem to have an issue when she’s talking to you and wasting precious work time.”

“You’re not helping,” Bernard huffed, walking away from Curtis and towards the workshop, trying to get the image of Y/N and the tall, blue eyed elf out of his head.

**************************************************************************************

It had been a few hours since his last conversation with Curtis, and Bernard had quickly calmed down, busying himself with tasks he had yet completed for the holiday season. However, it hadn’t helped him get Y/N out of his head. From the constant flirting, to seeing her using that charm on someone else, Bernard was unsure where the relationship stood. Was it all a big joke to her? Had she been leading him on the last few months to mess with him? Before he could dive deeper into his existential dread, a soft voice sounded from behind him.

“Hey handsome.”

Bernard froze slightly, and looked over his shoulder to see Y/N walk through the door, a stack of paperwork in her hands and a bright smile on her face. Glitter on her cheeks and nose, sporting a new dress that glimmered in the light, Bernard thought she looked like an angel ready to be set atop the Christmas tree. He shook himself out of his trance, and smiled tightly back at her, unable to form any words. He quickly turned back around, continuing his sort out of different coloured wrapping paper. It wasn’t usually Bernard’s job, but he needed the distraction, and the wrapping room was a quiet place to come in the evenings.

“Curtis told me you’d be in here and I need you to sign these papers for Santa.”

Y/N held the paperwork out towards Bernard, their fingers touching briefly once he reached out to grab them. He placed them on the side of the desk and mumbled a ‘thanks’ under his breath, barely audible. Y/N let out a small huff and strolled around Bernard, taking in his tense form.

She smiled again. “So. How’s my favourite elf doing?”

Bernard didn’t bother looking up from his work. “He’s very busy at the moment,” his tone dull and unwavering.

A hand suddenly came into the head elf’s view, and hit the desk hard, jolting everything laying on top. Bernard jumped back and looked to the side where Y/N stood with eyebrows raised and her mouth pursed.

“Have I done something to upset you?” She asked, crossing her arms and popping her hip to the side.

Bernard wasn’t sure what to say, nor how Y/N might react. He’d never been great at showcasing his feelings, especially in the romantic sense. But this wasn’t just some random girl he’d found cute once and never interacted with. This was Y/N. One of his closest friends, someone he cared deeply for. Who seemed to care deeply about him too. She was also someone he worked with. The possibility of admitting how he felt, and for her to not feel the same, it would no doubt make things awkward. And he’d hate to ruin what they already have. Even if it killed him to see her flirting with someone else.

“You’ve done nothing, I’ve just had a lot on my plate and I can’t handle any distractions at the moment,” Bernard finally replied, trying to keep his voice level.

“Really?” Y/N bit back, “because I feel like you’ve been avoiding me all day. And since when do you spend time in the wrapping paper room? When Curtis told me you were here, I was worried you might be having a mental breakdown.” She ended with a joke, but part of Bernard knew there was truth behind her words.

The head elf felt himself boiling over. His temper was short, and everyone knew that, but when it came to Y/N he was unusually chill. Her presence was good for him. Not at this moment though. He could feel himself ready to lash out, and he was worried what could be said.

“Do I have to explain everything to you? Can I not spend time alone without you knowing where and what I’m doing every second of every day?”

“I’m sorry I care about you and want to know what you’re up to! Sure you can have all the time you want alone, I just don’t like it when you avoid me completely,” by now, both of their voices were shaking and getting louder.

“I thought you’d want to spend more time with your new tall, blue eyed friend,” Bernard instantly regretted his words.

Y/N opened her mouth but closed it almost instantly, her brow furrowed and confusion clear on her face. “What are you talking about?” her voice now considerably calmer.

Bernard could feel the embarrassment wash over him, desperate to think of some excuse, but coming up short. “This morning, I saw you talking to someone. It looked like he was flirting, and you seemed to be doing the same back,” Y/N’s face softened as she begun to realise what and who the older elf was talking about. “It got to me, okay? It bothered me that you were talking to him in that way when,” a slight pause, “you usually only talk to me that way.”

Y/N shook her head, a confused look returning briefly. “I don’t understand, you never showed any interest in my flirting, why is it bothering you when I do it to someone else.”

“Because I like you!” There it was. That barrier Bernard built high for years, keeping relationships at bay, had just been broken. And he didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing. “I’m not the best at showing my emotions. Romantically speaking, I’m an amateur at it. And I’m sorry I was never good at reciprocating your advances. I guess it doesn’t matter if it was just a joke to you.”

Y/N reached out quickly, grabbing Bernard’s hand and holding it close to her. “It was never a joke to me. I just didn’t think you liked me in that way so I stopped. Thought I’d try with someone else to help me move on from you.” She moved a step forward, standing toe to toe. “I knew it would never work. You’re the only person I truly care about, in that way.”

Bernard was speechless. He couldn’t stop staring into her eyes, brimmed with emotion but full of love. He mostly felt like an idiot. Never taking the chance before now to make a move or admit how he felt. He finally felt at peace. Like everything had finally worked out.

“What now?” Bernard awkwardly questioned, placing his hands on Y/N’s hips.

“I think you should probably kiss me before someone else does,” She jested back.

They both laugh and lean in, Y/N’s hands going to hold the head elf’s face. The kiss deepened, Y/N moving her left hand to the back of Bernard’s head, tugging slightly at his curls. This elicited a deep moan from Bernard’s throat, his pants growing tighter, as he tugged Y/N somehow closer to him and towards the desk still covered with wrapping paper.

“Why did we wait so long to do this?” Y/N mumbled out between wet kisses.

Bernard moved to sucking her neck, most definitely leaving bruises. “I don’t know. But I never want to stop.”

They continued making out, Y/N feeling the desk behind her and sliding on top, pulling Bernard in between her legs. She felt him growing harder, and slowly moved her hand down, palming at the front of his pants. Bernard couldn’t help but whimper slightly, gripping the side of the desk as well as Y/N’s thigh. Keeping one hand on his hard on, she moved her other back up and unbuttoned his shirt, rubbing her hand in circular motions on his chest. Bernard followed soon after, taking hold of the bottom of her shirt and lifting it over her head. The couple continued kissing and touching anywhere they could reach, seeming to care little to none about the door still being open, or whether someone walked by and found them in their current predicament. They were just glad to have finally admitted how they felt. In the back of his head, Bernard reminded himself to thank that tall, blue eyed elf for bringing out the jealousy in him.

(Sorry it seems to cut short, I’m terrible at writing smut or intimate stuff but I hope you all enjoyed anyways :))

[writingjourney]

Benedict x fem!reader fic preview anyone?

It will be a cute 4+1 times situation with some wholesome (and spicy!!!) moments during their engagement period.

EDIT: FIND THE FULL FIC HERE!! OR ON AO3 ✌🏼

─── ⋆⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺⋆ ───

He stops, leans against the frame of the open door to the drawing room and drinks you in. The pianoforte is angled away from the open windows, your back turned to him. Bare skin shimmers in the sunlight, diffused by sheer white curtains that stream dreamily in the mild breeze. He follows the line of your shoulders where they rise and fall as your hands dance across the keys, then up the curve of your spine where your neck is exposed under pinned-up hair. The music seems to carry the easy with which you hold yourself.

He notes that your maid is not with you, a sign that the staff is kept busy with the wedding preparations. Or perhaps you sent her away as you are prone to do, craving solitude – and opportunities to meet him. Benedict finds himself chasing these moments in which he gets to have you to himself like they’re his sanctuary, so precious that he has to pile them up with care like gemstones in the shrine of his love for you. One day soon he will be able to display them more openly. For now he has to grasp them as they appear.

You only hear him when his steps have reached so close that not even the rugs can muffle them anymore. A few weeks ago you might have been startled by him appearing out of nowhere but by now it is rather natural that he should find you when you are alone. It seems he has a sense for it.

When you look up he is already urging to you scoot over. The double piano bench is rather narrow but you think he might be closing in more than necessary. You’re acutely aware of the press of his thigh against yours.

“Do not let me disturb you, dearest,” he says in the dulcet tone you know means mischief.

“Is your goal not to disturb me, Mr Bridgerton?”

“My goal,” he whispers, leaning in conspiratorially, “is to be closer to the music.”

His breath on your neck does nothing to enhance your ability to focus. The first few notes are not quite rhythmic as a shiver runs through your limbs and down your fingertips. You soon find your footing, however, and the song comes to life in the form of a moderately slow but all the more magical sonata of your own composition. Sheet music is quite expensive and your collection rather limited. To add some variety you recently began to write your own, significantly inspired by Benedict and his artworks.

“Beautiful,” he whispers to himself and you smile as you transition into a faster section of the song that reminds you of fairies frolicking in a meadow, drunk on honeydew and starlight.

However, you soon realise that he did not talk about the music. His hand dances along your back, fingertips drumming over your spine until they come to rest on the swell of your hip on the other side. It is the closest thing to an embrace, his arm a comforting support behind your back. His proximity, if thrilling, does not deter you. Your hands remember exactly what they must do – over a decade of tutoring has left its marks.

Your confidence is short-lived. His hair tickles your ear as he leans in, a soft press of his lips to your shoulder, devoted, sensuous and… lingering. Your fingers slip but for a moment. It is enough to draw the wrong tunes from the instrument, a cacophonous quake that has you wincing in surprise.

“You must stay focused,” Benedict warns, lips still warm on your skin, “or everyone shall hear that you are… rather distracted.”

“How fortunate that I am known for my stable countenance.”

“Hm, yes, that is what they say about you, my darling, “ he whispers. “If only they saw you as I do, falling apart at the mere idea of a kiss.”

You close your eyes and recollect yourself, trying desperately to ignore how he feels against you. Despite his warning he shows no signs of stopping, not even as you resume your play. The next kiss hits the crook of your neck. You feel his nose against your jaw as he inhales your scent, rose oil and soap. For a moment his warm exhale against your throat overshadows the fact that is fingers curl at your hip, a not so innocent squeeze that you feel somewhere between your legs.

You’re aware that both of your families are just outside in the gardens, that the open windows and the steady breeze carry your tunes far out on the premises. Muscle memory serves you and you finish the hardest part of the song without more than one or two off-key notes. Benedict has been silent, lips lingering just below your ear. Just as you move on to the conclusion his mouth gets more insistent, sucking gently at your delicate skin as he gets carried away.

”Benedict,“ you warn. Crooked tunes are one thing, a vivid red kiss mark another.

“Forgive me,” he whispers, pressing tiny kisses along your neck now. “I cannot help it.”

You finish the song with a relieved exhale, wondering if a musical number has ever felt so painfully long before. Benedict has lost his patience, it seems. His free hand comes to rest on your sternum as though he needs to feel the agitated rise and fall of your chest. You only have a moment to relish in the soft feel of his palm on your bosom before he curls his fingers over your jaw and forces your head to turn to him. His kiss is dizzying, starved. He tastes of the strawberries he must have had outside just earlier.

You allow him to kiss you breathless before you remove yourself. He tries to chase after you, as he is won’t to do, but a finger on his swollen lips has him halting. His expression rivals that of Newton when he is in want of a treat.

“We must go back outside before they find us,” you say. “It is already suspicious enough that I played off-key the moment you stepped inside.”

“I blame you for being such a flawless musician.”

“I blame you for being such an irresistible distraction. Now come on, my darling, I am suddenly in want of some sweet strawberries.”

He sighs woefully and you cannot help but kiss the pout from his face.

─── ⋆⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺⋆ ───

This fic is coming within the next week I would say, it will be 18+ so MDNI. Let me know if you want to be tagged in the full thing!! (just in case this lands in the hashtag and someone actually sees it haha) ♡

[oceaneyesinla]

Hiiii! Congrats on your milestone! I hope you have many more followers! :)

Id love prompt #6 (giving them a head massage) with Umemiya from Wind Breaker. I’d love to run my fingers through his hair and just listen to him. 🥰

Steph!!!! thank you so much 😊🤍 i love Ume so much and i fear it shows - this is disgustingly soft even for me, and we all know how soft and squishy my fluff gets!

Part of my Fluff, Fluff and More Fluff Event - submissions still open!

Prompt 6: giving them a head massage while they listen to the other one talk about their day

Umemiya Hajime x gn!Reader

Divider by @/adornedwithlight

Umemiya Hajime is many things to many people. To the boys of Bofurin, he's a stalwart leader, a pillar of strength they can rely on through fair weather and harsh storms. To his inner circle, his Four Kings, he's a trusted friend, one they confide in and one they stand alongside with pride. To Kotoha, he's the older brother she will never admit she loves to have. She rolls her eyes and shrugs off his open, enthusiastic affection, but you know she appreciates the unconditional love he shows her. To the people of Makochi, he's a jack of all trades - the shop owners shower him in discounted goods and the elderly pinch his cheeks and remark on how he's a 'nice young man’ and the children idolise him, staring up at him with stars in their eyes as he tells them stories and lets them ride on his shoulders.

Umemiya Hajime is everything to everyone, But to you? He's your Hajime. Nothing more, nothing less. You love the man he is outside the walls of your home - strong, passionate and infinitely kind. He fights with his heart and loves with every fibre of his being and sometimes, when you watch him sing to his plants or mentor his kouhai, you feel like your heart will burst with all the affection you feel for him.

You know the responsibility he carries is a heavy load, and you feel honoured that he leaves that load at the door - shrugging off the weight along with his Bofurin jacket, hanging it up on the hook in the hallway and allowing you into the portion of his heart reserved just for you. Instead of being the caretaker, he allows himself to be taken care of. He puts the same trust in you as the members of Bofurin put into him, and you cradle his heart like the most precious treasure of all.

He lets himself soften when it's just the two of you, and there's a part of you that enjoys that fact. The great Umemiya Hajime placed his heart in your hands, and no-one else will ever see him quite the way you do.

Right now, if someone saw him, they would never believe his fearsome reputation. He's stretched out on the couch, silky hair free of product and falling into his eyes. His reading glasses are perched on his nose, though the book he was reading has been abandoned, now resting on his chest. His attention is occupied by the way your hand is gently carding through soft strands, nails lightly scratching over his scalp with each pass. A dopey, affectionate grin is stretching across his face, like he's some kind of Samoyed, and you're sure that if he was, his tail would be wagging,

He loves to be the centre of your attention, and lucky for him, you love to give it to him. It's as relaxing for you as it is for him - he's freshly showered, smelling of his favourite body wash and flowery shampoo, and the weight of his head in your lap is grounding.

"Do you feel better now, Haji? Do your knuckles hurt?” He came home roughed up, knuckles bruised and pretty face bloody. He looked far too content while you were patching him up, and you suspect he was just happy to have your hands on him, wiping the blood away with a gentle touch.

He slides his glasses off, mischief shining in his eyes, "If I say yes, will you kiss them better?”

You know the smile tugging at your lips is nothing short of adoring, and you reach for one hand, lifting it up and pressing a featherlight kiss to the damaged skin of his knuckles, "I'd do it even if you said no, baby.” You place his hand back on his chest, repeating your actions on his other hand. When both hands have been given your magical healing kisses, you lean down to press one to his forehead too, just for good measure.

He's beaming up at you, and your heart swells with love once again. Your hand slides back into his hair, and you resume your soothing rhythm, "Now, for the kisses to work, you've got to tell me about the seedlings we planted last month. Are they growing well?”

It's just an excuse to listen to his voice, and the little laugh that escapes Ume tells you that he's well aware. He indulges you all the same, just as you indulge him, and that's how you spend the rest of your night; Hajime gesticulating excitedly while he told you all about your seedlings, and his tomatoes, and the radishes a reluctant Sakura helped him plant - and you hanging onto his every word like he hung the moon and the stars in the sky, one hand still playing with his hair and the other resting over his heart. It's comfortable, it's familiar, and you're exactly where you always want to be - wrapped up in the love you share.

[bakuhoewriting]

CLASS 1B HEADCANNONS THAT MAKE SENSE

☰ NOTES⋮ reader! is in Class 1-A ; gn!reader x Class 1-B; some mildly suggestive themes

𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐄 tends to weld himself onto your side whenever he’s exhausted from training. It may earn him a scolding from Vlad-sensei or even Shiozaki-san, but you never complain and if Yosetsu gets to fall asleep cuddled in your warmth, that’s his prerogative.

𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐀 carries a polaroid of you in his wallet. It’s frayed at the edges from time, but it’s the first polaroid you ever took together. He keeps it alongside his provisional hero license because it’s the best motivation he has for the future.

𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐈 has a pet Rhinoceros Beetle he keeps in his dorm room. You caught the little guy when he took you bug-catching for your first date to the local park. It wasn’t until you compared him to the little guy with pink cheeks and a wide smile that Togaru just had to have him.

𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐈𝐑𝐎 hosts a seánce in your room every month. He would do it in his room, but Shiozaki’s room is close to his and he’d rather not be accused of sinful behaviour (as if your other activities aren’t sinful, but Shiozaki-san doesn’t need to know that).

𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐎 often plans informal joint class outings with Yaoyorozu so your classes can bond. It doesn’t always work—Mineta, Monoma and Bakugo are banned for the next three activites—but she’s just glad to see you mingle with her classmates.

𝐊𝐎𝐃𝐀𝐈 is a frequent vistitor of UA’s communal garden. In fact, she recently signed up to have her own plot so she can grow tomatoes and cucumbers—both for her and for you.

𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐎𝐙𝐀𝐊𝐈 was in her churchs’ choir. She doesn’t do it often, but if you’re especially tired than she’ll sing you to sleep. It works everytime.

𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐀 has an Uncle in France that he’s really close to. His Uncle is the person who told him the story of the Beast of Gevaudan, and the first person Jurota confided in about his crush on you. If you ever get married, his Uncle Daichi has offered his estate for the wedding.

𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐃𝐀 always wanted to give Boxing a go, but didn’t have the courage to visit a gym (largely due to his size) until you offered to join him. It’s one of the many things he’s grateful to you for and now something of a couples’ activity for the weekends.

𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈 didn’t know you could speak English until you laughed at her insulting Monoma during a joint training session. Now, she begs you to talk in English whenever you’re together because she finds your accent really cute.

𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐀 definitely fainted the first time you agreed to study with him in his room. Bleeding nose and all. The same thing happened when you proposed to study in your own room so now you just work together in the common room. It’s better for his health that way.

𝐓𝐄𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐓𝐒𝐔 will deny it for as long as he can, but sometimes he does provoke you into a senseless argument. Namely because you have an adorable pouty face and his heart is reduced to a pandrum whenever you kabedon him to tell him off. It’s glorious.

𝐓𝐎𝐊𝐀𝐆𝐄 has a dinosaur onsie that she wears whenever she misses you. It’s not her colour, but it’s the same colour as your eyes so it’s automatically her favourite. She’s also got a matching pair for you in green, one that she’s planning to give you for your birthday.

𝐅𝐔𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈 has an all year-round pass to the Manga Museum in Kyoto. It’s become a post-exam tradition to visit the Museum everytime you want a celebrate, because in addition to reading some of his favourite manga, you often stop for ramen on your way back to UA.

𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐊𝐈 tends to smell like jasmine and sweet orange with how often he lathers his hands in massaging oil. It earns him some light ribbing from the boys at first, but that ends as soon as you show up smelling the exact same from massaging Juzo in return.

𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐎 practiced his confession to you for two weeks because he didn’t want to stammer mid-confession. It didn’t work, but it turned out that you liked him with his stammer anyway; in fact, you have a nervous tic of over gesticulating which he soon found was endearing all the same.

𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐌𝐀 has a growing pile of Franco-Belgian comics in your room. 9/10 times his comics lead to an argument between him and your classmates whenever he comes over to take one back. Bakugo’s now petitioning to have him banned.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐈 is an avid fan of Kabuki theatre; in particular, the popular horror classic Yotsuya Kaidan. For your first Halloween as a couple, you dress as Tamiya Lemon and Oiwa. Not a conventional couple by any means, but it makes Reiko glow in a way you’ve never seen before so it’s worth it.

𝐑𝐈𝐍 read that couples who watch the first snowfall are destined to stay together forever so he plans your first date for late-Autum. He’s shivering for most of your time together, but there are two highlights by the end of the night: when you worriedly draped your scarf around his neck and when a snowflake landed on his cheek in the middle of a spontaneous kiss.

– 2023 ©️ credit to bakuhoewriting ; soon to be crossposted on all my other accounts under the same name!

[dreamywriter143]

Request for a jealous Neteyam x reader? Or maybe a jealous Lo'ak x reader??

Jealously

Status: Request By Anon/Scenario

Genre/Warnings: Fluff, tiniest bit of Angst, some mentions of violence and possessiveness.

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: Thank you for your request Anon!! I loved the idea but I was conflicted on who should I choose. And then I thought of the brilliant idea to to do both of them in a scenario setting. So I ended up doing it, got kinda carried away tho……I hope you enjoy!

_________________________________________

Neteyam

(Romantic Jealousy)

Neteyam is fully confident and trusting of his mate. He would never get jealous over meaningless situations or a mere glance here and there. He understands how beautiful his mate is and how that would gain attention from time to time.

In fact it’s when he catches someone gawking at her is when he realizes how lucky he is to have landed such a perfect mate. It’s just when any Na’vi men approach her with deeper intentions, that’s when his jealousy kicks in. He doesn’t like when other men think they have a shot as what is rightfully his, what he worked so hard for.

Neteyam is fully aware of where his mate's heart resides, but that doesn’t stop the burning jealousy that twists along his guts as he watches from afar. His tail swishes behind him violently as his eyes train onto whoever dares to approach his mate.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Short Secenario~~~~~~~~~~~~

Neteyam’s eyes glared into Ao’nung who had approached Y/n earlier. His ears twitched uneasily as he strained to hear what Ao’nung had been whispering into his mate's ear. He was able to catch a few words here and there, none of which settled the feeling inside.

Y/n giggles at a stupid joke the male Na’vi says that further angers Neteyam. How dare he? Ao’nung knew who Y/n belonged to. Yet he still persisted much to Neteyam’s dismay.

Neteyam’s nose flares as he watches the way Ao’nung gazed at Y/n. It wasn't like how other men glanced at her, appreciating her beauty. No. It was a gaze of longing, a gaze of lust.

Of wanting to take her from him. And that didn’t sit well with Neteyam. Before Neteyam could hold himself back his feet carry him across the beach and beside his mate in a matter of seconds. His tail gave away how agitated he felt despite the forced smile along his lips.

“Ao’nung, if you don’t mind I need to take my mate somewhere. I do believe you have duties aligned for you today?” Neteyam says politely despite the rage behind his eyes, keeping the sharp tone under wraps. Even though he was well acquainted with Ao’nung, even becoming close friends. Neteyam didn’t trust him with his mate. He had faith and trust in Y/n. Just not in him.

Ao’nung nods at his words before sending a playful wink to Y/n. Neteyam’s glare seems to harden as he catches the gesture. He clenches his jaw holding back to urge to punch some respect into the Metkayina boy as he retreats. Y/n peers up at her mate, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“Are you mad?” Y/n asks, watching Neteyam gulps audibly. His clenched jaw and furrowed eyebrows was not fooling anyone.

“No, I’m not mad Y/n” he replies stiffly, opting not to turn to his mate knowing full well she would be able to read him like a book.

“Then why is your tail twitching?” Y/n asks, feeling his tail twitch behind him violently, brushing against her lower back every so often.

“It’s by reflex. An automatic response” Neteyam shrugs, wrapping his arm across Y/n’s shoulder, Y/n snickers, finding amusement in the whole ordeal.

“Hm? An automatic response to…..?” Y/n smiles wide when her mate turns to her. Even though Neteyam made it very clear he wasn't the possessive type, priding himself on not getting jealous often. Y/n loved the moments when he couldn’t control it. You could see the battle rage between his irises as he tried to control the feelings within him,

“I'd rather not say.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~

Lo’ak

(Possessive Jealousy)

Lo’ak has always been a shadow to his brother who outshined him in everything. He was invisible and when he was the center of attention it was only for when he would get teased , or when he would get in trouble. That’s why when he landed Y/n he was cautious and careful. He treated her like a queen, placing her on a pedestal. He finally received the one thing in his life that gave it meaning.

Lo’ak immediately became possessive over her. He was never first for anything in his life so when he became Y/n’s first he became obsessed. He’s the type to coddle his mate, always staying by her side showering her with love while keeping anyone and everyone away. Why should the world see what belongs to him?

Why should any other male Na’vi have the privilege to talk, let alone gaze at what gave his entire being meaning? He’s not the type to restrict his mate to her freedom, he’s just the type to make sure no one gets the chance to get near her with ill intentions. To even try to attempt anything with her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Short Secenario~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Baby, I told you it's ok! I can carry them just fine, they're not even heavy!!” Y/n argues, failing miserably as she tries to grab the basket Lo’ak held against him tightly. It was true that the basket wasn't heavy, it wasn't even filled to the top.

But, while Lo’ak was keeping Y/n company as she forged for herbs, he caught the gaze of the men around her. Eyeing the basket as a means to get near her. It was as if Lo’ak could hear all of them think of openings to get near her, start a conversation with her. And Lo’ak wouldn’t let that happen.

“It’s fine baby. Let me help you! Let’s get these to Mo’at” Lo’ak says smiling down at his petite angel. Y/n pouts cutely grabbing onto his arm. She presses herself against him as they walk through the forest. Lo’ak turns his head to glance at where they had been earlier. He felt a smirk play along his lips as he watches some of the warriors stare at them, stare at how Y/n held Lo’ak.

‘That’s right, she mine and mine alone’

“Oh! Y/n!” A males voice pipes up making Lo’ak’s head snap forward. His eyes harden as he takes in the male Na’vi in front of him. His ears flattening against his head as he feels a threatening hiss nearly break through.

“Oh, Ika’lu. What are you doing here?” Y/n asks in confusion. Ika’lu was her childhood friend, someone she felt a bit uncomfortable with due to how often she would run into him. It was as if he followed her.

Unfortunately Lo’ak knew for a fact that he did, it wasn't a mere coincidence that he was always present where Y/n was. Lo’ak would know, because he is always watching her.

“I heard you were picking some herbs. Thought I could help” Ika’lu replies, completely ignoring Lo’ak’s presence which further angers him. How dare he act like Lo’ak didn’t exist.

“I’m fine, thanks! I should drop them off to Mo’at. She must be waiting” Y/n says quickly, trying to pull Lo’ak along who doesn’t budge.

“Are you sure-“

“She said it’s fine!” Lo’ak hisses, taking a threatening step forward. This time Y/n tries pulling Lo’ak back from getting closer to Ika’lu, noting how stiffly he stood. Ika’lu eyes widen at his tone, turning to Lo’ak with a hint of fear behind his eyes.

“I assisted Y/n the other day, I know the best spots fo-”

“You weren’t needed then, you’re not needed now. So back off” Lo’ak gently pulls himself from Y/n. He steps closer to the male , coming face to face. Lo’ak’s eyes watches gleefully how the taller boy seems to cower under Lo’ak’s intense glare. His bares his teeth, growling threateningly.

“Before I make you” Lo’ak whispers. His eyes squint , possessiveness dripping from his words. The unsaid words being heard loud and clear. ‘She is mine’

His tone alone made the boy's eyes widen in fear. He nods before sprinting away with his tail between his legs. Y/n pokes Lo’ak’s shoulder, her pout growing.

“What was that for!!” Y/n whines, eyeing her mate who smiles at her. His demeanor changed the instant he looked her way. His eyes soften as he glances down at her pouty lips.

“What? I didn’t say anything. He’s just a wuss!”

__________________________________________

A/N: I’m sorry for not following the affluence I posted! I need a bit more time for the pt 2’s that I’m currently working on, this scenario was so I could buy myself some time. 😂😂

[bluegalaxygirl]

Amnesia (KidKiller X Reader) P2

Plot: After an explosion reader wakes up in a hospital with no memory of the past few years, her parents want to take her home so she can recover and get back to a normal life while the Kid pirates want her back on the ship where she belongs.

Warning: Bad language, Violence, Blood and Making out.

Reader is Female, Poly Relationship, established relationship, Kid X Reader X Killer, Reader is a member of the Kid pirates and is in charge of the money, Budgeting and negotiating the best price.

< Previous part ..... Next Part >

----- You, Bubblegum, Boogie, Gig and Emma -----

The ship stopped moving a while ago but the group are still stuck in the cell under the ships deck, the only light was now coming through the slight gap around the hatch door in the hallway since the candle has fully melted away. Emma lays next to your still uncontuse and unmoving form hoping her body heat can keep your cold body warm, if it weren't for the fact your chest was moving with each shaky breath she would think your dead. The hatch door flings open making the group jump and sit up to look over at the bright morning light now flowing down into the dark belly of the ship, heavy boots walk down the wooden steps then make their way over to the cell. The white coated marine from before glares at the group as other marines come into view standing to attention and waiting for orders "I'm surprised you all made it through the night… this makes my job a lot harder" He sighs before unlocking the cell door, with a nod the other marines walk in looking the group over "Be good, and we'll get you all some medical treatment and food, got it" The white coated marine states, Boogie nods and the others follow his lead deciding not to put up a fight as their dragged out of the cell. Two marines grab your body carrying you out the cell and up the stairs into the burning morning sun light. The group squints trying to get their eyes to adjust to the new brightness but soon come face to face with a large marine prison facility, anxiety rises in the group, but they knew Kid and their crew will come for them. The group is pulled off the boat being forced to walk down the wooden dock as the white coated marine leads them, a head are a few medical personnel with a Commodore standing next to them.

The Commodore looks everyone over as they all come to a stop, his face was happy at first but soon starts to drop which made the pit in your crew stomach that much deeper. "Lieutenant, when you said you captured members of the Kid pirates i was expecting a batter catch" The insult made Gig growl but Boogie gives him a look not wanting to make the situation worse, "I'm sorry sir" The white coated marines bows, going from confident and rude to polite and fearful. The Commodore sighs pinching the bridge of his nose before stepping closer to look over the individuals of the group, walking down the line he soon stops at two marines who have laid your body on the floor slightly blocking you from his view as one puts pressure on your now bleeding shoulder. He steps closer before bending down to inspect your injuries only to recognize your face, his eyes widen and his breath hitches as his hand goes to your neck feeling for a pulse soon letting the breath out at feeling you have one. "The Fuck Lieutenant? I told you if you ever found her to call me first" The Commodore stands yelling at the white coated marine who backs up to the brick wall in fear, The medics quickly rush over to you tending to your wounds as their boss grabs the lieutenant by the collar "You've now made this more complicated than it needed to be and on top of that she's half dead. I'm not about to explain this to her farther" The groups eyes widen, was your farther a marine, if, so he must be quiet high up for this man to be so angry. "I-I'm sorry sir b-but it not like he can fire you, he's not even a-" The white coated man tries to defend himself only to get shoved to the ground.

Your crew look from the marines over to you seeing you finally getting the medical treatment you needed "Take her to the medical center, do not put her on the records. No one else is to know she's here" The Commodore yells at the medics who nod putting your body on a stretcher before rushing off. Your crew are glad your getting the help you need but the situation is scary and confusing, the marine knows you, doesn't want you on record even though your bounty if one of the higher amongst the crew and seems to be in fear of your farther a man who isn't a high ranking marine. "Get your ass up and make the call, i'm not going to be fucked over for your mistake… The rest of you come with me" The Commodore yells before storming off the dock and through the gates, the group are forced to start walking again now following the higher ranking marine as the Lieutenant walks off rubbing his shoulder with his head down. "What the hell is going on?" Boogie whispers mainly to himself but the rest of his crew here it, they all shrug not sure themselves. It didn't take long for the group to get patched up and thrown into cells but the whole ordeal made them tired wanting nothing more than to pass out on the rock hard beds with a scratchy blanket. "I don't get it" Bubblegum sighs as he lies on the bed, Gig laying on the bunk above him who lets out a questioning hum. Boogie sighs as he leans on the bars of his cell trying to look around the wall to see into Bubblegum's and Gig's cell "I don't either" he sighs not understanding the situation either.

Emma sits on the top bunk looking down at Boogie "You mean what that marine said?" She asks getting her crew mate to look up at her and nod. "I'm sure we can ask Y/N, when we get out of here" Gig sighs looking up at the ceiling hoping their captain gets here soon to get them out. "Yea but… it doesn't make sense, he's so amendment on keeping her hidden… none of what he said made sense as well, it makes me think that your dad might not be a Marine" Bubblegum thinks out loud earning raised eyebrows from the rest of his crew, Boogie looks out the call bars and tried to see his friend in the cell next to him "What? Her dad has to be for a marine to act like that" Bubblegum sighs and rolls onto his side facing the wall "I don't know, it was just a thought" Emma thinks for a second before gasping shocking Boogie who puts a hand on his heart going to yell at her for scaring him but stops at her shocked face "You don't think her farther is one of the Warlords or Elders do you?" She asks hoping that isn't the case, Gig laughs out loud holding his stomach as it starts to hurt "No way, Y/N would have mentioned something like that plus the only warlord who's old enough to be her farther is Mihawk and Y/n looks nothing like him." Boogie nods before walking over to the bottom bunk and sitting down "And the five elders are out of the question, first they would differently want her on record and second the only people who know the elders are ranked higher than that guy" The group collectively sigh deciding to give up on it for now and just rest.

----- The Victoria Punk -----

With the Vivre card in Wire's possession he navigates the ship through the calm water, night had turned to day and there was no sign of any marine ships. Heat stands behind Wire looking at a large map on the table, being on the grand line doesn't always mean a map will come in handy but it will give them an indication on what to expect. A cup of coffee is placed on the table getting Heat to look up at Killer with tired eyes "Take a break" The first mate states his voice sounding tired, of course the masked man couldn't sleep but so couldn't most of the crew including Kid since they could all come upon a marine ship at any moment. "Thanks but its best if i keep my mind busy" He sighs taking the cup of coffee and sipping on it, deciding not to push, Killer just nods and walks over to Wire handing him a cup of coffee "I took a break an hour ago" The tall man blankly looks down at the masked man knowing he was going to say the same thing he said to Heat, with a simple nod Killer leans against the wall looking out the window to the empty Sea. "I think i know where we are but its mainly a military area, so their most likely in a prison by now" Heat sighs sipping on his coffee as he looks over the map, they haven't been to this area before so there's not a lot of info to go off "We've taken on prisons before, this one won't be any different" Killer looks over at Heat, they all knew they would have to fight to get their crew members back, but they hoped it would be easier, a single ship would be simple and easy to take on.

The battle caused some damage to the Victoria but all of that was patched up now, the only thing to worry about is if the rest of the crew is well rested and patched up enough for another big and chaotic fight. The main person Killer is worried about is Kid mainly because the captain has locked himself in his office again and refuses to sleep wanting to keep his mind busy, its not like the masked man can blame him, he tried to sleep but his mind wouldn't stop going over the previous battle and what's about to come. Killer's snapped out of his thoughts by Wire who hums in slight confusion "What?" The masked man asks looking out of the window while walking closer to the tall man but there's nothing out there just empty sea "Her Vivre card" Wire states holding out the card between his fingers letting Killer and now Heat who walks over to see the card burning a little only to stop and then heal up, it does this a few times in a rhythmic pattern taking short breaks in between "I've never seen one do that before" Heat raises an eyebrow as Killer takes a hold of the card watching as it continues to burn then heal over and over again, none of them had any idea what it meant, was it good or bad? "Maybe she's getting treatment" Wire tries to reassure them since there's no need to worry unless it doesn't heal back as it burns. With a sigh Killer hands the card back to Wire since its still trying to move in the direction your are "Yea your probably right, Call me if anything changes" The masked man pats Wires shoulder before giving Heat a nod and walking out the door.

On the way to Kids workroom Killer debated whether to tell the red head about the card, he had to since Kid is the Captain but on the other hand he didn't want the man to lose his shit. With a sigh knowing what he has to do Killer knocks on the door before opening it "Hay" He calls out letting the Captain know who it is so something isn't thrown his way "What?" Kid grumbles while hunched over his work bench tinkering with some metal, walking up to the table the masked man places a hand on it, so he can lean over to see the red head's face "There still no sign of the ship but Heat has figured out where we are, it's a marine area mostly prisons" Killer informs earning a simple nod from Kid his eyes still fixed on his little contraption, of course the captain didn't care about that, it didn't matter where they were he would raise hell in hell itself if thats where he ended up. There's a moment of silence as Killer prepares himself for what ever he has to deal with in the next few minutes "Y/n card is doing something strange" Kids eyes widen as his head shoots up to look at the masked man wanting more info. "Its burning but then healing back up over and over again" Killer grits his teeth as Kid stares up at him a look of anger and confusion, the masked man raises an eyebrow at this not used to this kind of reaction but at least Kid isn't going mental and putting more holes in the ship. Leaning his back against the table Killer takes his mask off and places it on the side "I don't know what it means but Wire said she might be getting treatment" Killer crosses his arms over his chest as he looks down at Kid though his blonde hair that covers most of his eyes.

Kid didn't know what to think as he sits in his chair, his hands clenched hard around the tools he was using moments ago, seeing Killer's calm face made him feel a little better since if the blonde wasn't worried than its most likely nothing to worry about "Is it still moving?" The red head suddenly asks earning a simple nod from Killer, it means they can still find you and the crew you were with, releasing his tools the captain runs a hand though his red hair while leans back in his chair with a groan "Any idea how long we have to sit here?" Kid grumbles as his eyes look up at the ceiling getting annoyed with how long its taking, you may be getting treatment, but he trusts his ships doctor more than those marines "No idea, we're most likely an hour at minimum behind them" Killer states not happy about the wait either but there's nothing they can do to change it, all they can do is rest and prepare for the next fight. There's a long silence between the two both stuck with their own thoughts on the situation, Killer's was mainly planning ahead, thinking about how to go about things and what treatment you and the others will need, while Kid had his mind focused on killing those who hurt you and his crew. He wanted their heads, he knows the rest of the crew will find you and the others so his main job was to take anyone out who got in their way.

Killer's eyes wonder a little looking at Kid's hand that's laying on the desk his fingers tap in a rhythmic pattern, sliding his hand over the blonde takes Kid hand holding it tight in reassurance. The red head looks over, his eyes meeting with his first mates even though their slightly covered by his blonde hair, they stare at each other for a while before the captain stands steeping closer to Killer before placing his forehead on his shoulder and wrapping his arms around the blonde's waist. Killer lets out a soft sigh wrapping his arms around the captain letting the man use this time to calm his nerves, the two are worried, but they hate to show it unless its only the three of you alone. Kid lets out a groan in frustration "How the hell did everything go wrong?" He grumbles earning a shrug from Killer who truly didn't know how things got so bad, they were doing a great job, they had the upper hand and the man power. No one expected the marines to fire on their own ship especially one that still had marine on it. Despite how he's feeling Killer's mind went to one person, yes the two are feeling bad but judging by how he's acting their friend isn't taking this too well. "I think you should talk to Heat" The first mate suddenly states making Kid raise a brow while lifting his head up to look at the blonde "He isn't taking this too well, he hasn't slept, and he won't take a break." Killer continues watching as the captain sighs closing his eyes for a second, he's not used to this kind of thing, Killer and Heat usually deal with these kinds of issues and if Killer is asking him to do it then that means he's already tried and failed.

The captain grabs the blonde's arms pulling them away from his waist "I'll order him to take a break" Kid groans letting go of Killer's arms only for the man to grab him stopping the red head from walking away "That's not what i meant… I know your not good at this kind of thing but i think he just needs reassurance from you" Killer knows he's asking a lot of his captain, but he can't think of anything else, The red head sighs again mentally cursing the man in front of him "Why can't you do it? Your better at this… What am i even supposed to say?" Kid yells in frustration and anger but makes no move to pull away from his first mate who's still holding his arms, Killer takes a step closer closing the gap between the two "I think he just needs to know your not mad at him" Kid groans and goes to speak only for the masked man to cover the captains mouth with his hand earning a surprised look "I know you said it wasn't his fault but you stormed off right after, it wasn't really convincing anyone. You just need to calmly tell him your not mad and its not his fault." Killer states as Kid rolls his eyes, but he gives a nod, happy with the response the blonde removes his hand and pats the red heads chest only for his wrist to be grabbed tight. "I'm only doing this because of you… got it?" Kid glares not happy about doing it but if you or Killer give ask him he'll most likely do it especially if he can get a little something in return. Knowing what he wants Killer gives a small smile before leaning up and placing his lips on his captains, Kid instantly leans in shoving his tongue into his first mates mouth not waiting for permission, not that he needed it.

Killer lets his captain do what he wants while kissing back just as hard earning a hum of satisfaction from Kid, the captain soon pulls away with a smirk before letting go of the blonde and heading out to talk to Heat. Walking out onto the deck Kid was surprised to find the stitched man leaning on the side of the ship looking out at the calm ocean "Taking a break?" The captain asks startling his friend a little but Heat soon relax and goes back to watching the water as Kid leans next to him "Wire kicked me out" The red head lets out a chuckle while shaking his head, it takes a lot to get on the tall man's nerves so Heat must have done something really annoying for a long time. Silence fell between the two, there's slight tension mainly on Heats part but Kid sighs knowing what he promised to do. "I'm not mad" The captain states turning to look away from the stitched man who looks at his captain in slight shock "I don't blame you for anything, If you didn't leave the ship your fire could have caused an explosion. Then we would have lost Y/n, the other and you. No one knew what was going to happen or that the marines would be stupid enough to kill their own men. I don't want you working yourself to death or being too tired for our next fight for something you couldn't control, now will you stop blaming yourself and sulking around and just go to bed or something" Kid rambles a bit trying to get his point across while turning to look at his friend in slight anger, Heat lets a smile form on his face while letting out a small laugh "Thanks Captain, I'll get some rest " The stitched man pats Kids shoulder before walking off feeling a lot better now that he knows his captain and friend doesn't hate him or blame him.

[soulofapatrick]

Not What I Thought - Henry Fox x Male Reader

Summary: You meet Henry at Philip and Martha's wedding to find you're both as enthralled by the other as the other

Words: 2.1k 

Warnings: None really, almost smut but interrupted

Notes: Henry and Alex from RWRB have taken over my life 🤣🤣🤣

Y/N’s POV

To say that I wasn’t absolutely shitting myself would be a lie as I step out of the limo with Alex, my older brother, and Nora, the vice president’s daughter. Usually, Alex and Nora would take this job but mother wanted me to start getting out into the spotlight and making a name for myself as Alex is about to start running the campaign in Texas and June has officially become a speech writer for the Whitehouse while I’ve done nothing. I’m only just eighteen and I have the whole world knowing my name which is rather daunting, but, not as daunting as this…

Buckingham Palace is fucking huge, and gold and full of fancy shit that I don’t know the name of. I’m not even sure why I said yes to this. Alex is grumbling and rolling his eyes about how snobbish and pretentious Prince Henry is while Nora is basically bouncing as she walks, full to the brim with excitement, as she drags my stumbling self behind her to line up and greet the royal family as they enter the hall. Or ballroom. I’m not sure, all these rooms are too big to distinguish them. 

Prince Philip and his new wife, Martha, look to be the snobbish ones, noses upturned and voice articulate as they shake hands with every important member of governments and royal connections in this line. He looks at us three like we’re the dirt under his shoes and shakes Alex’s hand like he has the plague before skipping me entirely and greeting Nora with a little better attitude. Next is Bea, the middle child and the wild child from what I hear. She’s pleasant if somewhat reserved but she greets the three of us like we’re long lost childhood friends reuniting and it leaves a warm feeling in my chest even if I don’t actually swing that way. She’s waltzing Nora away before anyone can say anything and suddenly I’m face to face with beauty. 

Prince Henry. He stands tall - taller than Alex - and regal amidst the opulent surroundings of Buckingham Palace. His blond hair impeccably styles, the locks sweeping messily back from his forehead with natural elegance. The subtle curl at the ends softens his appearance, giving him an approachable air despite his royal stature. The rich hue of his hair contrasts perfectly with his fair, porcelain complexion. His eyes, a light shade of blue that seems to hold a depth of emotions, are set beneath finely arched eyebrows. They radiate a mixture of curiosity, kindred and a hint of despair - a combination that makes it hard to look away. 

His features are finely chiseled, with a strong jawline that adds a touch of masculinity to his ethereal beauty. His lips, full and oh so inviting, seem to hold a natural grace that could effortlessly break into a smile or a quick teasing grin. His tailored suit fits him like a second skin, emphasising his lean build and hinting at a strength beneath the refined exterior. The way he carries himself, with an air of confidence tempered by genuine interest in those around him, makes it easy to see why he captures the attention of all who meet him despite Alex’s stories of how entitled and narcissistic he is. 

As his voice reaches my ears, it’s warm and inviting, breaking through the nervousness that has settled within me, “Good evening,” He says, his tone polite but not distant, “I don’t believe we have had the pleasure of meeting before. May I have your name?” 

His hand, when he extends it for a handshake, is warm and firm, his grip confident yet not overpowering. There’s a sincerity in the ay he clasps my hand, a fleeting connection that carries a sense of genuine interest. As his blue eyes meet mine, I can’t help but feel that beneath all the rumours I’ve heard and the expectations, there’s a complexity to Prince Henry that is both intriguing and captivating. 

“Y-your majest- Oh no! Your royal highness-“ Alex facepalms from beside me, watching me fumble over my words as my brain displays images of Henry pressing me up against the nearest wall and having me any way he likes, “Y-Y/N. It’s Y/N Claremont-Diaz.” 

“Well,” His eyes seemed to have darkened as they sweep over me once, not in the same way Philip did, and oh fuck me. I am not going to make it through this evening if he keeps looking at me like that, especially when he leans in close, breath hot against my cheek, “I hope to see you later.”

As quickly as he appeared, Henry is gone, and Alex is at my side, steering me toward the bustling ballroom where the after party is in full swing. Amidst the crowd, Alex seems to vanish in search of alcohol, leaving me to navigate the sea of unfamiliar faces. My eyes find Nora, her laughter blending with Bea's in a way that suggests they've been friends for years. I decide to do what I do best, explore without getting seen, blend into the shadows and find a quiet spot where no-one will disturb me, except maybe Amy who is my PPO for the day. Deciding to retreat into my comfort zone, 

I slip away quietly, becoming a shadow in the corners of the palace. It doesn't take long before I stumble upon a room, a hidden oasis amidst the grandeur, filled with books. Floor-to-ceiling shelves line the walls, laden with leather-bound volumes and dusty tomes. The soft glow of sconces illuminates the space, casting an inviting warmth that contrasts with the glitz and glamour outside. I step further into the room, running my fingers over the spines of the books. It’s mesmerising, the sheer collection of knowledge and stories tucked away in here. For a moment, I forget about the grand event unfolding just beyond these walls. I lose myself in the comfort of solitude and the intoxicating scent of aged pages. 

Just as I’m lost in my thoughts, the door creaks open, and I spin around to face the intruder, expecting to be Amy or Alex, having found me finally. But the sight that greets me is anything but ordinary. Henry stands there, his presence no longer commanding but somehow ordinary, like another person in the streets. His blue eyes meet mine, and there’s a shared understanding that in this moment neither of us are from royalty or fame, we are just Y/N and Henry. 

“You are an enigma, nothing at all how I imagined.” He tells me, quietly closing the door and making his way over to me, gesturing to the sofa. I sink straight into the plush cushions, Henry sitting on my left, one leg tucked under himself and arm flung over the back of the sofa, expression open and I have to adjust my seat imagining pushing him back and kissing him breathless. 

We exchange banter, light teasing, and the kind of easy conversation that’s reserved for moments of genuine connection. Henry’s flirting is subtle, a glint in his eyes and a playful quirk to his lips. It’s a dance of words that feels both exhilarating and comfortable, as if we’ve known each other for far longer than just a few hours. 

But then there’s a pause, a fleeting moment where the air between us changes. It’s as if time is holding its breath, our eyes locked, and the room is charged with a palpable tension. And then, in an instant, the atmosphere shifts again. It’s a surge, a magnetic pull that neither of us can resist and as if guided by an unseen force, we’re both leaning forwards, closing the distance between us. Our lips meet in a kiss that’s hesitant, testing the waters to see if awe are both wanting the same thing. It’s a slow exploration, a gentle press of lips that converts a shared curiosity and a mutual yearning. There’s a softness to the touch, a tentative dance that feels both intimate and tender. 

The hesitation doesn’t last long. As if a dam has been breached, the atmosphere between us surges with an irresistible pull. Henry’s lips mould against mine with more urgency, his hand finding it’s way to the curve of my cheek as if he’s trying to memorise every contour and scar. I respond in kind, my fingers threading through the soft strands of his hair, a silent invitation for him to come closer. And he does. The kiss deepening, a dance of desire and longing, a magnetic force that draws us closer until there’s hardly any space between us. 

I feel the shift as Henry’s hand traces the line of my jaw, his touch igniting sparks along my skin. And then, suddenly, the world tilts as he pushes me back onto the sofa, not dissimilar to the way I was picturing doing it to Henry. There’s a controlled urgency in his movements as he claims over me, body hovering just out of touch and the sensation is electrifying. Our lips collide once more, a collision of passion and aching want. It's a fervent dance of tongues and shared breaths that leaves me dizzy and craving more. His hands, exploratory and confident, trace the contours of my chest and shoulders. The path they leave in their wake is seared with fire, a trail of sensations that has me arching into his touch. 

As the kiss deepens, I can’t help but let my own desires take over. My hands, emboldened by need, glide down his back until they reach his waist and I pull him down to close the achingly large gap between us, drawing a whimper from me as his hips brush against mine just right. 

“Jesus, you know exactly what you want, don’t you?” Henry pants, breaking the kiss to focus his gaze on my shirt with an annoyed expression. His lean fingers with the buttons on my shirt, his touch almost impatient in it’s eagerness to explore what lies beneath. He looks breathtaking, hovering above me, honey hair mused and blue eyes glazed with want and abandon. 

I can’t stop myself reaching up and tangling my hand in those locks, grumbling, “You talk to much.” Before yanking him down into a bruising kiss. My hips raising up to meet his, causing a delicious friction that has me swallowing the sounds Henry makes, his hips rocking to meet mine. 

“Y/N, I told you not to-oh my god.” Amy is turning around and walking back outside, closing the door with a meaningful clearing of her throat. Henry is scrambling off of me and to his feet, eyes wide as if he’s realising what we’ve done and there’s a sinking feeling in my gut. I sit up, adjusting myself, the suit pants doing not much to ease he uncomfortableness and trying to make myself a little more presentable, keeping my head bowed away from his royal highness. 

“Oh no, no, no,” Henry is appearing between my legs, doing nothing to help my problem, those fantasy inducing fingers gripping my thighs higher than they should be, “Y/N Claremont-Diaz, you are a pleasure and I do hope we can see each other again. I would…” He pauses, looking up at me through hooded lashes and his right hand shifting even higher and a strangled sound escapes my throat, “I would like to see more of you.” 

“Fuck.” I’m letting my head fall back, the dull pain from the couch frame helping ease my raging erection that is currently being groped by someone I never thought. I think I get whiplash when Henry pops the button on my suit pants, “Hen- fuck… Henry, Alex is looking for me…. We don’t… we don’t have-“

“There you are Y/N!” The door bursts open and Alex stops short, eyes wide and jaw almost hitting the floor before he screeches, “HENRY?!” 

“Alex-“ 

“OF ALL PEOPLE? YOU PICK HENRY?” He’s staring bug eyed while Henry is still kneeling there, worry on his soft features. 

“Get out.” I grumble at my older brother who just rolls his eyes and focuses his gaze on a very red in the face Prince. 

“You hurt him, I hurt you.” Then Alex is gone with a half hearted slam of the door. 

I’m gripping Henry’s chin between my thumb and forefinger, guiding his gaze to mine to see the same nervousness and intensity in them. He parts his lips when my thumb ghosts over his plump bottom one and I think I die and go to heaven right then and there. 

“Where were we?’ He murmurs, guiding my hand to his hair again and yeah, I’m dead. How the fuck did I get the Prince of England to want me back in the span of four maybe five hours? I’m not gonna question it, just gonna take it as it is. 

Fuck Me.

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

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[kleftiko]

❦ HOUSE OF SILVER

cw: mature themes (paid sexual favours), implied historical violence, historical ideologies regarding sex, fem!reader

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The Edo period—the final era of feudal Japan. daimyos, samurais, and the common class, all with a purpose to help society. After her father lost his money and status when she was a child, y/n works as a maid in a teashop, following courtesans and cleaning up after their jobs. When the head of the Gojo clan comes in one night, she doesn’t expect to see him again, much less have him call on her.

The winter season is slowly creeping up. Morning air has a slight bite to it, though you don't experience it much; by morning, you're always exhausted, having cleaned rooms all night. Some were better than others; it always depends on what the customer is into.

The entertainment district always had a certain uncertainty about it. Anything was possible—anyone was possible—and people showed their true colours in the night, behind the veil of the brightly coloured lights and behind the doors of tea shops.

but that never concerns you. With winter coming up, the only thought you have is which drunk customer would drag slush onto the clean floors.

"I hope he comes again." The dreamy sigh that escaped her painted lips could only be reserved for one customer. the daimyo and head of the Gojo clan, Gojo Satoru.

Not only was it an honour to be called upon by the most powerful man around, but it also helped that he was utterly gorgeous. His beauty was spoken of like a welcomed curse—courtesans would leave his presence with a smile on their face, a haze in their eyes, and pride in their step. Though you can't imagine he's that enchanting. Women leave his presence and don't whisper a word of his doings, instead letting a sigh escape and saying something along the lines of

"you would have to be there to know."

"You really like Lord Gojo." You look over at Miwa, who brushes her hair with a gleam in her eyes.

She just hums and says, "I do."

"What's he like?" You ask your fellow maid. You had never laid eyes on him or known what his apparent beauty consisted of.

Your friend stretches out on the futon next to you. "His hair is like snow; his eyes are like the sky; he's tall; and his presence commands attention wherever he goes," Miwa continues, her voice filled with admiration. "He carries himself with grace and confidence, as if he were born to rule.”

The description she gave honestly sounded like a yokai to you, with unnatural features like a shikigami; you wouldn't be surprised if a demon were roaming around the district.

"One day, I hope he calls for me." Miwa looks toward you.

"Why?" you ask honestly.

"If I can please him, he might make me his wife," she grins.

"You, and what experience?" You almost laughed. "You really think either of us could match the expertise of the ladies here?"

Miwa scrunches up her nose, slipping under the sheets of her futon, and says,

"I definitely couldn't, but some men like the inexperience, especially if they're looking for a wife."

You join her under the covers, looking towards the closed shutters and the dawn light seeping through the cracks.

“I don't think men look for wives in a place like this." You whisper, but are only met with the even breaths of Miwa’s sleep.

An abnormal shadow crosses the shutters—a mass of something that looks like legs creeping along. You can hear the shallow tapping of the thin feet every time they touch the wooden curtain. As the figure stops, you can just barely make out the edges of the thing, which are barely expanding, as if it were a breathing being. Though you know of no such creature that takes this shape.

But you decide you have no interest in it and instead turn your back on it and close your eyes for some sleep.

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