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#is to make the fruit stand scene
kittyofinsanity · 1 year
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[enters IMGflip] [emerges 3 hours later with Goncharov (1973) and The Goncharov Trilogy book series memes] Please appreciate what I do for you with nothing more than a vague recollection from reading the books as a teenager and only recently finding out there was an entire movie made from them, apparently.
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toomanyacorns · 1 year
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"Fruit" Goncharov, 1973
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inkskinned · 24 days
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will you be enough for her, though. little slip child. you hated every time you had to scream to be heard, so you stopped screaming. it feels so fucking demeaning, 16 and shivering, saying please! father! look at me! and having him say in a minute sweetie.
online they're back to making fun of self-harm scars. isn't that funny. we have dropped the silver pretense of empathy and are walking around without any shred of humanity.
are you still shouting? how can anybody love you, then, siren. error signal. your voice so quiet and desperate. nobody is going to help you, stop begging. how can anybody actually look down at you without squashing you flat. oh, darling. you once bit into the back of your hand to stop from crying out, and discovered that it felt too dramatic for repeating.
people like you aren't supposed to cry, because you are too much. you have never meant to, but you take the air out of a room just by walking in. other people can take up room like a sunbeam. you blurt out all your wickedness in oilslicks, everyone can feel it. you slosh yourself over their hands and demand their flinch. you are a bone stuck in the throat.
be more beautiful, more perfect. if you can earn it, they won't abhor you. they might even tolerate you, if you turn the right way and never stand up straight.
but love? her life is a silver fish, a cat paw. your life is a long, thin, impossible desire - angry like a blade. your life is a crack in the floortile. you cannot bring your rotted fruit heart into the church of her hands. you will ruin her. you will overtake everything good for her.
or worse - you will have to beg her look at me. and that moment of desperation will ruin you forever. completely.
deleted scene from body's a bad monster, 9.24.2024
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Guilty || Billy the Kid x oc!reader
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Summary: For the longest time you've felt like you have always been second to your older sister, Dulcinea. That however, soon changes when an outlaw, William H. Bonney—known to many as Billy the Kid—comes to town.
Warnings: smut!
Wc: 2,930
A/n: please send through more requests for Billy please! also the smut scene is lowkey inspired by the bathroom scene in euphoria season 2 with nate and cassie....
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Divider by @pommecita
"I'm Billy. I just wanted to introduce myself," You hear a man spoke as you near the door. Your sister lets out a small scoff, "Well that is not a very good reason to ambush someone in the street," Dulcinea quipped.
"You have another motive," You hear your sister say as you press yourself against the door to listen more closely to the conversation. "I'd like to see you again," At his words, your eyes widen. Who was this mysterious man? "Why?" And there was a gap of silence.
You stepped out from your previous spot as all eyes were now on you. "Are we ready to go?" You ask your sister as she gives one final look to the man named Billy. You take your chance to look the man up and down.
He was a very good-looking cowboy. Your eyes roam around his body before you snap out of it as your name was called out, "Sofía, let's go” Billy watches you, his lips parting as he drinks in your appearance, he put two and two together and figured you were Dulcinea's sister.
You looked very similar to Dulcinea, more prettier perhaps in his opinion. Billy tips his hat slightly to you as you give him a small smile before walking towards the carriage. Dulcinea stares at you as you sit beside her, she slams the door shut and the carriage begins to move.
You couldn't help but look back to where Billy still stood. "Don't even think about it," Your sister firmly says as you roll your eyes. She was directly telling you to back off with Billy. Something that she has always done with every guy you and her have come across.
While Dulcinea was looking away, you sneaked a look and found Billy looking straight at you. Your cheeks begin to warm up as you send him a little wave to which he smiles before mounting his horse.
The next day, you decided to accompany your maid into town to buy a few things. You were secretly hoping to see that man again, Billy was his name. He looked unfamiliar to you, so you wanted to find out more about him.
"Isabel, have you heard of a Billy here?" You ask her as you inspect an apple in your hand. There was no response from the older woman. Isabel continued to look through the assortments of fruits laid out in front. "Isabel." You put the apple down as she sighs.
"Yes. I know of a Billy. And you should stay away from him, he is bad news, mi hija." She shakes her head whilst muttering incoherent words under her breath. Your eyes suddenly begin to look around, hopeful that you would get a glimpse of him. And you did.
He was across the street, tying his horse to the post. "I'll be back," You didn't bother waiting for a response before you pick up the fabrics of your dress and walk across the street.
You stop when you see your family carriage pull up in front of him, your view of him blocked. You furrow your eyes in confusion as to who else came into town. Mother and father were away and only you and Isabel left the house this morning, which meant that it was your sister.
What was she doing here? Dulcinea said she had no interest coming into town today saying she was too busy. Just as quickly as the carriage came, it quickly left. Billy's eyes were glued onto the carriage before his eyes begin to wander around, eventually landing on you.
You probably looked strange just standing in the middle of the streets, staring at him. Billy freezes slightly, his eyes looking you up and down. A smile makes it onto his face before he tips his hat at you once again.
"Sofía!" You move your attention away from Billy and see a friend of yours, Lucía, walking your direction, a huge grin plastered on her face. "What are you doing here?" She gives you a funny look as you clear your throat, your eyes flickering to where Billy was, only to find his figure disappearing into the building.
"I'm shopping, with Isabel." You give her a smile. "And where is she?" Lucía looks around as she links arms with you. "Right this way," You say as you walk with her. "Do you know of a man named Billy?" You suddenly ask her.
She would know. She knows basically everything about everyone in town. "Billy?" She says to herself, "I've heard of that name, can you tell me what he looks like?" Lucía looks at you.
"Well he's tall. Very tall. He looks like he's my sister's age. Brown hair, blue eyes and- oh- very good looking," You jokingly fan yourself as Lucía laughs, you joining along.
You stop in your tracks when you see Billy mounting his horse. You quickly nudge Lucía, "Look! There he is, that's the man I was telling you about," You cock your head over to where Billy was. Lucía's mouth hangs open, her eyes moving from him to you. "What?" You raise an eyebrow at her weird behaviour.
"You're talking about Billy? That Billy?!" Her voice begins to become louder as you slap your hand over her mouth. "Shh! He can probably hear you," You whisper yell at her as the two of you watch Billy ride off.
"So you know him?" You ask your friend as she gives you the 'really' look. "Of course I know him! Everyone in this county knows about him, except for you apparently," Lucía shakes her head. "What? Why? Who is he?"
Confusion was etched into your face as Lucía facepalms herself. "Sofía, haven't you heard of Billy the Kid? The famous outlaw that has been travelling from town to town? Surely you have heard of him, mi amiga."
Now that you thought about it, his name was familiar to you. You recall your parents talking him at home, but it never clicked in your head that that was the Billy they were talking about. "Yeah, I have," You kick a rock infront of you, your eyes watching where it lands. "Why do you wanna know about him anyways?" She asks you as you shrug.
"Dulcinea was talking to him last night, just got curious, that's all." Lucía didn’t buy it one bit but chose to leave it alone. “You’re not wrong you know,” She breaks the silence as you turn your head to her, a puzzled look on your face.
“About Billy being attractive,” She cracks a shy smile before you nudge her and the two of you start laughing out loud. “Sofía! I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Come on, hurry up.” The old woman scolds you, pushing you towards your carriage as Lucía chuckles, waving you goodbye.
~
You couldn't stop thinking about him. How could you not? The fact that he was a notorious outlaw further fueled the fire that was ablaze in the lower pit of your stomach. A sudden knock at the front door of your house made you pause your train of thoughts.
You were slightly confused at the idea of a visitor today. Mother and father were gone and you weren't expecting anyone over. You stand still in your spot before you hear footsteps leaving Dulcinea's room. Quickly walking out of your room, you grab ahold of your older sister's arm.
"Who's here?" You ask her and a smile you knew all to well crept onto her face. "Billy. Remember that guy you saw a two nights ago? I invited him over," She says nonchalantly. Your eyebrows crease in bewilderment.
"You know who exactly he is right, Dulcie?" Her nickname slips out of your mouth as she faces you front on, arms crossed. "Yes, I do, Sof," She points her chin up the tiniest bit, something she did whenever she was questioned.
"Then what the hell is he doing on our doorstep? Father would kill you if he ever found out that an outlaw stepped foot into our house-" "Which is why you will keep quiet." Dulcinea interrupts you, her tone sharp. You could see it in her eyes, rage brewing.
You loudly scoff, examining her features. "You know father would never allow it, plus, you already have someone you’re forced to marry soon," You narrow your eyes at her as she rolls hers. "Oh please, father will come around. Billy is not what people perceive him to be. I think father will like him," Is all she says as she turns around, making her way to the front door.
You exhale from your mouth before you make your way back to your room. You were dying to see Billy, but knowing Dulcinea, she would not let you be in the same room with him because you knew she liked him. And whoever Dulcinea liked, was off-limits to you, her innocent, little sister.
For the next couple of hours, you entertained yourself in your room. It was late at night when you figured that Billy had already left. You walked out of your bedroom, turning the corner before you collide with somebody.
You lose balance and readied yourself for the harsh impact but you were pulled back up by your forearms. "Fuck- I'm so sorry, sweetheart-" "It's fine. It's fine." You screw your eyes shut knowing whose voice it belonged to as you blew a loose strand of hair out of your face.
"What are you doing?" You ask him, your eyes looking around for any sign of your sister. "I- uh was 'bout to leave," Your lips form an 'o' before you slowly nod your head, silence following.
Your eyes were on everything but him. And his eyes were on you, studying your features that were similar to Dulcinea in some ways. "You're real pretty aren't cha, doll?" Your eyes snap to his after the pet name he just gave you, your mind slightly going blank before you process his comment.
"Am I?" Your voice dripped with playfulness as you tilt your head at him. You knew damn well Dulcinea could walk this way at any moment and see the two of you; she would let hell loose. "Mhm, prettier than your sister, I'd say. But don't go telling her I told you that." He winks as you furiously blush.
Your eyes falter down to your dress as you adjust the skirts of it slightly. "Y'know, I actually wanted to talk to you when I saw you in town earlier today," Billy's words make you look up at him.
"Really? Why didn't you?" You tilt your head at him as he kisses his teeth before opening his mouth, "Your sister, had me occupied for a bit and when I saw you, you were talkin' to someone else." He shrugs as you slowly nod.
"Well, I'm right here. What did you wanna talk about, Billy?" Your voice all of sudden was quiet. Billy smiled in satisfaction at his effect. "You uh- married?" He steps closer to you as he slightly cranes his neck to study your features.
You gulp. "N-no," You shake your head. He slowly nods his head, tucking his hands in his pockets. "You seein' anyone?" He asks, though his tone had a tinge of possessiveness in it. "No." Billy stares at you, his mind all over the place.
You were only 2 years younger than him but surely such a pretty, respectable, young lady like yourself would be married off to someone already, or seeing someone at least. "Good," He mutters as you couldn't help but smile. "Why's that, Mr. Bonney?" He looks around before he does something that catches you off guard. He grabbed your jaw and kisses your lips. Hard. You take a second to process what was happening.
He was kissing your so feverishly as if you were going to disappear. You stumble back at his rough force before he leads you down the hallway, his lips never leaving yours for a second. "The door on the left," You manage to say in between the kisses as he pulls you into your room.
Hands frantic, Billy skillfully undid the laces of your dress yanking it down to expose your chest as he wets his lips at the sight. He barely got your dress off before his hand grabbed your thigh and wrapped it around his waist.
He pushed you back against the door as you gasp, his mouth latching on to your nipples, your head thrown back at the sensation. Your hands toyed with Billy's hair as you tried containing your moans knowing your sister was still in the house.
"Don't keep quiet darlin'" He says against your skin before you feel him ripping your underwear. Your jaw dropped but you soon let out a loud moan as he slid into you. He groans against your neck, allowing you to adjust at the size, and when you do, he pumps into you at an almost inhumane speed.
You let out quiet moans as Billy grunts. Your hair was all messed up from being pushed up against the wooden door. "Oh my- Billy-" You breathed out, pushing him further into you with the heels of your foot around his waist.
""Fuckkk, feel so good baby" He grunts in you ear as you couldn't help but smile. A sudden knock on the door made you gasp in terror. Billy slapped his hand over your mouth at lightning speed to shut you up. "Sofía?" Dulcinea calls out from behind the door, another knock.
You stare wide eyed at Billy who quietly curses. "Sofía, are you in there?" Your sisters calls out for the second time as you panic. "Y-yeah?" Your voice was shaky. If Dulcinea found out that you fucked Billy, it would be over for you.
Although you were more free to do things than your older sister, you don't think your parents would be too happy to know their youngest daughter had sex with an outlaw, in their house. And you don't think Dulcinea would ever forgive you. She must be serious with Billy since she invited him over, something she never did with any of the previous guys.
"Why is the door lock?" The door handle rattles as you shut your eyes, feeling the tears coming. "Uh just a s-second! I'm changing!" You call out to her. Billy gently lets you down, zipping his pants as you attempt to tidy your appearance but fail miserably when the laces on your dress become tangled.
"Billy! Help me!" You whisper yell as tears were brimming your eyes. Billy's features soften when he sees you, quickly untangling the lace. In a matter of seconds, it was undone. He cupped your face in his big hands, your cheeks wet from tears.
"Shh, don't cry, sweetheart," He hushed, wiping your tears as you cover your mouth to quieten the sob that escapes. "She's my sister, she'll kill me!" Your voice was shaky as he pulls you into his chest, his hand in your hair.
"Sofía!" Dulcinea yells out, banging on the door as you flinch. You pull back from Billy as your eyes look around your room for a place to hide Billy. Settling on the panel room divider you push him behind it, "Wait here until she leaves, then you can sneak out of the window." You quickly say as he nods.
Before you turn back around, he grabs your hand. "Hey- it's okay," He assures you, his hand caressing your cheek as you slowly nod. "Finally!" Dulcinea exclaims as you didn't dare to make eye contact with her. She takes in your appearance.
"You okay? You look like you just ran a marathon," She raises an eyebrow as she touches your forehead but you pull back, a confused expression on her face.
"I'm fine, I just don't feel well." You gulp, tucking the loose strands of hair behind your ears, clearing your throat. "Right... Go tell Isabel and she'll give you something." Dulcinea says, you could tell she wasn't fully buying it.
"What did you want me for?" You finally meet her sharp eyes, "Oh. Have you seen Billy around? His horse is still outside and he was supposed to leave about an hour ago," She folds her arms, leaning against your door as her eyes wander around your room.
You clear your throat, slightly moving in front of her to block her view. "No, I haven't seen him. He probably went to take a look at the other horses in the stable," You lie through your teeth as your sister stares at you suspiciously.
"Okay," She says as you discreetly let out a sigh of relief. She gives you one final look before pushing herself off of the frame and walks down the hallway. You shut your door, locking it just as Billy comes up to you making you jump.
"I think you should go," You say to him. His hands rest on your shoulders, "I wanna see you again," He says softly, lifting your chin up to look him in the eyes. "Me too," You smile before he leans down to place a final kiss on your lips.
"What about tomorrow? Come see me in town," He suggests as you open your window. "I'd like that," You both smile at each other as he readies himself to leave. Just as he leaves through your window, he tips his hat at you. "Bye, Sofía," "Bye Billy," You chuckle lightly before he leaves and you shut your window.
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literaila · 2 months
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kitchen scene
gojo satoru x fem!reader
summary: the aftermath (and more)
warnings: if it doesn't make sense i can't help! they are their own people! they do what they want! (kissing)
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*
year four.
it's quiet, you think. but it isn't, really. 
despite the early hour, your brain has put in overtime, has woken up before your alarm, and every thought is louder than it should be. every concern, every foolish ideation, every word you need to say-- 
there's a creak in the floor, and then a yawn. "kids aren't up yet?" 
"not yet." 
satoru leans on the counter across from you, lying on it. 
you almost smile, then catch yourself. 
you snuck out of bed fifteen minutes ago--leaving him to chill to death. you weren't sure if you should stay there or not. if you should force him to say something, force yourself to say something else. 
but the ways you've communicated with satoru have always been out of the ordinary. 
always more about the unsaid, the unspoken truths, than the ones you're willing to admit. 
and you want to apologize to him for last night--for the past month, for letting any of it happen. but you don't want to break the gentle bridge between the two of you. stomp all over it before you've finished putting it together. 
and really, you just want to talk to him about nothing. you just want him there. want him to stop hiding from you. 
so, right now, you decide, you'll take whatever you can get. 
even if it's him whining on the kitchen island, long limbs almost touching the cutting board you're working on. 
then he leans up again, groaning. "is this puberty?" 
you continue to cut up the fruit you're working on but glance at him briefly, with a brow raised.  
satoru sighs, hands in waving in the air as he speaks. "'cause of the excessive sleeping and stuff. isn't that what happens?" 
"weren't you a kid at some point?" 
his voice is rough from sleep, and he's still in his clothes from yesterday. but he doesn't seem to mind that you trapped him in your room, and slept on his arm all night--till it was probably numb. 
satoru looks casual. simple and disheveled--your favorite version of him. "it's unclear," he grins at you. 
"it's only nine," you say, peeking at the clock. "and they stayed up late." 
"you let them?" satoru gasps mockingly. 
"i don't let them do anything. they're master manipulators." 
"thought we weren't supposed to name-call the children." 
"you're not," you tilt your head at him. "i can do whatever i want." 
"that's dangerous logic." 
you roll your eyes. 
"hey," he says, coming to stand right next to you. "are we feeding an army?" 
you wave your knife at him, threateningly. "you ever heard of leftovers?" 
"nope." 
"okay," you turn again. "how about leaving me alone?" 
satoru hums. "mmm, doesn't ring a bell."
"of course it doesn't," you say, sighing. 
"hey," satoru says, again. 
"what?" 
"look at me?" 
you pause, but turn slowly, meeting satoru's eyes like hitting a bullseye with an arrow. 
he's already smiling at you. he looks so boyish, so young that it makes you want to look away immediately. but you don't, because he asked. 
and he's always had some weird hold on you. 
it takes only a moment for him to tug you in by the hem of your shirt, you tripping over the two steps it takes to near him. then his arms wrap around your waist and you're really looking up at him. 
staring at him, while he stares back at you. 
"what?" you ask, softly. you swallow, trying to push down that aching feeling. you don't want that here, thank you, not right now. 
satoru breathes for a moment, checking every inch of your face, looking for something that probably isn’t there. 
then he sighs, almost reluctantly, and his lip curls. "i missed you," he admits to you, slowly. 
you can see it in his eyes--the way they flicker away for a moment, searching for something else--that it's a silly thing to admit. so stupid that satoru feels embarrassed by it. 
but your cheek twitches. "you did?" 
"mm-hmm," he tilts his head at you. "where else could i find someone obsessed with me? i don't think there's a market for that..." 
your face drops. you make a face at him, then turn, with him still wrapped around you. "hmm," you wonder, looking around. your heart beats harder when his fingers curl even deeper into your skin. "where did i put it?" 
"put what?" 
"the receipt." 
satoru is looking at you quizzically, like you've lost your mind, and you smile at him. 
"i think i want to return you," you say, with a cheeky smile. "buyer's remorse and all." 
satoru groans, but you giggle, maybe because you haven't felt like this--this content and happy--in weeks. he hasn't held you this close in so long and it just feels right. 
"are you laughing at your own joke?" he asks you, "your own bad joke?" 
"aww," you tap his nose. "it's okay, satoru. comedy is a talent, you know. it doesn’t come naturally to all.”
satoru rolls his eyes, but he doesn't say anything else, doesn't move his hands from you, or quip back. 
it’s easy to feel that hesitance—the chill in the air. the two of you are so good at letting go of things (keeping them forever), forgetting about what matters (never talking about it). but you’re not good at this. 
you’re not good at making up with satoru. at being mad at him in the first place. 
you don’t know how to… do this with him. to live with the mistakes and not regret anything you’ve said. you don’t know how to be vulnerable and pretend like it’s normal. 
and you don’t know how to love him like you do. you’re not even really sure what love is. 
but it doesn’t matter, anyway. 
none of it does. 
satoru’s mouth moves like he knows what you’re thinking—like he’s already sure of what you’re going to say next. he’s read all of your battle moves, he knows what foot you lean on before you punch. 
and he’s looking at you like you're a portrait. smiling like he's about to make a bid for you.
when he looks at you like that you forget everything that matters. 
"what?" you ask, so softly it's barely there. 
his hands are on your hips, fingers tracing the skin and bones there, mass and muscle. he's doing it on purpose, you know. trying to drive you crazy. 
satoru shakes his head, but he's still smiling. 
"no, really. what?" 
you’ll take any answer just to get over this quivering in your chest. the fear that something might happen. 
the fear that it won’t. 
"nothing," he says, and you can see his tongue. it’s pink and his teeth are white. and you’ve never missed a thing about satoru, but this seems like a new idea. 
is he a real person? is he really standing there? 
"satoru..." 
"yeah?" 
you might not be breathing. you might not be anything but mere air, something to pass right through. 
you try not to lean back from him. to run away. "nothing..." you whisper, trying to keep your cool. 
you don’t want to beg him. don’t want to push him too far. 
but it only takes a second, really. 
one moment satoru is staring at you, some crazed look in his eyes, a beautiful smile adorning his face. he's teasing you and trying to get you to break. 
trying to trick you into pulling him in yourself. trying to test the boundaries between the two of you—things that you’ve never put up. 
one moment, he’s just your too-close best friend. 
and the next moment your eyes are closed, and his lips are on yours. 
he's softer than you thought. warmer. 
satoru is on fire. you’re sure that he’s going to scar your skin, that you’re going to blister and burn into something less than ashes—still, you don’t move. 
you’ve always been too cold, you think. 
it takes no thinking, no consideration to kiss him right back. because you've done this before--in dreams and fantasies--and you know exactly how he kisses. 
like he's wanted you forever. like he's been waiting just as long for this. like he’s not afraid of anything. 
so strong and overbearing and too much— 
he's soft, and his movements are short, exact. satoru is mathematical in the way he kisses you. so very sure. 
you breathe out into his mouth, and every single moment of worrying about him, loving him from afar--it disappears. just like you knew—like he knew—it would. 
he smiles against your lips, because he’s always been able to read your mind, and you pull back. your lips hurt (they are so cold without him there, so ready for more).
his eyes are very close, blinding, and you can see the way he's looking at you now. the way his gaze changes from your eyes to your lips, the way he's breathing. 
there’s an apology on his face, a million secrets he won’t admit out loud—not yet. but you don’t care. you don’t need anything from him but this. 
your hand is on his chest so you can feel his heart, how fast it’s beating, 
yours echoes back, calling out to him. 
"satoru," you whisper, because it's the only word in your head. 
just him. 
"hmm?" he asks, nose brushing against yours. 
neither of you make any harsh movements. you don't move too quickly, don't say anything before you can think about it. and, really, you know that if you push this too far it will break--that this singular moment is so fragile. 
but it's so goddamn easy. 
and all you want to do is kiss him again. 
"why do you taste like watermelon?" 
"toothpaste is a wonderful invention..." he says, as he leans in again. 
and he kisses you. 
he kisses you slowly like he wants to savor every second. in no world would you ever push him away from this, in no world would you ever retreat once you've gotten this far. 
you can feel it as he breathes. can feel every inhale and exhale because he shares them with you. 
it’s more than sharing secrets. more than sharing your lives. 
you suddenly realize how insignificant it is to pine from afar. to love him without really understanding this. 
and maybe this means more than words can say. 
maybe that's why your hand moves to linger at the curve of his jaw, just grazing him with your fingertips, wanting to pull him closer and never touch him again. 
you know this is going to hurt. 
satoru pulls back, just so he can brush his lips against yours as he asks, "good?" 
you try to swallow, catch your breath. 
you want to smile like you've never smiled before. you want to break records, crash down walls, just to keep him right there.
what do you have to lose?
"yeah," you tell him, leaning in again. "good." 
*
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kianely · 4 months
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”YOU SEND ME RIGHT TO HEAVEN”
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i. PAIRING — Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader
ii. SYNOPSIS — Fresh out of police academy, Leon heads back to his hometown to crash with his best friend before he has to move to Raccoon City. The only problem is, you’re there too — his best friend’s sibling. He has been harboring feelings for you for years, so being under the same roof as you rekindles some emotions he wasn’t able to bury. You were in a similar position.
iii. CONTENT — MDNI, 18+, mutual feelings + confessions, fluff, kissing, making out, brief mentions of masturbation, blowjob (Leon receiving), lube, fingering (reader receiving), penetrative sex, protection, consent checks, aftercare, you just graduated college (so around same age as him), banter, he’s like the boy next door, late night car ride, he’s kinda cliche and throws a rock at your window, no mention of parents, I tried to make this more dialogue heavy woo, in Grammarly I trust, let there be no typos
iv. WC — 8.6k
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Leon drummed his fingers against the leather fabric of his steering wheel, humming along to the song playing in his car. He was excited, parked outside of his old high school’s friend house — which by extension, was your house too.
He was fresh out of police academy, a soon-to-be rookie at the Raccoon City Department. He packed some bags with enough of his belongings and drove back to his hometown, wanting to spend some time with his good and most trusted pal before he settled down in a new city and focused on his work.
He took his keys off the ignition, got off, and got his bags. His hands were full when he walked up to the front door, so he rang the doorbell with his elbow. For some reason, he felt a tad bit nervous. He’d seen your brother maybe over six months ago, but he hadn’t been inside the place in a while, maybe a few years.
When the door began to open, he was almost ready to say your brother’s name. Instead, he was greeted with a special someone he hadn’t expected to see. You.
Leon nearly dropped his bags. He hadn’t seen you in a couple of years because you decided to dorm at a university. Right. Yes. You must’ve graduated by now.
“Leon?”
God, your voice almost made his jaw slacken. He loved hearing his name come out of your lips.
He didn’t even get a chance to respond — managing to keep his ground when you stepped out to hug him. “It’s so good to see you! It’s been what, like two years already?”
“Woah — yeah, yeah…something like that. It’s really good to see you too.”
You made his heartbeat spike. Your arms around him, the way you leaned against him. Granted, he was standing somewhat stiffly because he was holding his bags. But…he couldn’t resist you — he let them drop onto the patio floor with a couple of thumps before he wrapped his arms around you. He tried to do so in the most platonic way possible, fearing he’d see the light if your brother happened to join the scene.
Leon had a thing for you. Always had. Always will.
He was too scared to do a damn thing about it, in his eyes, you were simply off limits. Like a forbidden fruit, a temptation that couldn’t be indulged in without some sacrifice.
He let his arms linger back to his sides when you pulled away, and he sucked in a breath.
“Come on in,” you flashed him that gleaming smile of yours as you reached for one of his bags to help him out. “My brother’s upstairs cleaning up his room. He said he’s setting up a bed for you…I think.”
“Yeah, he wouldn’t let me take the couch. Said he wanted me to be his roommate, so it’ll be just like old times.”
Leon was hit with a wave of nostalgia as he took a look at the interior, it looked exactly like he remembered. Not much had changed, aside from the addition of some photos, a wall-mount TV instead of a TV stand, and other small details here and there.
“You’ve changed a lot. In a good way.” You spoke up.
“Have I?”
“Yeah, I mean, just look at you.”
He looked down at himself. Shirt. Jacket. Shoes. A similar style as before. And he knew his hair wasn’t any different. What were you getting at?
He then looked back at you.
Oh.
Your eyes were practically glued to his arms. Have you always blatantly checked him out like this? Suddenly, he felt a wave of heat wash over him. The worst part is, you seemed genuinely curious — not like you were ogling him, but as if asking: Wow? Where’d those guns come from?
“It was all the drills at the police academy.” He knew that you knew that, which led him to believe that the point of your observation was to subtly compliment him. “The amount of training was pretty brutal, but I’m ready for the job.”
“I’m sure you are. I heard you graduated at the top ten percent of your class, that’s pretty cool!” You were being genuine, he could hear it in your voice since it went to a slightly higher-pitched tone.
The playful nudge you gave his shoulder made the ends of his eyes crinkle, he loved it when you did that — it reminded him of how things were back then when he visited often, the way you’d nudge him or even ruffle his hair whenever you were happy or excited over his accomplishments. It made him feel seen.
“It was nothing,” he was humble, as usual. “It has just always been my dream.”
“I know…I’m really proud of you, Leon.”
The way you attached his name to the praise just made it sound all the more personal, the tips of his ears felt like they were burning. He bashfully rubbed the nape of his neck. “Uh thanks, I really appreciate that. It means a lot coming from you.”
Leon had always been a complete sweetheart with you. He was the epitome of ‘the boy next door’. He had fond memories of trying to muster up the courage to ask you to be his Valentine’s during high school — the two of you attended the same one and were a year off from one another, so he saw you around. Again though, he didn’t want to ruin his friendship with your brother…so he never asked.
He thought about driving over to your house and throwing a pebble at your window to get your attention, and he’d be holding a bouquet in his hands. Just a daydream, but a fun one to look back on nevertheless. He always gave you presents on your birthday and Christmas, nothing too grand so he wouldn’t get your brother suspicious, but just enough so he could see you light up as you unwrapped the gift.
“Are those your graduation photos?” He took notice of some polaroids splayed out on the coffee table, ones with you with a cap and gown.
“Yeah, feel free to look at them.”
Leon wished he could’ve watched you walk the stage. Yeah, he attended your high school one, but he would’ve liked to see the college one too. Maybe he’d ask if any of your family or friends took a video later. There was a goofy grin on his face the entire time he looked through them.
He was so absorbed that he didn’t even hear the footsteps down the stairs, nor the chuckle you let out before your brother playfully pulled him into a chokehold.
“Dude, really? How are you going to be part of the force like this?”
Leon swatted your brother away with a roll of eyes, all out of love of course — he easily maneuvered out of the half-assed chokehold. “Cut me some slack, I was a little distracted.”
“Yeah, that’s kind of the problem. Don’t you have to be attentive and shit?”
That right there was your sign to leave — your brother was really close with Leon, and you wanted to give them time to catch up. After all, you’d probably be bumping into Leon a lot since he was going to be staying for a couple of days.
Leon hated the way his eyes trailed over to your form as you made your way upstairs. He’s supposed to be paying attention to your brother, so why were you clouding his thoughts? With a very small physical shake of head, he redirected his attention to your brother, nodding along as he listened in to his chit-chatter and caught up with everything that had happened in his hometown.
But in the back of his mind, he knew he was screwed.
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You wanted to bury your face against your pillow and scream. How were you supposed to act now that your high school crush was here? Your brother’s best friend. The one you had always dreamed of dating. That was a long time ago. But even in college, you always longed to see him again — to grab lunch and coffee with him and then show him around your campus with your hand in his.
Leon popped into your head whenever you dipped your hand underneath your waistband to relieve your urges. Your stomach bubbled with craving when you felt pent up late at night, even if you tried to think of someone else, Leon was always in your mind whenever you came and muffled your noises into your pillow.
No amount of people you saw in college even came close to Leon.
He had gotten so much stronger. When he hugged you earlier…you could feel his bulging biceps and noticed how much broader his shoulders were. You were sure his pecs were in solid condition too, it made you want to bury your head between them. He had always been fit, but you knew damn well you’d see a six-pack if he took off his shirt.
So for his sweet self to be just a walking distance away was pretty overwhelming. You could handle a day, maybe even two, but as far as you know, he was going to be staying longer. Not as long as a week, but still enough to have you worrying.
It had been four hours since he arrived. You could faintly hear some laughter. That wasn’t a surprise though, your brother’s room was just across the hall from yours.
That's it. No more. You were going insane.
You got up and played some music, not too loud, just enough to drown the other sounds out. It was dark outside now, you opened up the window to let some of the breeze in to ventilate your room.
It was going just fine until you fast-forward to half an hour later.
A familiar set of knocks distracts you from your worries. Wait, never mind. The one behind the knocks was the cause of your worries.
You lowered the volume of your music a bit and took a very quick look in the mirror to make sure you looked okay before opening the door.
Leon leaned against your door frame, just casually — like he didn’t know just how pretty he looked right now. In his defense, you knew he probably didn’t. He had always been a little dense about all that.
“Hey.”
“...Hey.”
His awkwardness was a part of his charm.
“Does my brother need something or?”
“Oh, no. Uh, one of his coworkers called him and I felt a bit neglected, so here I am.”
Don’t you know it? If you had a penny for the amount of times your brother had paced around the entire house getting into a heated conversation over work gossip, you’d have enough to pay off your student debt.
“Trust me, those phone calls can last hours.” You walked back to sink into your bed with a contended grunt, making a hand gesture for him to come in.
Why would you do that? Being in a closed space with him wasn’t a good idea considering all the thoughts spinning in your head.
Leon had never really entered your room, at least not for over a couple of minutes. He didn’t know where to sit despite there being many surfaces: the window seat, your desk chair, the floor, the beanbag you had, your bed, no — out of the question.
“Don’t be so stiff,” you teased, finding the way he looked a bit out of place a little cute. “Sit anywhere you like.”
He laughed before heading over to the window seat. “Just don’t want to be intrusive.”
“You? As if.”
Leon took an in-depth look around — posters of shows and bands, little collections of trinkets, old textbooks, scattered papers on your desk, diplomas and awards plastered on your wall, stickers on the cover of your laptop, a corner with some of your hobbies, a counter with your personal products. It seemed so…you. So naturally, he liked it. It was cozy.
And God, it smelled like you too. It made him dizzy. In a way, it was comforting, like the scent he’d get whenever you passed by him or when the two of you briefly hugged. Though at the same time, his mind was also pulled toward a more inappropriate direction. He’d be able to drown in your scent if you let him bury his face against the crook of your neck so he could nip at your skin and make you a purring mess in his arms.
The idea of being so physically close to you to the point your fragrance and scent rubbed off on his clothes afterward? Now that had his blood rushing straight to the gutter.
You felt nervous, aware of his moving eyes — you were glad the attention wasn’t directly on you, you tried to continue casually scrolling on your phone despite the way your heart was hammering.
“Better than my brother’s room?”
“Mm, I don’t know about that.”
“Pftt, you’re just biased.”
He didn’t have a rebuttal for that, merely shrugging as his eyes continued their exploration. Eventually, he caught sight of something familiar sitting on top of your nightstand — a set of headphones he had gifted you. He always knew how much you loved music, so he had gotten that for you a long time ago.
“You still have those?”
“Hm?” You followed his gaze, and your lips tugged into a smile as you reached over to dangle them in the air for him to see more properly. “Duh! Actually…they stopped working a couple of months back, but they lasted me a pretty long time.”
With the ice broken, Leon felt more comfortable. He went over to sit down on your bed. He wasn’t questionably close to you, but he was manspreading so his knee nearly grazed against yours.
“Is there any use in keeping a pair of broken headphones around?”
“Uh, yes.” You said matter-of-factly as you now clutched them close to your chest, looking at them almost sentimentally. “I cherish everything that you’ve given me. These bad boys aren’t seeing a trash can anytime soon.”
Cute. Cute…Cute.
“You sure you aren’t just a hoarder?”
“Rude.”
“Just a question.”
“Yeah, a rude one.”
“You’re not denying it.”
“Whatever.”
You were killing him. Leon felt his self-restraint diminish by the second. He could mess up so easily. He wanted to confess. To kiss you. Hold your hand. Plant his lips against your forehead. Rest his head against your lap and melt as you play with his hair.
He could do it, assuming you returned his feelings. He was moving to Raccoon City soon, it’s better to not have any regrets, right? He loves your brother, but at this point screw him. Leon has been pining for you for years.
He was incredibly tempted, hanging on a thin string. But he had to know one thing first. “So, are you dating anyone? There must’ve been plenty of candidates in college.”
“Nah, I dated here and there but…nothing lasted long. It’s weird, everyone was focused on something different, so nothing ever worked out.” Because none of them were him.
“What about you?”
“No one.” He replied.
Great, you were both single.
Silence. Again. This time with occasional fleeting eye contact. Leon twiddled his thumbs, his hands resting on his lap.
You purposely shifted closer to him, enough for your thigh to press up against his a little. Wow. He hadn’t expected to feel a jolt of electricity from that.
He looked over at you more clearly this time, his eyes searched yours.
You were losing your shit, drawn to his baby blue eyes. With your nearby lamp turned on, you could see the way his cheeks progressively turned rosy. Your eyes flickered to his lips. They looked soft, as if he put lip balm on consistently. Would they feel like a pillow?
He felt like he was burning, and he nervously tugged his bottom lip between his teeth.
“You know, I’ve always found you cute.” You were the one to break the silence.
“Really?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Why?”
“Your brother would kill me. Take it back.”
“My brother would kill you for something I said?” You scoffed. “You’re funny.”
“You know what I meant.”
You did.
But it hurt a little. Would Leon really hold back on his feelings all because of your brother? As far as you were concerned, your brother had never told you to not go after Leon. And if that was some sort of unspoken rule…then too bad.
Leon knew you had him wrapped around your finger, he didn’t stand a chance.
“Come on, Kennedy. You’re telling me you’ve never thought about this?”
“Well, yeah…But—“
“Just one kiss, please, Leon?”
You just had to say his name, didn’t you?
One kiss. Only one. Yeah, he could work with that. No hand holding or waist holding. Just a kiss, how bad could it be?
“Just one.” He agreed, his voice a whisper.
Leon leaned in, stopping just moments before his lips touched yours. He was nervous. If he was granted even a piece of heaven, surely he’d end up craving more. But he would deal with it. He caved.
His lips gently met yours. God, your lips felt plush. It was a simple one, ending as soon as it began. But of course, it wasn’t going to end there. The two of you were already in each other’s space. The short peck wasn’t enough.
“So, two?”
“Yeah.” You placed your hand on the side of his upper neck and caressed his cheek with your thumb.
“God…” Leon folded, leaning in once more with a suave and much longer kiss this time. His body pressed against yours a little, his body heat mixing with yours.
Just a few minutes passed, and the two of you were making out — slowly and sensually. Your tongues naturally clashed against one another, no rush or doubt, just instinct. Leon tasted good, like spearmint.
“I’ve always had a thing for you,” Leon murmured the confession out in between kisses. He didn’t want you to think he was kissing you just for the hell of it, or for mere physical attraction. You were important to him, the person who harbored his thoughts for the past years of his life.
Honestly, if you weren’t underneath him like this, you might’ve reacted more incredulously. But he was kissing you so intimately, you weren’t surprised. Even so, his sincerity was sweet.
“For how long?”
Another kiss — A pause.
“Since the day your brother introduced us.” Another one. “Six years now.”
You smiled into the kiss, and it prompted him to do so as well. But eventually, you leaned back to look at him. “For the record, I’ve always liked you too. You never made a move on me though, so I thought maybe you didn’t see me that way.”
“Please. I’ve always been crazy over you.”
“Good, that’s how I like my men. Now c’mere…”
With that, the two of you continued kissing. You could scream into your pillow later once you had the chance to process the fact the man of your dreams had just confessed to you. For now though…his taste was pretty damn distracting.
What drove Leon crazy was whenever he managed to hear some quiet noises escape from you: a discreet moan into his mouth, a gasp when he snaked his hand up and down your side, an exhale when he pulled away to kiss the corner of your lips and catch his breath. He hoped you didn’t feel the way he was beginning to get a little hard, not a full-blown boner, but…you got him riled up fairly easily.
Your fingers were threading through his hair, unintentionally ruffling it up. And you figured something out fairly soon — a gentle tug on his hair made him breathless. He liked it.
The music still softly playing in your room kept the sounds of your lips smacking and occasional chatter hidden, but eventually, your mind drifted to the reason why Leon had come into your room in the first place.
“Okay, okay.” You laughed quietly, pressing your palms flat against Leon’s chest and keeping him at a distance. “I think that’s enough…my brother’s probably done with his call by now. He probably just thinks you’re in the bathroom or something.”
Leon’s breathing was a bit heavy, his lips felt all tingly from the amount of time that they had been against yours. “I forgot about that…yeah, I should get going.”
He sat up, licking his lips as if to get more of your remaining taste. He was glad you guys had stopped there, otherwise, there’d be a bulge straining against his pants — which would be pretty damn awkward.
“You’re dangerous, y’know that?” Leon sounded amused. He stood up and went over to your mirror to fix his hair up and make himself look as if he had not just been kissing his best friend’s sibling.
“What are you gonna do about it? Handcuff me?”
“I’m not officially on the job…but I might just have to.”
“Yeah, yeah. You can talk to me about the law some other time.”
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Two days had passed since then. Leon hadn’t had many opportunities to interact with you since your brother kept taking him out of the house to stroll around the town and reminisce on memories. Even amidst a trip down memory lane, Leon couldn’t get you off his mind. The kissing, the confession, there has to be more to the story the two of you have developed.
He couldn’t sleep all night, lying on the makeshift bed your brother had prepared for him. He tossed and turned, knowing you were just down the hallway was testing his self-restraint.
The good news? Your brother was a heavy sleeper. We’re talking…he wouldn’t wake up without many nearby alarms or without a bucket of water being poured onto him.
Leon shuffled out of his makeshift bed, threw some clothes on, grabbed his keys, wallet, and phone, headed downstairs, and then made his way outside, cringing a little at the loud creak of the door. He was going to get some fresh air and go on a drive around the neighborhood, he needed to clear his head.
Walking towards his car, he looked up at the house and noticed that one room was still all lit up even in the dead of midnight. Yours. Maybe you couldn’t fall asleep either, thinking about what happened.
He shouldn’t be thinking about throwing a small pebble at your window, but he couldn’t help it. There was a lot unsaid between the two of you. So…he threw a pebble.
With a huff, you got out of your bed to investigate what had dragged your attention from your phone. It wasn’t rare for you to hear a noise outside, but to have such a distinct sound against your window? You just wanted to be safe.
Leon saw you brush your curtain to the side, looking around before peering at him.
He felt small for some reason and motioned for you to come over, he didn’t want to yell in the middle of the quiet neighborhood. Leon leaned against the side of his car as he waited for you.
His hands felt clammy.
“Hey, what are you doing out here?” You asked. “Couldn’t sleep?”
“Yeah, I needed some fresh air. Wanna go for a drive around the neighborhood?”
“You don’t even need to ask…I can finally call shotgun.”
Leon snorted at that. He had a car during high school and would occasionally give you and your brother rides, but your brother always called shotgun (obviously, since they were best friends), so you were always stuck sitting in the back and listening in to their conversations.
“Yeah, yeah.” He unlocked his car before opening the passenger seat door for you. “In you go.”
“Thanks.”
You put your seatbelt on and then looked around his car as he got in and turned on the ignition, waiting for the car to warm up.
“So,” Leon began, looking over at you with a coy smile. “About the other night…”
God, you had been dying to talk about it. In all honesty, you were internally a little bit upset that your brother had been dragging Leon out of the house, even if that was reasonable considering their friendship. But you knew that what happened wasn’t just a one-time thing, it couldn’t be, and you wouldn’t let it.
“Yeah, uh—” You met his gaze. “ I know you’re worried because of my brother and everything but I really like you, Leon. He cares about you, and he trusts you. I don’t…I don’t think he’d be upset if we ended up together.”
“Are you sure? I really like you too, I just don’t want to ruin anything.”
“Are you kidding? He’d probably be hyped about you being his future brother-in-law.”
“Already thinking about marriage, huh?”
“I—no…shut up.”
With a roll of eyes and a grin, Leon turned his attention to reversing out of the driveway since the car was all ready to go. Yeah, he looked really damn attractive while doing that, you couldn’t resist from looking at his arms. There wasn’t anything interesting to look at outside the windows anyway, you had walked and driven by all these houses practically every day.
“So, what made you like me?”
Leon hummed in thought after you asked him that, he kept his eyes on the road, trying to find a way to sum it all up.
“Well, I remember meeting you for the first time. You were breathtaking and held yourself so well, and I was just kinda standing there not knowing what to say. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you, and I remember thinking to myself: no one else has ever made me feel this way after a first impression, you must be the one. It was complicated though, I thought you were off limits, you know…that’s just friend code. And the more and more I came over, the more I fell for you. Everything about you. I just…I dunno. I like you.”
That was his short explanation, he could go ramble for hours about why he liked you, about all the little things you do and say that make him feel like a lovestruck fool.
“The feeling’s mutual…I’ve always wanted to be with you. Like, I can actually be myself and not have to force any conversation. It’s all so natural. I really missed you throughout college.”
Leon was smiling, pearly whites showing as he continued driving.
“We could’ve been high school sweethearts. Y’know…you’re the reason all my relationships failed.” You joked, though, it wasn’t far off from the truth.
“You’re seriously gonna blame me for that?”
“Yeah, you raised my standards way too much.”
“Not my fault.”
“Yeah, it is.”
“Not.”
“Is.”
“Not.”
“Is.”
“...”
Leon knew that he would never get the final word, not when it came to you. He gave you the win.
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The two of you must’ve driven around for a little over half an hour before Leon parked back onto your driveway.
“Actually, there’s something else on my mind.” You told him, taking in a breath before voicing your thoughts. “You’re moving in what…like a week? So, what does that mean for us?”
If there was one thing Leon was certain about, it was that he wasn’t letting you go. No, he’d gone six long years just pining over you and not making any moves, he’d figure something out.
“We’ll make it work.”
“But you’re going to be busy. I know how important your career is to you, what if I distract you and screw something up.”
He loved that about you, you were so damn considerate.
“Not gonna happen.” He retorted, turning off his ignition before getting out of the car — going over to your side to open it for you.
He walked side by side with you to the front door, and you were still quietly yammering about how worried you were.
“Hey,” his voice was soft as he turned to face you, he cupped his hands around your face. The caring look in his eyes could cure millions. “It’s going to be okay. We’re going to be okay.”
With that, he gently kissed you, making all your worries fade instantly. You smiled and then kissed him again, tugging on the collar of his shirt to pull him closer. When you pulled back, you laughed a little before asking:
“My room?”
“Yeah.”
The minute the two of you were inside your bedroom with the door locked, you took the initiative and pushed him onto your bed. God, you adored the way his eyes fixated on you, the way his hand reached out to squeeze your hips as you got settled on top of him and captured his lips into a kiss.
A familiar makeout session, just like last time. The two of you lost track of time. But it was different this time: more steamy, a little more fast-paced — especially with the way Leon was practically squeezing all your curves, unlike last time.
“Mm.” He moaned softly, relishing the taste of your lips. His hand slid down to your ass, kneading the flesh as his breathing grew heavier. He was hard, whimpering every single time he got any friction down there.
He let his lips trail down to your neck, squeezing you a little harder when he heard you gasp.
You just about melted, your hand instinctively going to the back of his head to keep him close — the way his teeth occasionally nipped the sensitive skin was heavenly, it made you shudder and tug on his hair.
Leon was careful to not bruise your skin, just wanting to make you feel good like you made him feel.
“Oh shit, wait.” You got off him for a second, taking a quick moment to turn on some of your music. Not so loud that it would disturb anyone, but just enough to cover up your noises. “Okay…all done.”
You then repositioned yourself again. It was getting hot in the room, your hands reached down to tug your shirt off, no use for it anymore.
Leon swallowed thickly, his eyes roaming across your torso and taking every single feature in. He couldn’t resist from letting his hand wander across your bare skin, watching as goosebumps formed from his mere touch.
“You’re…” He whispered out, looking back into your eyes. “You’re so beautiful.”
“Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself.” You said in return, a grin forming on your face. You reached your hands underneath his shirt. “Can I take yours off?”
Leon nodded mindlessly, he’d let you do just about anything to him. He was getting hot under the collar. He helped you out as you took his shirt off.
You felt a tingle shoot straight down when you saw his body. Pretty. He was pretty. You pressed your hands against his pecs before sliding them down tortuously slow to his abs. Rock hard.
“You’re so muscular now,” you let your fingers trace the lines of his abs.
“Yeah.” Leon’s voice sounded a bit strained. “Police academy will do that to you.”
“I bet.” You leaned down to kiss his torso, littering kisses all over his chest, smiling against his skin whenever you caught onto the subtle incoherent mumbles of encouragement he was voicing out.
“You know what I think?”
“Hm?”
“I think…” you trailed off, your lips reaching his stomach and your hand brushing across the tent that had formed in his pants. “You need some attention down here.”
“Mm…I think you’re right. But uh, are you sure?”
Leon was a bit worried you felt pressured into this. Yeah, it would be great to go further than kissing, but he wanted you to be completely comfortable with it.
“Yeah, I want to make you feel good, if that’s okay with you.”
“It is.”
“Okay, let’s use the traffic light system, yeah?”
“Sounds good.”
Leon was breathing heavily, eyes already lidded as he watched you pull down his fly and his jeans.
Your mouth watered, you had thought about this so many times that it was almost embarrassing. You kissed along his bulge, right through the fabric. You could’ve sworn you felt it twitch a little too.
“You’re pretty excited, I haven’t even done much.”
“Oh come on, you already know you drive me insane.”
You laughed and then tugged his boxers down.
Leon hissed, his cock now exposed to your eyes. He thought about this so many times when he tugged one out, but he never imagined he would have felt a little bit self-conscious. Like, what if you thought it was ugly or something?
Quite the contrary. You adored everything about him,
“Light?”
“Green.”
You planted a kiss against his tip, a gesture that made him chuckle breathlessly.
“Seriously?”
“What? I can’t kiss it?”
“No no, you can.”
You continued placing kisses across the length of his cock, all the way down to his balls. Leon groaned, the tips of his ears started to flush. Never in his life did he think he’d get such treatment from you.
“Now you’re just being a tease.”
You could tell he was desperate by the tone of his voice. “There’s a thing called patience, maybe you should learn it.”
He was going to counter your words, but all that left his mouth was a pitiful gasp when you started licking him. The sound went straight to the spot between your legs, you really wanted to palm yourself.
“Better?”
“Yeah…that feels really good.” He placed his hand on the back of your head, practically petting you as you flattened your tongue against the underside of his cock. He tilted his head back, jaw slackened as he took shaky and shallow breaths.
His stomach tightened up when you reached the tip, swirling your tongue around the sensitive area before finally sucking him off.
“Oh — Jesus.” He’s so sensitive, not used to having such a pretty pair of lips wrapped around his cock. In an attempt to quiet himself down, he chewed on his bottom lip, but the poor guy couldn’t contain the muffled noises that spilled instead.
You were eager to please, using a hand to stroke the base of his cock and taking the rest into your mouth. The combination had him purring, his head spinning with pure want and affection for you.
His hips involuntarily bucked, catching you off guard as his tip hit the back of your throat. His free hand bunched up the fabric of your bedsheets, he couldn’t think straight, not when you were between his legs like this.
Leon hadn’t felt this way in a while, it was overwhelming. And he could feel his abdomen growing warm. Just a little over a minute and he was already close — this was much better than all his fantasies.
“Wait…I’m almost there.“ He settled his hands on your shoulders. He made the mistake of looking down, the way you were peering at him through your lashes would drive any man insane.
Leon feebly tried to push you away. It’s not because he doesn’t want you to continue, no, he’d say the safe word if that was the case. But the idea of his cum filling your mouth…well, it made him feel a little embarrassed.
You were relentless though, taking him so well in your mouth. You were drooling by now, but that did nothing to stop you, not when you were enamored by the way Leon’s thighs were shaking. You had never been so turned on.
The moment your hand fondled his balls though, he was a goner.
“I’m—” Leon couldn’t finish his sentence, hips bucking against you and stilling as he came in your mouth. His eyes rolled back, and he bit his lip harshly to not let out a window-shattering moan.
You swallowed it all, pulling away to catch your breath and lap at his cock to take any leftovers. Leon was panting at this point, trying to recover from the orgasm you had given him.
“You must have a pretty good diet.” You really had the audacity to say that when Leon was still completely fucked out, barely even registering what you were saying.
“Uh…what—”
“Don’t worry about it.”
His cheeks were burning at what you implied: he tasted good.
Leon pawed at you, tugging you up so he could eagerly kiss you. It was sloppy and uncoordinated because of how dazed he was, but you couldn’t care less.
“You did so well,” he praised you, trying to make up for the way you rendered him speechless while sucking him off. “Better than I dreamed of.”
“Trying to flatter me, are you?”
“Oh, c’mon.” He scoffed.
He switched the positions, putting your back on the mattress and settling his hips between your thighs. He was more than ready to make you feel good too.
His hand traveled all over you, across your chest and hardened nipples, across the side of your ribs, squeezed your waist, went down to grab your ass, and then returned to your waistband, fingers tugging at your waistband.
“Can I?”
“Yeah.”
After you lifted your hips to help him take your pants and underwear off, you reached over to open the top drawer of your nightstand, pulling out a bottle of lube and a condom.
Leon was relieved you were prepared, because he certainly hadn’t packed any of that for his visit, he didn’t think this would happen.
“Here, let me…” He reached for the bottle.
He put some lube on his middle and index fingers before reaching his hand back between your legs, teasing your hole a bit before very slowly sinking them in. You inhaled sharply at the coldness of it, letting out that same breath in the form of a moan.
“Is this okay?” Leon asked you, eyes watching your facial reactions to make sure the motion of his fingers weren’t causing you any discomfort. He was a little insecure of them, his training had roughened them up a bit.
“Mhm. Keep going.”
He did just that, continuing to dip them in until you eased up and they fit inside nice and snug.
He looked back down, letting out a quiet ‘oh fuck’ when you started bucking your hips up to meet his touch. God, he was so horny even after his climax, his cock beginning to harden up again.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” he muttered, fingering you at a gentle pace, he swallowed the saliva that built up in his mouth at the thought of being inside you.
“I can, I think we’re made for each other.”
The way you managed a smile while letting out the prettiest noises stirred up many emotions in him. He liked the vulnerability of this moment, just two people who liked each other being intimate and connecting.
“Well, I do too. Just…I dunno.” He fell silent, his gaze returning to your face and watching as it contorted into one of pleasure when he angled and curled his fingers just right.
“Right there?”
You nodded, reaching your hand down to hover it over the one he was using. “Yeah. Fuck…just like that.”
The wet sounds of his slick fingers sliding in and out of you were driving him insane, and a string of curse words left his lips. “You sound so good.”
Each flick of his wrist had you squirming around, your bed sheets wrinkling and getting all messed up. Some of the lube spilled down your thighs, you’d need to wash your sheets after this.
Leon kept going until you came, feeling his cock come fully to life at the way you moaned and spilled his name.
“Leon…” Your fingers dug into his forearms, feeling his muscles flex as he coaxed you through your orgasm. His eyes were glued to your face, biting his lip at the way your pretty eyes rolled back. He pulled his fingers out when your legs closed together in response to the overwhelming presence.
“Holy shit,” you sighed when you regained your senses, eyes fluttering open to meet his.
His lips tugged into a smile, he looked pretty proud of himself. “Felt good?”
“Better than good, but…”
“But?”
“I want more.”
“More as in…?”
Could he be more dense?
“I want you inside me.”
“Oh. Right.”
His cheeks turned red, well, redder than they already were. He ran a hand through his hair and nodded. “Do you wanna be on top or?”
You gave it some thought, reaching over for the unopened condom — there was time for both, but to start, you wanted to ride him.
“I’ll be on top.”
With the repositions all done, you straddled his hips, tearing open the condom packet. Your heart was hammering like crazy, one of your dreams was about to come true. It wasn’t just about sexual pleasure, this was the man you had liked for literal years.
Leon noticed that you seemed to be pensive while putting the condom on him. His hands settled on your hips, thumbs rubbing about the flesh.
“What are you thinking about? Talk to me.”
His caring voice pulled you from your thoughts, you shook your head and smiled.
“Just about how long I’ve wanted this. You know, being with you. I’m really happy.”
God, he adored you. “Me too.”
You aligned yourself with his cock, “Ready?”
“Yeah.”
You curled your fingers around the base of his cock to keep it stable before slowly sinking onto him. You felt the air escape from your lungs. Your jaw slackened and you let out a silent moan until you took all of him in.
“You’re going to be the death of me…” Leon gritted out. “Fuck, I didn’t think it would feel this good. You okay?”
You nodded, feeling full, the curve of your ass was against his balls. “Yeah, I think the foreplay really helped. I’m gonna start moving now.”
You put your hands against his chest and began riding him. Leon groaned in pleasure, his hands kneading your ass and helping you roll your hips. He felt bad that his fingers were digging into your skin but he couldn’t help it.
“Ah…Leon.”
Your mewls made his cock twitch inside you, his eyes rolled to the back of his skull.
He looked so pretty underneath you — his hair splayed out, a thin layer of sweat over his muscular torso, the baby blue part of his eyes almost covered now by his dilated pupils. So pretty.
Leon couldn’t take his eyes off you, not even if they threatened to shut from the way you were working him. No, they were all over you — watching the way your eyebrows were furrowed, the heave of your chest from your inconsistent breathing, how your eyes seemed glossy whenever they met his.
He reached his hand over to your chest, fingers gently pulling at one of your nipples. God, you rutted against him a bit faster at that, making him hiss and trash his head against your pillows. “Jesus…”
“Come on, say my name instead. I’m tired of hearing his.”
He laughed at that, wondering how you could even think of that at this moment. Because personally? He couldn’t come up with any banter, not with the way you were on top of him, turning a fantasy of his into a reality.
“Mm, just like that…it’s yours, all yours. I’m yours.”
Did he know how hot that was? You practically groaned just by hearing him say that. Leon thrust up to meet your hips, not missing the hiccup of your breath or the way your body almost gave out from the abrupt movement.
Honestly…having you underneath him didn’t sound all that bad right now. “Wanna switch?”
You paused your movements and nodded, happy that he asked — being on top was pretty tiring, and you knew he had the strength for it. You pulled yourself off his cock, you weren’t all that sure what he had in mind but you were eager nonetheless.
“Go for it.”
“Okay, just…” He gently maneuvered you to your back with ease. “There.”
“Show me that stamina of yours.”
He rolled his eyes, knowing you were referencing his training. “That’s going to be a little tough with you underneath me.”
He sat back on his knees and stroked himself, his eyes raking your form.
Watching him jerk himself off was hot, you could watch it all night…but, there’s always a next time. Right now? All you wanted was the intimacy of having him inside you again.
Leon bit his lip as he rubbed the head of his cock against your hole, he looked back up at you, he knew there was no way in hell he would last long. But he wasn’t embarrassed over it, he’d been waiting years, it was only natural.
Leon reached to hold one of your hands, keeping his other one on his cock to guide himself in. He took a deep breath, his stomach muscles clenching a little as he managed to get the tip in. “God…I’m definitely not gonna last in this position.”
“You’re not evenfully in yet.” You were breathless though, mind swirling at just the tip. You tried to steady your breathing and relax so he could fit without difficulty.
He laughed at that. “Yeah, yeah.”
A synchronous moan left both of you when he eventually bottomed out against you, taking a moment to get used to the feeling. He leaned down to kiss you, his hair dangling and brushing against your forehead in the process.
He hoisted your ankles over his shoulder and planted his hands beside your head, practically folding your knees to your chest. He didn’t miss the way he got hit with some of your usual fragrance, clearly, you had put some on either the back of your knees or your ankles…he wasn’t sure which one.
“Were you…anticipating this?”
“...What?” You sounded so fucked out and he wanted to laugh.
He chuckled. “Nothing.”
He chose to keep his newfound knowledge to himself for now. He kissed your somewhat sweaty forehead before starting a rhythm with his hips. Your walls were squeezing him, making him a panting mess against the shell of your ear.
You ran your fingers through his hair, tugging and pulling at it whenever one of his thrusts hit deeper than the others.
His hand found your free one, interlacing his fingers with yours. He sighed contentedly at the way you immediately squeezed his hand. He liked this, being close to you.
“Leon…” You moaned his name out, making a jolt of electricity shoot straight through all his nerves. His thrusts got faster, the sound of skin-to-skin contact intermingling with the light music playing in your room.
“Feeling good? Yeah, you’re taking it so well…I’m gonna be thinking about this for months.” He murmured the praise against your skin, kissing your ear before making his way down your neck.
Your reaction was immediate, clenching down on him and gasping, nails digging into his scalp. Hearing such praise come from Leon? God, it drove you insane.
Leon grunted, leaving open-mouthed kisses against your neck like a starved man. He could tell you were close, and he wanted to bring you over the edge of ecstasy — to coax an orgasm out of you before he spilled into his condom.
“I’m close…” you mumbled out, your eyes fluttering shut as you gave into the feeling, Leon was taking the lead, you didn’t have to worry about a single thing.
“I know,” he met your lips for a kiss, grunting and whimpering into your mouth with each snap of his hips. “Me too.”
He kept his pace the same, knowing it was getting you to approach your climax.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” his words were quiet, a little high pitched too, he could feel you holding his hand so tight that your fingers were leaving indents against the back of it.
“Please,” Leon pleaded. “Come on my cock…I need it.”
Your body started feeling tingly, your back arching and your hips trying to buck against him in pursuit of the feeling. You were right there.
“Leon! Leon…” Your head tipped back into your pillow. “I’m coming.”
He felt you squeeze him, your body trembling and twitching against him as he continued thrusting against you in your moment of bliss. But he didn’t last either, hips stuttering when he came inside the condom, feeling his cock get all warm from it.
“Oh…” Leon let out a guttural groan, followed by some whimpers of your name as he stilled inside you — slumping his body against yours, burying his head against your shoulder, and sloppily kissing the area.
The two of you stayed like that until you recomposed yourselves, your breathing pattern returning to normal. Leon mustered up the strength to prop himself back up, pulling out of you with a with a small whimper.
“Hey,” he whispered, a grin on his face as he kissed your cheek.
“Hey yourself.” You told him back, watching as he got up with a noise of complaint to take off the condom and throw it into the trash can.
“Come back here,” you laughed out, extending your arms for him.
“I am, I just didn’t wanna make a mess on your bed.” He came back over, laying down on his side and pulling you close.
“You already did, doofus.”
You turned to your side too. You could deal with the mess on your bedsheets later.
Leon held you close, slowly running his fingertips along your spine, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He kissed the top of your head and stayed like that for a few minutes. Just in each other's arms — letting your bodies calm down after the rush of pleasure and overwhelming emotion.
Leon’s body felt warm to the touch, he would make a really good blanket, a personal heater. You rubbed your hands across his shoulder blades, occasionally letting your nails scratch the skin lightly.
“How are you feeling?” Leon asked, reaching a hand to cup the side of your face, rubbing his thumb against your cheekbone.
“I feel really good,” you murmured, a lazy smile on your face, still feeling a rush of affection for him after the moment ended. “Everything about this feels perfect, I am a little sleepy though. You?”
“Same here.” He returned the sentiment, internally giddy about how everything had unfolded in the last few days. He couldn’t resist kissing you — just a sweet and simple one before pulling back.
“Need anything? A cup of water or something?”
Now that you think about it, your mouth feels kinda dry.
“Maybe a glass of water?”
“Mm,” Leon nodded. “Got it, I’ll be back.”
He kissed your forehead and then got up, putting on his boxers and pants (despite how uncomfortably sticky it felt) and quietly headed downstairs to grab two glasses of water and a small snack too — he knew his way around the house, so it was no big deal.
You wanted his body warmth again, rolling over to the side of the bed that he had been on to feel it once more.
Eventually, you heard the door creak open — revealing Leon, who had a sweet smile on his face as he shut it. He set down a bowl of fruit on your nightstand and then sat on your bed, handing you the glass of water you requested
“Miss me?” You asked, teasingly. You sat up.
“Oh yeah, big time.”
He laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling. He brought his cup of water to his lips, letting out a refreshed sigh after taking some gulps. You had him moaning and panting so much that he was sure his lips would get all chapped.
Leon gently coaxed your legs over his extended ones, caressing them.
“So…” Leon cleared his throat, “I never properly asked.”
“Asked what?”
He had a hopeful look in his eyes, a goofy grin on his face as he asked:
“Can I be your boyfriend?”
928 notes · View notes
cherryredstars · 14 days
Note
parent!reader waking up one day, entering the kitchen and seeing dad!miguel taking care of their 6 month old baby while he fixes breakfast for the two of them because he didn’t want to wake them up so they could get some rest, and then just absolutely getting the worst baby fever known to man, because why wouldn’t you if that’s what you were waking up to every day 🤭🤭 that is all
(also thank you for all your hard work, you are single-handedly sustaining me and I need you to know that 🥹❤️)
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Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x gn!reader
Warnings: Fluff, Mentions of Wanting More Children
Summary: Early mornings with baby babbling and chocolate chips.
A/N: This request is so cutesy!!! Thank you for sending it in, love!!
Word Count: 930
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Why is it so bright?
A deep groan leaves your lips as your eyes squint against the beam of sunlight coming through your window. You sigh deeply as you turn over, grumbling into your pillow and closing your eyes again. You can feel your body beginning to melt back into the mattress when you hear something clatter to the ground. On instinct, your arms push your body up as alarms start ringing in your head. Your head feels woozy from home quickly you moved, but your eyes are frantic as you look around the room. The nerve-endings firing throughout your body calm within the next second, the sound of watery baby laughter filling your room from outside. A smile forms on your face when hurried hushing follows, which only makes the laughter louder.
Slower this time, you push yourself up and out of bed. You shiver the moment your feet hit the cold wood flooring, letting out a breath. For a moment you debate on making the bed, but the sound of pans and baby clapping convinces you to save it for later. You walk towards the bedroom door, and the second you open it the smell of batter hits you. Your stomach growls in response, saliva gathering in your mouth as you open the door further and walk out and into the hallway. The further down you walk, the closer the sound of kitchen clutter and baby babbling becomes.
The moment you emerge from the hallway, you can feel the way your heart expands. You lean against the entrance, crossing your arms with a smile on your face as you take in the sight. Your baby girl babbles nonsense to her dad, kicking in her highchair with half-eaten mini chocolate chip pancakes on her tray. On the floor is a missed spot of syrup, and guessing by the discarded baby bowl on the counter, the noise from before was her playing around. Your husband stands at the stove, a mess of pancake batter, fruits, and chocolate on the counter besides him. You don't know why the man needs so many butter knives and bowls to make pancakes, but you let him do his thing since he's the one cleaning them. He responds to your baby with oh's and aw's, pouring batter into the pan and flipping it with a spatula after a few minutes.
You're content to watch the scene forever, but your baby has other plans. Sensing your presence, your baby turns to you, her already there smile growing larger at the sight of you. Her hands slap down on her tray in excitement, happy babbles leaving her. You can't help but laugh, making your way over to her and picking her up the moment she makes grabby hands at you. Her hands are slightly sticky from syrup, but you've grown used to it, already knowing you'll be showering later. Her hands come to your face, cupping each of your cheeks as she gives you a smile. You smile back, giving her a surprised face before laughing at her elated reaction.
Her eyes shift slightly away from your face, moving to something behind you. It's the only warning you get before large arms wrap around your waist. Messy curls brush against your chin as warm breath fans your neck. A soft kiss is placed on your skin and pleasant shivers run up your spine. You turn your head and smile at the sight of Miguel.
"Hey, handsome," you greet, adjusting your baby on your hip so you can run a hand through Miguel's hair. He hums against your skin, placing one last kiss before pulling his head away from your neck.
"We didn't wake you, did we?" He asks softly, his arms unraveling around your waist until his hands are planted on your hips. You shake your head, turning back to your daughter and blowing a raspberry against her cheek. She lights up at the action, babbling and trying to replicate the noise. It causes both you and Miguel to chuckle, and you melt into his chest.
Miguel has a large smile on his face when you turn to him, love clearly shining in his eyes. When he looks down at you, that look on his face softens. He leans down and you smile against his lips when he kisses you. Even after having a kid together and being in a relationship with him for so long, you can feel the butterflies pinging against the lining of your stomach.
"Thank you for making breakfast."
Miguel smiles back, shrugging. He reaches his arm out, taking hold of the corner of your darling girl's bib and wiping away a bit of drool running from her mouth. "Anything for the two of you."
You don't think your heart has ever been more full. You turn to him, opening your mouth to say something when you pause. Your brows furrow as you sniff the air. "I think... your pancakes are burning."
Miguel eyes widen and he curses, ignoring your scandalized gasp and reminder that the baby is present as he rushes to the stove. Your baby simply laughs at her father, clapping her hands. You can't help but join in, shaking your head as you watch Miguel scrape burnt pancake batter off the bottom of the pan. He throws you both a playful glare, sticking his tongue out for his daughter's amusement.
As you take in the scene, you can't help but think that you wouldn't mind expanding your little family. Maybe your heart has a little room left to be filled.
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2-dsimp · 17 days
Text
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Yandere hitman squad
Introducing the Boss
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Yandere Boss who’s known as a lazy sleezebag that makes the squad carry more weight than needed. He can never be bothered to do anything that he deems as tiresome and is often just chilling in the background. However, when it comes time to flip his ON switch that’s when he truly starts making boss moves.
Yandere Boss is a closeted Otaku of anime. Having shelves upon shelves of figurines, mangas, and unopened collector items. As well as walls covered in iconic wall tapestries of his favorite characters. Along with a secret closet filled with cosplay costumes that’s yet to be touched.
Yandere Boss that happens to go to AnimeCon one day in a shady disguise silently admiring the authentic cosplays and merch. Until something caught his eye which was you in the most glamorous mouth watering homemade cosplay that left him gasping for breath and leaning up against the wall as he tried to calm his pounding heart from how fantastic you looked.
Yandere Boss who immediately became a fan. Lacking the drive to part the Red Sea of cosplayers flocking to you like a bunch of fruit flies he settled for admiring you from afar following your every move from a short distance as he began snapping photo after photo, and even taking videos of his newfound cosplayer crush that he’s becoming absolutely obsessed with like it was love at first sight.
Yandere Boss who gripped his phone screen so tightly that it cracked from him spotting two losers harassing you now that you were in a somewhat secluded area. With a long drawn out raspy sigh he retreated from the wall’s corner and came out the shadows behind you.
Yandere Boss that tentatively slithered his lean arm around your shoulder towering over you with his tall lanky frame. Peering down at the two creeps with a deadpanned expression like they were nothing but sad insects as he taunted them with an disgusted sneer. Insulting the two harassers, his sharp tongue automatically cursing them out calling them gross dickless losers and disgraces to the anime community all in one. While flipping them a slender manicured middle finger painted black as he told them to fuck off since you were taken by him.
Yandere Boss who purposely made a whole scene causing everybody to collectively to look his way and ridicule the two offenders despite his inclination to being under the attention of the masses as he was doing this all for his lovely little cosplayer. He had a look of smugness on his face, seeing the two fools be escorted out by the security for trying to commit disrespectful acts at the convention. But in the end he got a tad overwhelmed from the attention thrown his way and began sweating a bit under the pressure.
Yandere Boss who couldn’t help but feel his social battery burning out at a fast paste due to the cheers of the crowd awarding his smartarian actions when to be honest he was just acting out on his own selfish impulses since he couldn’t stand those filthy losers touching his newfound idol he was going to worship for the rest of his days.
Yandere Boss who damn neared almost suffered a heart attack when his sweet idol saw his dilemma and guided him swiftly away from the crowd that chanting how much of a chad he was. Grasping onto the arm he slung over their shoulder with their soft hands. He couldn’t help but become stiff like a robot as his face flushed his natural tired aloof features with splotches of a rosy red on his pale skin.
Yandere Boss who’s lungs got caught in his throat as you spoke to him with your adorable voice continuously thanking him. He watched you intently as you paused for a moment to ask if you could give him a hug noticing how antsy he was with the the attention that was focused on him. Saying no words he opened his arms invitingly tired eyes now sparkling full of life as if he’d just received enlightenment from god while he nodded frantically to the point where afterimages of his bobbing head could be seen in 3 different layers.
Yandere Boss who fist pumped himself in victory after you gave him your number and left the scene. He was feeling faint with a rush of endorphins flooding his senses from the interaction. Relishing in your sweet scent that covered his clothes, he vowed in his head that he’d never ever wash these clothes that were touched by his adoring idol. He was already picturing them framed up in his closet to commemorate this beautiful moment in his life.
Yandere Boss who’s your number one fan and supporter for life, and will always be sure to disregard his duties if only to fawn over you like the crazed fan that he is.
470 notes · View notes
skylarsblue · 1 year
Text
I still have more. More Incorrect Quotes.
(Accidentally had a lot more fem!Y/N than intended but it's overall GN!) Alex: What made you think you’d be good for the military? Y/N: I worked at a Waffle House in America. Alex: Ah, alright, that makes sense.
-- (Interrogating Valeria)
Y/N: Look, Gaz, you know me. I can't- I can't do it. Gaz: Why not? Why can't you interrogate her? Y/N: Because I'm a bisexual with mommy issues, Gaz. And she's as pretty as she is scary. I'm already not that intimidating, she'll laugh at me when I start stuttering and then I'll just be horny. It can't be me. Gaz: ....okay, I'll ask Alejandro-
-- Y/N: I just realized something...I had a bad childhood. Gaz: Yeah we know. Y/N: What do you mean you know? Soap: Look at how you stand! People who had good childhoods don't stand like that. Y/N: How do I stand?! Gaz: Like Ghost. Ghost: ...I don't appreciate the call out but fair-
-- Price: Where are you going?! Y/N: To either get ice cream or commit a felony, I'll decide in the car!
-- Ghost after watching Fem!Y/N do an incredibly risky move: I just...Is she blind?? Suffering some form of brain damage?
-- (Tw; Hollywood Undead unalive song)
Y/N: My legs are dangling off the edge, the bottom of the bottle is my only friend, I think I'll sli- Price: EXCUSE ME?! WHAT ARE YOU ON ABOUT?? Y/N: Wh- No Captain, it's just a so- Price: GHOST GET THE BASE PSYCH ON THE PHONE Y/N: CAPTAIN IT'S A SONG I'M FINE- Well I'm not bUT NO WAIT HANG ON-
-- Valeria: *screaming in spanish* Y/N: ... Gaz: Don't. Y/N, blushing: I'm trying-
-- (During movie night; watching Venom)
Y/N: *pauses on that scene where Venoms sticks his tongue out at the guy in the street* ....Hear me out- Gaz: NO! NO. Y/N: NO NO LISTEN, LISTEN- Soap: Let them speak. Gaz: Don't encourage this! Y/N, pointing at the screen: LOOK AT IT! LOOK! Objectively you have to understand- Gaz: NOOO, it eats people! Soap: THAT TONGUE IS THREE FEET LONG AT LEAST! Gaz: No, I will not be hearing anyone out! I- GHOST, Ghost, back me up. Tell them they shouldn't want to fuck the ALIEN. Ghost, looking at the screen: Ethically, it's wrong. Gaz: Thank you. Ghost: ...objectively- Y/N: AHA! SEE?!
-- Ghost: *bends over* Y/N: *silently flips out* Soap, quietly: Wh-what? What are you-?! Y/N: SHHH *grabs Soap's jaw and turns him to look* Soap: *slack jaw* Damn- Y/N: fuckingdamnindeed- Ghost: *turns around* Soap: So it's your turn to pick dinner, what're you thinking? Y/N: Oh I dunno, maybe something pork related, uh, or cake- Soap: Aha, yeah...cake. Ghost: ....??
--
Fem!Y/N: I am not the mom of 141, that's ridiculous. Someone: You make all of them lunch every day with fruit cut into shapes, IN PERSONALIZED LUNCH BOXES Fem!Y/N: They need nutrition! Someone: You color code their items- Fem!Y/N: Look, if you were there for the item mix-ups you'd understand. Someone: YOU ARE LITERALLY FOLDING AND LABELLING THEIR LAUNDRY WITH A SHARPIE ON THE TAGS. Fem!Y/N: *holding Simon's skull boxers, writing his name on the tag* That- ...oh my god I'm the mom.
-- Ghost, watching Soap run past: WHAT DO YOU HAVE?! Soap, grinning & sprinting: A FUCKIN' BOMB Ghost: NO!!!
-- Price: Y/N, this is Lieutenant Riley, you can call him Ghost. Ghost: Y/N, looking him up and down: ...you got daddy issues? Ghost: ....maybe Y/N: Cool, same. Pleasure to meet'cha, sorry life gave you shit. Ghost, shaking their hand: Ditto. Price: *concerned sigh*
-- Price, walking into the common area at 10 pm: What in the world- Gaz, Soap, and Y/N: *all in there pyjamas with face masks on, eating snacks* Y/N: *slowly keeps chewing* Gaz: ...heeeyy siiirr... Price: It was lights out an hour ago, what are you lot doing? Soap: *slowly raises another face mask* ....Self care, sir? Price: ... Ghost, walking in at midnight for water: ....what. Soap, Gaz, Price, and Y/N: *stop gossiping* Gaz: ....hey. Soap: Evenin' L.T. Y/N: Howdy. Ghost: *looks at Price with a face mask on* Ghost: ...*sighs and sits down* Pass the Goldfish. Soap: Yeaaaah, good man! Welcome to the party!
-- Shepard: Is anyone here straight?! Price: ...*hesitantly raises hand* Laswell: *pushes his hand back down*
-- Valeria: *angry ranting* Y/N, a captive: Stop being so mean to me or I swear to god I'm gonna fall in love with you!
-- Ghost: What in the hell are you doing? Y/N: Laying in the rain. Ghost: Why? Y/N: If I lay here long enough, it feels like it washes the sad away. So I'm gonna lay here until the sad is gone. Ghost: You'll get sick. Y/N: Better sick than sad, sir. Ghost: ...*looks at the sky, back down, sighs* Ghost: *lays down on the tarmac* Y/N: Got a lot of sad? Ghost: ...Yeah. Y/N: If the rain doesn't take care of it, let's trade sads. Then it'll at least be a different kind of sad. Ghost: Not sure you want my sad. Y/N: Maybe not, but I don't think you should have to handle your sad alone either. Ghost: ...alright. Y/N: Cool.
-- Price: Simon, it's three o' clock in the morning. Why on earth are you making chocolate pudding? Ghost: Because I've lost control of my life.
-- Soap, with a gunshot wound: Do I regret it? Yes. Will I do it again? Most likely.
-- Y/N after doing something so badass it would fit in a movie: ...DID EVERYONE SEE THAT?? CAUSE I WILL NOT BE DOING IT AGAIN.
-- Ghost: You kidnapped the prime minister's daughter? That's illegal! Soap: Okay, Ghost, but what's more illegal? Briefly inconveniencing the prime minister's daughter, or destroying 141? Ghost: KIDNAPPING THE PRIME MINISTER'S DAUGHTER, JOHNNY! Fem!Y/N: Do you guys have like, a water or something? Snack maybe? No?
-- Y/N: I think there's been some confusion. I'm not the one in trouble here. Enemy Soldier: ...What? Y/N: There are only four of you. You'll need more than that. Gaz, hearing it over the intercom: ...they're gonna whoop-ass but we should probably go help them.
-- Someone: Why are you doing their straps for them? Price: They don't like velcro. Someone: Just do it yourself! Y/N: I'm not touching that stuff! I'll get neurotypical cooties.
-- Y/N, high on painkillers: If yo leg get cut off, would it hurt? Soap, in a hospital bed beside them: ...DUH Y/N: How though? Soap: Cause your leg got cut off! Y/N: Where you gonna feel the pain? Soap: In your le.... Y/N: Exactly bro! How you gonna feel the pain in yo leg if- Both: If your leg is gone! Soap: Whoooaaa... Y/N: Bro I swear, we're geniuses. Ghost, on his last brain cell: Fuckin'ell.
-- Ghost, about to lose his shit: Dear lord, I know we haven't spoken in a long time but if you could give me a little patience-
-- Gaz: Do you believe in God? Y/N: ...Yes & no. Gaz: Yes & No? What do you mean? Y/N: I believe there is a higher power, I believe a God exists. But...believing in God? Now that...haven't done that in a long time.
--
Gaz & Y/N: *dancing* Ghost: Can you two be serious for five seconds? Gaz, bustin' a move: Dunno sir, can you have fun for five seconds? Y/N: *stops and looks at Gaz* Gaz: *stops and is filled with instant regret* ...uh, sir, I- Ghost: Tell you what. I'll give you five seconds...to start running- Gaz: *turns to run and sees Y/N already yards away* YOU LEFT ME?! Y/N: I WANNA LIVE!!!!
-- Ghost: What are they doing? Price: Arguing in morse code. Soap: - .... .- - .----. ... / .-- .... -.-- / -.-- --- ..- .-. / ... .... --- . ... / .-. .- --. --. . -.. -.-- Gaz: -.-- .- / -- --- -- -- .- Soap: YOU FUCKIN' TAKE THAT BACK-
-- Soap: Keep your eyes closed, I have a surpriiisee!~ Ghost: You did your paperwork? Soap: I said surprise, not miracle.
-- Y/N, on tiktok: FOR ALL YOU NASTY ASSES IN MY DMS- *shows the team* THIS IS MY TEAM. STOP SENDING MY DICK PICS OR I WILL SEND THEM AFTER Y'ALL. Ghost: You've been getting dick pics? Soap: Who the hell's been harassing you online?! Y/N: SEE?? THEY'LL WHOOP YA ASS, SO LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!
-- Y/N, on tiktok again: Alright, backfired on me. For all of y'all who are now trying to be nasty by THIRSTING for my teammates, uh, no. Stop askin' for my Captain's marital status, I'm not gonna tell you. No you may not get my teammate's dicks, I will not be giving you their social media, stOP ASKING I KNOW THEY'RE HOT BUT NO-
-- (I've fallen down the rabbit hole of Karen compilations, so, that's why I thought of this)
Y/N: Goodbye sir! Male Karen: Fuck you bitch! Go suck off your captain you fuckin' whore!! Y/N: Sure, I'll do that, goodbye! Male Karen: Suck my dick, whore! Y/N: Can't! It's too full of military dick, you'll need to make an appointment, GOODBYE!! Soap: *wheeze* Gaz: Jesus. Christ. Ghost: I told you all America is shit.
(Bonus Note cause I can't put in anywhere else; on the topic of Venom + C.o.D. I know we have Soap in place of Eddie & Ghost in place of Venom, but hear me out. Y/N! being Ghost's host and Johnny being a third part. P o l y ! A u !)
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ode2rin · 8 months
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if his tendency to spend all of his money on you (not that any purchase could make a dent in his massive empire) wasn't annoying enough, reo had developed another endearing yet infuriating habit—one that left you torn between feeling adored and wanting to throw the nearest pillow at his face.
said man is currently in the kitchen with you, attempting (albeit with some struggle) to be useful by following your every move. tired of his constant hovering, you assigned him a simple task to keep him busy: taking out the groceries from the paper bags.
here came his habit again. the first time he did it, you brushed it off, assuming he hadn't heard you well due to the distance. the second time, you noticed his subtle perks and pouts. now, for the third time, you were determined to catch him.
“reo…” from where you’re standing, you could see how he perks up at your call, “can you pass me the apple?”
silence. 
you’re right. you tried again, just to be sure.
“reo.”
another beat of silence. this one followed by an affectionate sigh and a wry smile on your face.
“love, can you pass me the —”
“here.” 
almost instantly, reo materialized beside you, a beaming smile adorning his face, looking at you like his gaze meant to say, ‘yes. i am love, that’s me.’ he extended the requested fruit with a graceful motion, his fingers gentle as he offered it to you.
this man, really. “so, you can hear me properly after all, huh?”
“yeah? my hearing is fine.” 
“oh, is it? i couldn’t tell because i called you twice, and you weren’t responding. why is that?” you teased, a fond smile gracing your lips as you start slicing the apple you washed.
he pouts, his go-to theatrical gesture that's hard to ignore. “you know why,” he mumbles.
of course, you do. you had used that endearment once, and now, suddenly he insists on being called by nothing else. it had been a slip of your tongue, a phrase that felt like it was custom-made for him and him alone. looking at how his smile nearly outshines the sun when you address him as such, you can't help but consider that maybe love—both the word and the emotion it embodies—is all about him, for you.
you love that smile more than anything, so if it means a simple endearment could paint it on his face, you're happy to oblige. well, not without a few playful teases first.
“what if i’m on the brink of danger — like a crocodile is chasing me, and i’m about to die, and i call out your name like ‘reo!’ are you still going to ignore me? because i didn't call you love?” you turn to face reo briefly, then return to your task of slicing apples, the motion fluid and familiar. 
it's always been the scene – you doing kitchen work and him watching you, because your boyfriend is a little helpless when it comes to knives, pans, and a stove. or in simpler words, anything to do with what a kitchen is for.
“first of all, that's an incredible imagination and such a realistic situation, given that we live in a city far from any vicinity of swamps, marshlands, brackish waters, and wherever the hell crocodiles live,” reo counters, his voice amused and suddenly defensive. 
as he was about to start explaining his second point, you interrupt by placing a sliced apple into his mouth, a light-hearted gesture of “shush” as you hear him out.
but reo is not reo if not stubborn, so even with a muffled voice, he continues. “second, is that what you think of me? you know i will come flying to you!” now, that’s an honest and valid point.
“and lastly, you call everyone a cute pet name. last week, you called a kid sweetie. yesterday, you called a stray cat darling and lovely. then you’re here calling me reo? just reo?” his tone is laced with disbelief, his volume slightly lowered, revealing a hint of embarrassment at his little rant.
a chuckle escapes you as he concludes his argument, prompting you to turn around and draw closer, your arms finding their place around his neck, while his arms encircle you instinctively, holding you close against him.
“reo is my favorite word, though. it’s too bad that you don’t like it.” you murmured.
reo knows what you’re doing. “you’re distracting me.”
“is it working?”
of course, it does. reo isn’t just helpless in the kitchen, but he is a much worse case of helplessness when faced with your warm gaze and soft charms.
he nodded in affirmation, his fingers tracing gentle patterns along your back, “have i told you i love you?” he asks, swiftly changing the matter.
“only everyday, love.”
reo began again, ever stubborn and persistent, always eager to prove his point. “that’s not enough. i think i should do it every hour—”
“i love you.”
another beat of silence, again, for the third time. 
if it wasn't evident before, it's undeniable now – reo is really helplessly in love with you. such testament to that is him now gaping and at a loss of words for your sudden declaration.
reo needs you to go back to your usual teasing self; your affectionate version might just give him a heart attack.
smiling to yourself because you caught him off guard, you took your chance. “now, go there and sit. as much as i love having you around, you are an awful cook, let alone an assistant.” you gently pushed his chest, guiding him toward the couch.
“that's not how you speak to your loved one, though.” he mumbled in response, seemingly recovered from your sudden i love you that almost knocked the air out of him.
“are you saying something?”
“i said, off the couch i go.”
you shook your head, a fond smile gracing your lips as you watched him, before heading back to the kitchen to prepare dinner.
your loved one, huh? that’s him, definitely. 
reo and love, to you, it’s the same thing.
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note. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY LOVER (i swear i planned something better pls forgive me) i'm late i know but it's still august 12 here :P i don't know what this is but pls take it away from me. reo i love you i love you i love—
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mediumsizedpidegon · 9 months
Text
Another avenue I want to explore in an Amity Park is Weird scenario is all the niche sub-cultures going on.
There is absolutely NO WAY there isn't a thriving goth community in Amity Park. They're holding picnics every full moon. They're holding crafting sessions in their friends' basements. They're adopting ghost animals left and right: eight-legged dogs and blob-cats, skeletal fish and neon bearded dragons.
There's a young man called Raphael who performs live music every week at a dance club with his band: he's got a myriad of shiny piercings, and a phone camera roll full of his rabbits, Morningstar and Salem. Perhaps those ghosts are bad business like the Fentons say, but the club's never felt more alive.
The scene and emo kids are multiplying at a rapid rate. The punks and grunge folks are doing shit with textiles that makes every quilting grandmother in a five mile radius swoop in to pass on their skills. Josie and Betty, old friends who periodically upload photos online of their handmade lace, suddenly gain an influx of young folks who want to learn how to make their own ghoulish patterns.
There's a new group peeling off from the goths that dress like the embodiment of Halloween– all bones, pumpkin orange and lengths of costume jewelry.
The historical costuming community is alive and well in these times, and they fall upon the few ghosts from times past willing to share knowledge like starving wolves. Their minds are full of patterning-math and fabric prices, and their excitement is, quite literally, infectious.
A revolution starts up in food service: a great many restaurants closed or moved to follow the many people who left Amity after the ghosts first came. A pair of brothers open a restaurant that has the best Polish food around: people politely don't comment on how the owners are dressed in clothes a century out of date or how their eyes gleam. Two cat cafes open, one space themed and another with loose definitions of what counts as a "cat." Assorted coffee and tea shops dot the landscape: some serve donuts, some have cupcakes, and others have breakfast wraps, sandwiches or savory hand pies.
People that can't afford to open a restaurant sell food out of their homes, advertised by cardboard signs with phrases like CAKES FOR $10, and BARBEQUE RIBS FOR SALE painted on them in gigantic bright letters. High school students bring in bags of cookies they made the night before and completely sell out of stock before the day is done. One woman's house has no signage and yet is known by word of mouth to be a herbalist, selling tins of homemade tea blends, flowers, assorted plant clippings, and cough drops.
Someone down the street of Casper High sells small batches of eco-friendly soap at a nearby corner store.
During summer time, lemonade stands are everywhere. Some of the lemonade is made with the strange fruits from one of the parks: no one dies, so it's fine.
The Farmer's Market has gotten... intense.
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flowerandblood · 3 months
Text
Appearances (Oneshot)
[ canon • Aemond x little sister • female ]
[ warnings: incest obviously, fingering, smut, angst, sexual tension, obsession, mention of arranged engagements ]
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[ description: All Aemond cares about is the recognition and attention of his younger sister, but she seems to ignore him and shun him, driving him to an ever-increasing state of withdrawal and dark, grim agony. Something inside him snaps when his grandsire announces that it is time to marry her off. Sexual tension, understatements due to lack of communication, obsession. ]
This oneshot has its sequels: Experience, but can be read as a stand-alone story.
My other works: Masterlist
_____
It seemed to him, though because of this his throat squeezed in pain and rage, that his little sister was simply afraid of him. He couldn't explain her behaviour otherwise – the way she quickly looked away, meekly lowering her eyelids adorned with her long, dark lashes, playing with her fingers in a nervous gesture as she met his gaze.
She was the only one who didn't have their pearly white hair, the only one who didn't have the eye colour due to the gods.
Even when she witnessed his duels with Criston Cole, when she could see how much he had changed, how skilful he was in wielding his sword, defeating him again and again, she did not congratulate him – she turned and left the square, no longer bestowing even a single glance on him.
Confronted again with her wordless rejection, he thought in the back of his head that she was disgustingly ordinary with her dark hair and eyes inherited from their mother, that she could be the daughter of some commoner walking up to his knees in the mud feeding his pigs.
However, his great annoyance usually lasted only a moment, after which he went back to his state of despair.
He didn't follow her, wanting to spare himself this humiliation and discomfort, feeling his heart twitching in rage, in shame that he so desperately desired her attention, a few words of recognition, one warm look.
He saw her one morning through the window speaking to her servant, gesturing vigorously and laughing pearly, joyful; he thought with regret that she was consorting with people who might take advantage of her, who cared only about her position.
That if she were his he would protect her from them.
She would be safe.
She was so careless, innocent, wise and naïve at the same time, looking at him with those big dark eyes of hers when someone in her presence annoyed him, begging him with her gaze not to explode.
His tongue was like a blade, cutting anyone who approached him – she knew this and was afraid to open her mouth in front of him, imagining for sure how cruel his reaction would be.
He didn't know how to explain to her that he would never hurt her, his sweetest little sister, his greatest joy.
He watched from the distance like a cool, sinister shadow as her fingers intertwined with Helaena's, stretched out side by side on their armrests during supper, observed her leaning towards her with a sweet smile, whispering something tenderly, from which their older sister giggled quietly – there was something mythological in these scenes, making a shiver run down his spine.
He knew that they sometimes met in her chamber and even slept together, confiding in each other about their feminine affairs that were beyond his comprehension, however, he couldn't stop the feeling of burning jealousy that filled his chest when he thought of how he wished it was him she visited at night.
He thought then of how tender he would be towards her, how his arms would enclose her warm, delicate body in his tight, firm embrace, protecting her from anything that might frighten her.
He imagined how wonderful she would smell, her oils teasing his nostrils constantly, sweet and intense – looking at her figure seated next to him he felt the need to bite into her flesh like a ripe fruit.
He thought she would taste like a peach.
When at last they had finished their conversation and her beautiful, soft hand reached for her cup her gaze finally met his – her plump, glistening lips parted slightly, as if the intensity of his gaze frightened her, her breasts quivered in quick, shuddering breaths.
He felt what he saw in his breeches, his length all swollen, demanding her closeness.
Wanting to keep her attention on him he lifted the platter with her favourite dish, sweet cinnamon pie filled inside with apples; he saw that she blinked quickly, her cheeks flushed at the realisation that he knew she favoured them.
He watched her swallow with difficulty, her trembling hand set her goblet aside – his manhood throbbed hard when their fingers brushed in the air as she took the silver platter from him. She lowered her gaze, embarrassed, her sweet, plump lips parted to whisper a quiet, barely audible thank you.
He leaned back again, looking at the pleasing profile of her face, her long eyelashes gleaming under the warm candlelight, a drop of sweat on her skin shimmering like a small diamond ran down her neck.
Gods, how he craved her.
He wanted to touch her, stroke her shamelessly exposed back with his large hand, rough from holding the hilt of his sword, and dig his fingertips into her warm, smooth skin, with a subconscious gesture proving to whom she belonged, that she had been his right, his delight and his duty since she was born.
Why didn't she realize this?
He watched with a squeezed throat as she took a piece of pie into her mouth, the involuntary lick of her tongue with which she brushed her lower lip focused all his attention.
The thought that this fleshy lips could in the same way clench around his painfully swollen cock, suck it and squeeze it, barely able to fit it in with her sweet cry of effort.
He grunted, looking away, feeling his length twitching and pushing against the tight material of his breeches.
She didn't look at him again that evening, absorbed in a discussion with their mother and grandfather as he drank Dornish wine, staring dully ahead, its tart aftertaste melting on his tongue.
"I spoke to your mother about the importance of slowly deciding on a suitable candidate for your husband, my love." Began their grandsire with his eyebrow raised in satisfaction, directing his words to his younger sister, who froze in mid-motion – he saw that her hands, in an involuntary reflex of terror, clamped down on the material of her gown.
She remained silent.
"She's still too young, for god's sake." He hissed out feeling rage like a burning fire pulsing through his veins. He grew hot and took another quick, deep sip from his cup, an uncomfortable silence fell around him.
Otto grunted, turning with a creak of wood in his seat, his fingers stretched out and clenched into a fist on the table top in front of him, apparently wondering why such a sudden and aggressive reaction on his part.
"I understand that as an older brother you feel responsible for her safety, however, she is now of the right age and has begun to bleed, and that's why…"
"Father." Muttered their mother, looking at him pleadingly, clearly not wanting him to bring up such intimate and sensitive topics at the table, moreover in the presence of other men.
He saw out of the corner of his eye how his sister dropped her gaze, her dark eyes shining from the tears of shame that had gathered under her lids, her brows arched in pain.
If she had only asked him to marry her he would have done so at once, freed her from this laughable obligation that her marriage to some mere lord would be.
He felt his jaw clench at the thought that no one would ever love her as devotedly, dearly, warmly as he, her blood, her protector, her brother.
"In the coming months, we would like you to meet a few candidates we consider worthy of your hand." Concluded their grandfather, taking a deep sip of wine from his goblet; he felt rage filling his chest when he saw that his sister merely nodded her head, accepting her fate without a word of protest, looking down at her plate.
He got up from the table, bitter and furious, leaving the hall without a word, unable to look at her, once again letting his anger take over him, accusing her in his mind.
Her lack of reaction, her lack of opposition, when it was so obvious that her husband could only be him, him, him.
He walked into his chamber, undoing the buckles of his tunic, throwing it angrily to the ground, remaining in only his chemise and breeches. Although he did not usually do so, he reached for the wine jug and poured himself a full cup, grabbing it and sitting down with it in the chair by the fire, tilting his head back, letting out loud sigh.
He shuddered when he heard a quiet, tentative knock on his door – he ran his hand over his face, guessing it was his Queen, as usual wanting to be his voice of reason, to come to him with her stoic calm, explaining to him why he had to accept the responsibilities that faced their family, including those standing before his sister.
He didn't feel like having this discussion, however, he acknowledged with reluctance that he couldn't dismiss his own mother.
"Come in." He said coolly, staring into the flames.
He heard the creak of the door opening and closing a moment later – he glanced involuntarily over his shoulder and froze, feeling his heart stop in his throat at the sight of her, beautiful, teary-eyed, her face all flushed red with pain, her fleshy, plump lips parted in a hastened breath, her brow arched in pain.
"Lēkia (big brother)." She mumbled out with difficulty, choking on her own tears – he stood up at her words looking at her with eye wide open in shock, driven by some sudden emotion, moved that she had come to him as he had always imagined she would, vulnerable and desperate, seeking refuge and a reassurance in his arms.
"Come closer, hāedar (little sister). Come." He whispered softly, extending his hand to her in a gesture of encouragement; she moved tentatively towards him, looking up at him with her wonderfully dark, large eyes, tear drops glittering on her lashes like little stars.
He parted his lips and swallowed loudly when her smooth, warm hand touched his, thought with tenderness that compared to his she was so small, so fragile.
When he dared to lift his other hand to her cheek she twitched, wrinkling her eyebrows, breathing loudly, distrustful like a maiden who was afraid of a stranger's touch, simultaneously craving his closeness and fearing it.
He breathed quietly as she let his fingers touch and run over the wonderfully soft, firm skin of her pink cheek, her eyelids closed for a moment, a quiet, sweet sigh leaving her lips.
"Are you afraid of me?" He asked in a calm, low, trembling voice, ashamed of how scared he was of her answer, of her rejection.
She looked at him surprised – her lips parted in astonishment as if she didn't know what to reply to his words, her quivering fingers touched his hand stroking her cheek.
"I fear your harsh judgment, brother. It seems to me that my person often arouses your frustration and impatience." She muttered in shame, lowering her gaze; he felt a squeeze in his throat at her words, not believing what he heard, what she confessed to him.
I am afraid of your harsh judgment, brother.
It seems to me that my person often arouses your frustration and impatience.
How could she think so? Was his eternal desire, his suffering so expressed in his gaze, his facial expressions, his gestures?
Did she perceive his rage at the lack of her closeness as his constant displeasure at the sight of her?
He was horrified by how deep the misunderstanding reached – he didn't know what he should do to fix it now, to reverse it, he ran out of words that could describe what he felt.
How glad he was that she was standing before him now, that she trusted him, that he had adored her from the moment she came into the world, cherished her with a love that was warm, tender and devoted, that he believed she had been born to be his, his sweet joy, his beautiful little sister.
He swallowed loudly, parting her plump, fleshy lips with his thumb, looking at her in emotion, feeling a painful tightness in his throat.
"My sweet sister, where did these words come from? How could I feel anything but adoration towards you?" He asked softly, feeling her whole body quiver at his words – her mouth parted involuntarily, letting his thumb go deeper, between her puffy, sticky lips.
Something changed in her gaze, dreamy and warm, from which he felt heat in his chest and lower abdomen, her fingertips digging into the skin of his palm.
"Ivestragī umbagon issa (let me stay)." She whispered in a trembling, uncertain voice, and he felt his breath caught in his throat, his manhood throbbed aggressively in his breeches at the thought that she wanted to stay in his bed, in his embrace.
His surprised silence made her lower her gaze, ashamed, apparently panicking at the thought of what she had suggested, of how indecent it was, surely thinking that he would now despise her.
"Very well." He muttered quickly, not wanting her to leave his side.
She lifted her hopeful gaze to him and nodded, swallowing loudly, her cheeks pink with emotion. He rubbed his thumb over her wet skin and leaned over her placing a tender, lingering kiss on her forehead, her wonderful scent filling his lungs again.
He took her small hand in his, guiding her towards his bed, sitting down on it with his face towards her, letting her stand over him and decide what would happen next, looking at her pleasant, girlish figure.
It seemed to him that she had no idea what they were doing, whether it was right – he could see thoughts and doubts running across her face, fears of what would happen if their mother found out.
"Come. Do not fret. Your big brother would never hurt you." He whispered in a voice trembling with emotion – he was hot, his heart pounding like mad in his chest, he felt butterflies in his stomach, a sweet delight of satisfaction spread through his body.
His words emboldened her; she stepped closer to him, standing between his thighs, breathing loudly. He sighed and closed his eyes as she took his face in her soft hands, stroking it for a moment with gentle, slow movements that made his throat dry up; he felt with horror that his cock was completely hard, all swollen and throbbing.
In a gesture of desperation he snuggled into her abdomen, clasping his large hands on her back – he heard her surprised gasp, her hands froze upwards for a moment before they began in a soft, calm motion to stroke his head as if he were a small child.
He closed his eyes, snuggling into her body, the material of her gown pleasantly delicate and soft; he could feel her flesh throbbing from beneath it, her womb that could swell with his inheritance, his dragon seed that could root deep inside her if only she noticed his devotion and love, if only she understood that they had always been destined for each other.
He clenched his fingers tighter on the material of her gown when he felt her lean in, enclosing him in her embrace – his face was locked between her shoulders, her womb and her breasts, enveloping him in her warmth, her hands running down his back with such tenderness and gentleness that he closed his eyes, wanting to focus only on that feeling.
"I am terrified, lēkia." She whispered softly, her breasts trembling in a broken breath – he moved away to look at her, his hand cupped her soft, warm cheek.
"Marry me, issa dōna rūklon (my sweet flower). Marry me and I will protect you. I will caress you, adore you, hold you in my arms, I will give you everything." He said in a quivering, low voice, placing the emphasis on the last word, so final, direct, betraying how desperate he was.
She looked at him for a moment, shocked, her lips twitching in disbelief, in terror and something else that shone in her dark eyes, but which he did not comprehend.
"You don't have to do this. Sacrifice yourself for me." She mumbled with a blush of shame, as if she thought his suggestion stemmed from his logic and tactics, from helping her not to leave her home, rather than from his feelings.
"How much longer do you want to torment me? Shall I fall on my knees before you and beg?" He asked resentfully, pain emerging from his throat with every word he spoke – her eyebrows arched in disbelief, her breasts began to rise and fall rapidly in accelerated, ragged breathing.
Her face expressed that only now did she realise what he meant.
"Marry me, brother. Marry me and never leave me again." She whispered so quietly that he barely heard her – they looked at each other with wide eyes, not believing what had just left their mouths, flushes of shame and doubt burning their cheeks.
He shuddered and drew in a loud breath as she placed her hands on his shoulders and climbed tentatively into his lap, startling him completely – he felt a jolt of heat, his cock so hard that he felt like it was about to explode.
All he felt was a squeeze in his throat and the heavy pounding of his heart when her soft fingers gently grasped his hand, her face blushing with embarrassment, a sigh full of arousal escaped her lips as she pulled her gown up, slipping it slowly between her legs.
They both opened their mouths wide and gasped loudly, surprised apparently at how intimate and shameless this sensation was – he thought in disbelief that she was leaking with desire, her hot opening pulsating restlessly under his fingers, her hand pressing them harder against her quivering flesh, eager to feel him deeper.
"− please − please −" She whimpered, breathing loudly, looking at him pleadingly with her dark eyes full of tears. He stared at her in shock wondering if it was possible that he had made a mistake, that he had misjudged the situation, that contrary to what he thought, she was reciprocating his affection.
His lack of hesitation, his fingertips that dug into her fleshy, hot womanhood surprised her so much that she squealed and hopped up on his lap – he put his free arm around her and held her in place, not letting her escape.
"− easy, little dove − shhhh −" He hushed her, his two fingers sinking into her plump muscles, collecting her moisture that leaked from her thirsty, throbbing core. He stared at her, seeing the expression on her face indicating that this experience had shocked her, sweet, soft moans erupted from her puffy, glistening lips, her hips involuntarily began to move to the rhythm of his hand.
"− that's it − let me take care of you − brothers know what is good for their sisters, don't they? −" He hummed low as if he were speaking to a small child and she only nodded, clearly having trouble concentrating. He sighed in pleasure as she wrapped her arms around his neck, her moist, sweet lips pressed against his in a sticky, loud kiss.
He murmured into her mouth with delight, thinking with awe that indeed her skin felt like the flesh of a fruit, wet and sticky to the touch, his fingertips teasing her bud hidden between her folds. He could feel her bouncing in his lap and trembling all over, quivering in his arms as his fingers roamed around that spot, their breaths raspy and loud, full of desire.
"− y-yes − right here, lēkia − mghmm −" She babbled in between their messy, saliva-wet kisses – he dared to slip his tongue between her plump lips answered by her sweet purr of pleasure, his hand all soaked with her juices, his long, slender fingers digging into her skin in circular, sure strokes.
"− just like that − soaking wet for me − issa dōna hāedar (my sweet little sister) −" He cooed in delight, feeling his swollen length pushing impatiently against his breeches, thinking only of how wonderful it would be to feel her, to watch his fat cock open her wide, her tight folds glistening from her moisture.
"− mhm −" She hummed between passionate, deep, ferocious kisses, a combination of their lips, teeth and tongues licking against each other.
She tilted her head back and moaned loudly as his fingers slowly made their way inside her, exploring her throbbing, swollen core – his thumb rubbed her her pearl, his fingertips searched intensely for the spot he'd read so much about in books, and when he found it her walls began to clench around him in convulsions, a pathetic whimper escaping her lips.
"− o-oh gods, brother, yes, please, please, please −" She mewled desperately, clasping her hands in his long hair, rising and falling on his fingers with a loud click of her moisture – he grasped the nape of her neck with his free hand and pulled her close, forcing her lips, swollen from his caresses, to join his in sticky, hot kiss.
"− come on, little one − I can feel you are close − thaaat's it, there we go −" He gasped out into her throat when a powerful shudder ran through her body, her moans of delight erupting from her mouth again and again as her hot muscles began to clench greedily around his fingers, sucking him inside, his hand all sticky with her fulfilment.
He was panting loudly along with her, cuddling her quivering body, thinking of how wonderfully warm and fleshy her insides were, how perfectly she would squeeze his cock once he could possess her whole, his sweet wife, filling her to the brim with his seed every night.
He intended to perform his marital duty with passionate devotion.
"− such a good girl − you did so well for me, dōna hāedar −" He praised her, wanting to reassure and soothe her, stroking her soft hair, pressing her face to the hollow of his neck, his hand between her thighs cupped over her pulsing, moist womanhood.
The smell of her wetness, of her flesh, of her sex filled his entire lungs, so lewd, ungodly and wonderfully carnal – his mouth placed involuntarily little butterfly kisses on her beautiful face, her eyes closed, her lips slightly parted in delight and disbelief, her hands clenched on the material of his chemise.
He grasped her fingers in his and lifted them to his lips, kissing them with tenderness and reverence as his other hand stroked unashamedly her plump bare buttock hidden beneath the material of her gown.
"Now it's my turn."
_____
Aemond Taglist:
(bold means I couldn't tag you)
@notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @rwdkarla @echos-muses
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genericpuff · 4 months
Text
All That Glitters is Not Feminism - An Analysis of LO's Brand of "Feminism" and What Remains of its Fanbase (The Twist)
Alright y'all, I've been waiting a hot minute to talk about this because I wanted to see how it fully panned out before saying anything about it. And it's not even specifically about LO, but I do think it's very adjacent to it in a way that I'm sure you'll be shocked to hear. Much of it speaks to how we prop up white writers even at the expense of POC.
This is 'the twist' attached to my first post that I made just a couple hours ago that concerns an entirely other topic but I feel ties into this subject very well.
If you haven't heard, there's this author who recently fucked around in the Del Rey publishing scene.
Her name is Cait Corrain.
In the original tweet calling this person out, names were not dropped, but it was made very clear that what Cait did was unacceptable behavior.
You can read the entire thread that started it all from Xiran here:
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There's also a GREAT recap thread from one of the affected authors, Bethany Baptiste:
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I want to make it clear that Cait Corrain isn't just a debut author.
Cait Corrain is - or now, was (foreshadowing is a literary device that-) - a debut author who had an agent, a publishing deal with Del Rey (an imprint of Random House which is a MAJOR publisher) and even an upcoming Illumicrate deal - meaning, her book was going to be packaged in a monthly loot crate subscription shipped directly to people's doors, quite possibly one of the best marketing deals a debut author could ever get, usually unheard of in this industry. All the pre-reviews were strong and positive.
Cait's book was literally set up for success. All she had to do was sit back, relax, and watch the fruits of her labors roll in. She had written the book. It was ready for release. The hard part was technically over.
But I guess the racism brainrot got to her because as it turns out, since April - for EIGHT MONTHS - she's been making alternate accounts on GoodReads to review bomb the indie and debut works of her friends and peers, most of whom were POC and did not have the same opportunities set up for them as she did. There are loads of receipts to back this up that you can find in those above threads ^^^
To say that this is appalling is an understatement. This was an intentional and deliberate act of racism by a white queer writer who claimed to be "jealous" - of what, I can't imagine - so much so that she deliberately sabotaged her peers, people who had supported her and her book.
And then when she got caught? She doubled down on it and claimed it was a "friend", also an alternate account she made up.
The exchange between her and this made-up person is actually the funniest shit out of this entire thing, it's so poorly written and as soon as people noticed the time stamps were out of order, that was when it truly cemented her newfound clown status.
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"oooooh he's standing right behind me, isn't he?" energy right here LMAO
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yes keep expositing cait, that's really selling the "this is a genuine conversation that really happened with a real person" bit 🤡
Anyways, it became abundantly clear that Cait was just going to continue to dig her heels in over something she caused.
This has been a hot topic in the UnpopularLO Discord, not just because of how crazy of a situation it is that we had to talk about it - and we have people within the community who work in the literature and media sector - but because we noticed one very telling thing in the list of series that she had review bombed in her very own personal act of wrath.
You see, Cait made one fundamental mistake that led to her undoing - she didn't just review bomb the works of her peers, she positively reviewed her own book and others.
What's her book about though?
It's an Ariadne x Dionysus retelling set in space.
It's literally another "modern retelling" of Greek myth.
And wouldn't you know it, guess who else created a modern retelling of Greek myth that she included in her positive review raiding while she was sabotaging the work of her actual peers?
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Now, I think it goes without saying that what I'm about to say should be taken with MOUNTAINS of salt, I'm sure a lot of you are reading the headline and going, "Ugh, really? You're gonna make this about LO? Could you give it a rest already???"
I need you to understand, with the current state of Rachel's fanbase and 'modern' Greek myth literature as a whole, at this point Lore Olympus - and the works that are literally inspired by it such as A Touch of Darkness - has basically become the shopping cart litmus test of basic decency. It's like when someone says they like Harry Potter - you can't take it automatically at good faith anymore, because there isn't a whole lot separating someone who simply liked Harry Potter as a kid and still rewatches the movies from time to time from someone who fully supports the politics and agenda of J.K. Rowling. No, not everyone who still watches the movies or reads the books fondly is a TERF by default, but it's justifiably a reason for suspicion when the consequences are often too dire to risk.
There's this thing that's been happening in the LO fanbase that I frankly saw coming, but has really recently started to hit its peak. It's what I call the "Kanye Effect", where the comic has become so absurd and backwards in its misogyny and white feminism that the only people who seem to be left supporting LO are the people who are legitimate white feminists and misogynists - because all the normal level-headed people fell off the comic ages ago (or transitioned into the critical side of the community).
I mentioned it in my last post, but it bears repeating - Rachel's fanbase has literally been shipping Hera, a victim of abuse, with her abuser, Kronos. I'm really hoping a lot of them realize how fucked up that is now that Hera herself has called it what it is - abuse - within the comic, but I also can't count on the LO fanbase picking up on that or even noticing it with how quickly people swipe through it each week, it's very apparent at this point that most of LO's readers don't know how to chew their food and don't pay attention when Persephone and Hades aren't onscreen.
But I'm digressing. Or am I? We're talking about Crown of Starlight after all. The debut Dionysus x Ariadne sci-fi/fantasy romance that was quite literally advertised using Lore Olympus as its baseline-
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This. This is what the ongoing cultural erasure and white feminist uwu-fication of Greek myth is doing to the literary zeitgeist surrounding Greek myth as a whole. This is why we criticize Lore Olympus and works like it that are created by disingenuous people who only seek to use the assets of Greek myth material as a way to shoot themselves up into fame and stardom. This is why we demand better standards in the literature and webcomic industry, so that people like Rachel and Cait can't use their privileges to quite literally erase the source material that they used to make themselves famous in the first place.
If anything, Cait's actions didn't just affect the people she negatively review bombed, or the people she was affiliated with, but also the people she positively reviewed. While I don't support what Rachel creates, she wasn't the only one who Cait went out of her way to review positively from her alt accounts, there were many others as evident in the Google Doc - but all this really does is tarnish the legitimacy of these books and their ratings by artificially jacking up their numbers that are advertised to others.
Making Greek myth fanfiction or fun creative retellings was never the problem, but it's now being sabotaged alongside so many other genres and mediums by toxic white individuals who can't even keep themselves from committing hate crimes, let alone create something purely for entertainment that's transparent in its illegitimacy, lest it destroy the illusion that these people are qualified to speak over those whose voices are being stifled, often by these very same people. Many of these writers get caught and are still allowed to continue what they're doing - that was certainly what we feared with Cait.
Until today.
It was revealed today that Cait's book will no longer be featured in the Illumicrate May 2024 box.
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Del Rey has dropped Crown of Starlight from their publishing schedule.
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Daphne Press will be hopefully following suit.
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And, most telling of all, Cait's own agent has severed ties with her.
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For anyone not familiar with the inner workings of the publishing industry, Cait has essentially been blacklisted. Without an agent or a publishing house, she'll have to entirely rely on her own resources through self-publishing. Unless she manages to sneak her way back in under an alias (which I wouldn't put it past her to try) she no longer has access to the mainstream publishing industry that was already guaranteed for her before she let her 'jealousy' get the better of her.
Her career was already made for her. She had a red carpet laid out for her debut. Her book was getting good pre-reviews and she had quite literally nothing keeping her from her success. The best thing she could have done was nothing. Somewhere in her head, she made up a threat that didn't exist, and sealed her fate in acting on it, a self-fulfilling prophecy.
I think in these situations such as with Cait Corrain, Rachel Smythe, and - also recently and relevant - James Somerton, we need to become increasingly aware of how white voices are still overpowering POC voices, not just in their actions, but in the opportunities they're given over others which they then use to further stifle the voices of those they feel "threatened" by or feel entitled to speak over. While neither James nor Rachel have used sock puppet accounts to "take out the competition" (at least as far as we know lmao) James did quite literally steal the words and voices of queer writers who were deserving of their time in the spotlight, and Rachel's work is being quoted as "rewriting Greek myth" as if its blatant gentrification and appropriation should be marketed as some sort of positive.
It's all too common for these deeply-rooted prejudices to rear their ugly heads and for the people who carry them to act out in this way while justifying it as "jealousy" or "a mistake". This isn't jealousy. This isn't a mistake. This isn't someone "starting drama". This is genuine, targeted hate, with the intention of snuffing out the voices of others who should be empowered, not silenced.
All that time and effort, and for what? Racism and petty jealousy? It just goes to show, it doesn't matter how many opportunities you're given, how high up on the ladder you already are - it won't fix the deeply-rooted insecurity and racial pettiness that spurs people on to do such horrible things.
I've spent enough of my time and words today talking about Cait, and James, and Rachel. So to end this off, I want to join in with all the others who have highlighted the books that were review-bombed by Cait, and help in uplifting them so they can have successful debuts. I'll be pre-ordering a few of them, so I'll be happy to make dedicated posts for them in the future after they release. Please consider purchasing them for yourself if you want some new reading material <3
The Poisons We Drink by Bethany Baptiste:
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So Let Them Burn by Kamilah Cole:
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To Gaze Upon Wicked Gods by Molly X Chang:
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Mistress of Lies by K.M. Enright
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Voyage of the Damned by Frances White:
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(I'm sure there are plenty others so if I missed any here, please let me know so I can add them here and check out their books!)
If there's any silver lining to this, I hope that it makes people aware of the media they consume and who it's being created by. I hope it makes people more willing to seek out the books that aren't getting the same opportunities as Cait Corrain and Rachel Smythe. I hope it's a wake-up call to the industry that matters like this need to be taken seriously and that POC writers are still being silenced under their own noses. And most of all, I hope it's a reminder that we shouldn't even need at this point that this behavior is not okay, no matter what level a person climbs to - that just because someone is part of one minority doesn't mean they're not capable of sabotaging another. It sucks that that has to be said, it sucks that despite these groups being so intersectional there are still people within them who submit to their deeply-rooted insecurities and find ways to feel threatened that they use to justify hateful behavior.
Having a platform is a privilege. It should never be weaponized against your own peers or those who you simply feel "threatened" by for no reason beyond your own imposter syndrome or doubts or internal struggles. Because as much as you may feel like you've earned where you are, that never gives you the right to weaponize your opportunities against others who were never given those same opportunities in the first place. "Feminism" is not using your power to crush "other women". "Progressiveness" is not exclusive to the progress that only benefits you.
I wish only the best to those who were affected by the actions of Cait Corrain. You deserve to be heard and seen and appreciated for the work you do and the abuse you've had to tolerate. I look forward to your debuts in 2024 <3
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deeranon · 1 month
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Troubling Travels | deer! Creator reader
Note: I’m kinda bad at writing fight scenes. Or…are there no fight scenes at all? :)
For @idkfitememate Hope you like it :D
╔⏤⏤⏤╝❀╚⏤⏤⏤╗
Cyno cursed like his life depended on it. Tighnari was going to kill him if he ever found out about this. That was, if he made it out alive, first.
It had started out like any other day. You were happily gathering leaves and sticks for your secret little hoard(that wasn’t very secret, Tighnari knew about everything) of weapons (that were not actually weapons) to be used on Dottore if he ever thought of stepping foot anywhere near Collei or Tighnari or any Sumeru character ever. Minus the sages, they were also going to be victims of your mighty stick-hoard if you ever saw them. (Yes, you were peaceful but some things could not be forgiven.)
Tighnari had given you the nickname “ورقة الشجر الصغيرة”, little leaf, a few weeks after you had persistently stuck around even after you had healed from the treasure hoarder attack. And it stuck surprisingly well. Now, as of today, you were unofficially-but officially in the hearts of all Gandharva Ville residents—“منظم الأوراق الرسمي وجامع الأوراق الرسمي”, the official leaf organizer and collector. As a sort of celebration for your “promotion” Tighnari had asked Cyno to come visit during your “first ever official leaf collecting mission” in a letter he had sent a few weeks back. Indeed, Tighnari had planned to promote you for some time now. But it was hard keeping you distracted while they secretly set up a surprise party. But they managed to succeed in the end.
The entire village was decorated with various flower garlands(all given the green light by Tighnari) and tables were filled to the brim with tasty food for both humans and deer. People chatted animatedly with one another as they ate and danced. You were content to stand on the sidelines with Collei, eating a delicious salad while the forest rangers weaved you and their friends flower crowns. Seeing others happy made you happy.
The promotion party went well into the evening, with multiple excursions led by you to gather more fruit from the forest.(Tighnari was so proud that you remembered which fruits he told you were safe to eat and which were not) And when Cyno arrived with his ever neutral looking beautiful face, you were sure you were about to faint from happiness.
You had pranced up to him with a specially made flower bracelet just for him. Okay-YOU didn’t make it, Collei weaved it for you because trying to make a flower bracelet with hooves is hard. Sometimes, you missed your hands. But this form had its perks. Like the headpats you got and the wonderfully therapeutic back rubs when Tighnari brushed your fur for you. But you certainly deserved points for somehow communicating to your dear friend Collei that you wanted to make a bracelet for someone. The purple flowers probably helped.
Cyno looked down at your happy doe-face, or as happy as a deer could look with a deer-face. You were preening so much Cyno swore he saw sparkles emanating from you. You held the flower bracelet on the top of your fluffy head between the place where your antlers were starting to grow in. It was made of purple dahila’s and anemones, he noted before picking the bracelet up and sliding it onto his wrist.
“Thank you, little one. I promise to keep it safe.” Cyno said, slowly reaching out a cautious hand. Like Tighnari had taught him to do with stray cats and dogs. Sure, you were a deer, but it still counted, right?
In reply, you let out a giddy bleat and shoved your head underneath his calloused hand with vigor. Cyno felt his lips twitch into a smile. This wasn’t your first time meeting Cyno, but he was always so busy enforcing the law as General Mahamatra that he rarely had time to visit. So time spent with the general was special. He was happy to know you were doing well. Tighnari wrote about you in his letters frequently.
You nuzzled into his touch for a moment longer before backing away and prancing off into the festivities, stopping to look back at him with an expectant look.
Come join me!
Cyno paused before following after you. He wasn’t one for large parties but you looked so happy that he couldn’t decline. Besides, Tighnari and Collei were chilling out somewhere, so he could always go find them after hanging out with you in the core of the festivities. Maybe then he could pick up on the Genius Invocation TCG match he was having with Tighnari and Collei last time he was here. Oh, and maybe he could teach you how to play? Wouldn’t that be something.
It was nightfall now. Everyone was tuckered out from the party, fast asleep in their beds. Well, all except for two people and a deer.
“You don’t have to see me off. You should go get some rest for tomorrow.” Cyno said, adjusting the strap that held his canteen to his belt. Both you and Tighnari sighed at this.
“It’s not like we’re forcing ourselves to see you off. We want to do this. And there’s nothing you can do to change our minds.” Tighnari huffed as he crossed his arms.
You stomped your hoof in agreement. You chose to see Cyno off in the middle of the night, even though you knew you had things to clean up tomorrow. You knew how rarely you had one on one Cyno bonding time, and Cyno was one of your favorite characters in Sumeru. His bravery and strength in the heat of battle was something you saw as admirable.
Besides, you never knew when you would see Cyno next, or if he would be okay on a mission. His job was dangerous, and sometimes that made you worry. If only you could go with him…
Wait a second.
You COULD go with Cyno!
While you were connecting the dots in your head, Cyno had gotten fully ready to head off. He gave Tighnari a nod before turning his attention to you, who stood at the fox-eared male’s side with the same happy expression you had on that evening. Cyno felt his heart squeeze at the sight. He would, admittedly, miss you while he was gone. This next mission was going to be a long one.
So, he kneeled down and gave you a gentle pat on the head. You let out a bleat and shoved your head under his chin(making him bite his tongue on accident) in a makeshift hug. Now would have been a nice time to have hands. But you were never one to complain much. Cyno gave a small smile and rubbed your back before starting to pull away. It was time for him to leave.
With a final delightful scratch behind your large fluffy deer ears, Cyno stood and started to walk away.
Only, he wasn’t alone.
You followed after him with a happy pep in your trot.
Cyno paused. Tighnari tried not to laugh. You shimmered like you had never shimmered before.
Cyno sighed and shook his head before pointing to the ground and stating “stay.” in his best commanding voice. Internally, Cyno knew it was futile attempting to order a deer around, when it obviously wasn’t going to understand him. You stared at him innocently. Cyno took it as a sign to start walking again. Only for you to follow(again).
This repeated multiple times. (Tighnari almost burst a lung from laughter, exhaustion was clearly getting to the usually calm and collected fox ranger)
“I think they want to go with you, Cyno.” Tighnari finally said. Cyno stared at Tighnari.
“Yes. I don’t think I noticed.” He huffed. You let out another call and ran circles around Cyno’s legs with excitement, and Cyno felt his heart soften. It wasn’t that he didn’t want you to come with him, it was just that the desert was an incredibly dangerous place. Especially since you had no natural defenses. Not to mention your fur. You would bake like an egg on the sidewalk in the middle of a heatstroke in a matter of minutes. Cyno knew this, because Tighnari had the exact same problem. And he didn’t want to see you suffer.
Yet you seemed adamant about staying with him. Both could see that. Cyno didn’t know what to do. Should he find a way to keep you with Tighnari? Or let you follow him into the lonely desert?
Tighnari took Cyno’s silence as his cue to become the voice of reason. “I am not one for old tales, but it’s been said for hundreds of years that animals have an innate sense of danger. A sixth sense, even. Or sometimes called premonition. Whatever you want to call it, having a companion that can sense danger early on could be an invaluable asset to your missions, Cyno.” Cyno didn’t seem fully convinced. So Tighnari continued with a bit more seriousness than before. “Deer have around 297 million olfactory receptors, meaning their nose is better than any human’s or dog’s. Their eyes are also better than a human’s at night—and they detect movement faster than people, too. Deer can also hear high frequency sounds, and can move both ears in different directions at the same time. These assets are perfect for helping to track down thieves and rouges. And I’m positive you already know how intelligent little leaf is. Their level of understanding is basically unheard of.”
Cyno nodded, but his face was blank. “I know. But the desert is unforgiving to all. I’m just skeptical about how they might respond to the temperatures of the desert. I wouldn’t want them getting hurt if they can’t fight back.” You were after all, a deer. Sure, you had multiple advantages over Cyno in tracking abilities but you were still considered prey. It was a reasonable thought.
After all, how could they know that you were a human isekai’ed into a deer’s body?
But you were determined to go with Cyno. You rubbed your head into his legs pleadingly. As if to send the message that you would be alright.
Cyno instinctively ran his calloused hand through the fur on your neck, making you preen at the attention. You could tell he was standing on the edge of agreement. He just needed one last nudge.
“Let’s put it this way. I put the little leaf under your care and protection while in the desert so that you can help me record their reactions and adaptability in a different environment. They are, after all, an unknown species of deer. No deer recorded has natural markings like theirs in any document ever, so it’s imperative that we find out as much as we can about them so that we can learn more.” Tighnari reasoned, pointing to your lush furry coat that Cyno was carding through at that very moment. And he was correct. You did have a unique design. (Description below is optional)
Small splotches that looked almost like stars littered your neck and spine, with two small white diamond-like teardrops touching the corner of your eyes. Your eyes were more focused, like there was an actual thought going on inside your head instead of the soul devouring gaze a deer usually had. Your ears were fluffy and faded in an ombre fashion to an almost unnatural pitch black colour, as did your fluffy tail-except it faded to a snowy white. There was even a white four pointed star like the ones you see on a compass rose in the middle of your fluffy forehead.
Safe to say, you didn’t exactly look like a normal deer. “They could very well be the last of their kind, or they lost their parcel in some kind of accident before Collei and I found them. Whatever the case, we need more information to understand how we can help little leaf in the best way possible. Like putting protective laws up to keep them from harm.” Tighnari finished. And that seemed to convince Cyno immediately.
“Alright. I’ll bring them with me. And I swear on my life to keep them safe.” Cyno promised with a solemn nod. Tighnari huffed as he crossed his arms, smile barely hidden.
“You better. Now get going before I change my mind.” Tighnari snapped, making a ‘shoo’ motion with his hand. Cyno stood and gave another nod of respect before turning around and walking out of Gandharva Ville with you at his side. Just as you both walked out of earshot, and out of Tighnari’s sight, he murmured “Stay safe…” before turning around and heading for his hut. So that he could sleep his worries away.
And also because it was past midnight.
꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎
You watched silently as Cyno set up camp behind a large rock that would block out most of the piercing grains of sand flying in the wind. It has been six days since you set off with the general mahamatra into the endless desert. And night was starting to fall. Which meant possible bandit attacks or wild animal attacks. Or maybe a mix of both. It was hard to tell these things before they happened. Minus bandit attacks. Cyno eliminated any human trouble before you could even catch a glimpse of the ruffians.
The wind howled ferociously at both you and Cyno, who seemed unfazed at the sand trying to stab into his eyes and turn him blind. And yet you almost didn’t feel the screaming wind yourself. Probably because of your wonderous coat of fur. Hopefully it wouldn’t be a headache to brush out later. It would add to Cyno’s work, which was already a hassle itself. Curse your lack of hands(once again). You watched as the sun slowly set and the sands cooled before your eyes, giving you reprieve from the sweltering heat. You were just glad you hadn’t grown your winter coat yet. That would have been a nightmare.
The night rose, eclipsing the golden sky as Cyno finished setting up the tent. Yet something felt off. Like when you glance at a picture and then leave, only to return and realize something is different about it but you can’t tell what it is. It was an unsettling feeling in the back of your head that wouldn’t go away.
Cyno seemed to feel it as well, his gaze was dead set on the hills of sand. You stared out at the vast sea, ears perked and swiveling like satellites. But there was nothing odd that you could sense, only the rising wind. You sniffed at the air next. Immediately your nose was rushed with a million different scents, all leading to something different than the last. It had greatly confused you when you first awoke to so many new smells, but over time it became easier to sort them out. Now, your nose was a valuable tool.
And right now, the air crackled with the scent of rain.
You let out a sigh of both relief and disappointment before trotting through the tarp entrance of the tent. Cyno continued to stare at the dunes with an unnerving gaze before turning to follow you inside. But not before grabbing his pike and surveying the area protectively. Just to make sure.
The wind was so angry and wild that you were almost certain your ears were going to bleed out. The rain had arrived with the sandstorm an hour after Cyno had managed to set the camp tent up, meaning you were both lucky enough to not get absolutely clobbered by the bullet-like water droplets.
You could hear nothing but the persistent rain and the raging wind of the midnight storm.
And that meant you couldn’t hear the footsteps approaching with each clap of thunder.
But Cyno knew every trick in the book. Nothing would escape his senses. Not when he had someone important to protect with him. You blearily watched as he tightened his grip on his weapon from where he sat with your fuzzy head in his lap, drowsy from exhaustion. He gently lifted your head from his legs, trading them out for the second of two blankets he had packed for the journey.
Next thing you knew, Cyno was rushing out of the tent like it had been set on fire.
Your mind was hazy from what little sleep you had mustered, so his reaction didn’t fully compute in your brain for multiple minutes before you rushed to your shaky legs. Having four legs instead of two had certainly been a challenge at first, and still was when you weren’t focused or completely energized. So you couldn’t help but berate yourself silently as you wobbled like a drunkard ready to pass out before you made it to the tent flap.
Outside, Cyno was fighting three mercenaries dressed in red in the rain at once. All had sun kissed skin and brownish-black hair, but they used different weapons, meaning Cyno had to duel three different battles all at once. One used a spear, the second had a crossbow with odd smelling arrows, while the third held a metal axe so big you were convinced it better belonged with a mitachurl.
Cyno swung his pizza paddle polearm through the air like it was an extension of himself, blocking a heavy swing coming from the axe-wielder with the shaft of his weapon that glowed amber in the dark night. A whistle sounded through the air as an arrow shot through the sky, bringing its horribly odd scent with it.
You watched, mortified at the realization that Cyno might get hit with what you now realized was an arrow tipped in poison. Time seemed to slow as Cyno turned his head at the sound of the arrow whistling while simultaneously swinging at the axe-wielder and striking him in his chest, ripping through the man’s skin like it was butter. The large man crumpled to the sand. But that wasn’t the end. Just as the arrow was about to strike Cyno’s shoulder, he let out a growl and electro crackled through the air.
“Futile!”
Cyno lunged forward and snapped the arrow into a thousand tiny pieces before leaping at the crossbow user and kicking the weapon out of his hands.
The man let out a yelp that turned into a scream as large bolts of bright purple lightning wracked his body. Cyno was holding the man’s shoulder in an iron grip, using himself like a taser. The male let out a final wail before he slumped over, either dead or unconscious.
For a single second, all was silent.
Then, there was a war cry piercing the air. The third man, the one with the spear, had jumped from the top of a rock and was plummeting down to Cyno with murderous intent.
But Cyno was not fazed.
“Your sins weigh upon your soul!”
There was a sudden explosion of light around Cyno as his vision burned bright in the endless pitch black night. His body was swathed in glowing purple binds that circled and looped into large claw-like hands sharper than any dagger or sword. Runes in an ancient unknown language were burned into the glowing cloth that snaked around his arms. The headpiece glowed with the same runes as eyes, now open and uncovered, shone with golden light. An ominous had aura surrounded Cyno as he called for the divine spirit to indwell him. Now, that aura turned into furious electricity that snapped and swatted at its enemies.
The man with the spear screamed as an elongated electro arm of Pactsworn Pathclearer reached out and grabbed him from mid air. He tried to use his spear to pierce the hand that held him, but it merely broke into minuscule shards the moment it even grazed the claws. In retaliation, it’s grip tightened significantly before it flung the man to the ground, where his head hit a rock with a sickening crack.
And just like that, the battle was over. Three bodies laid in the sand, defeated. There were no more attackers left for Cyno to defeat.
Or at least, that’s what Cyno thought in the second he had let his guard down. Electro fizzling out around him.
You knew otherwise.
Ten more figures emerged from beyond the dunes.
But you were more worried about the sniper with poison tipped arrows and a bow who was aiming right for Cyno at that very moment.
With a bleat, you rushed up the cliff side faster than you had ever run before. Rain still pelleted you like knives as thunder rumbled in the sky high above you. But you continued to run.
The sniper drew the bowstring to the tip of his mouth.
You scrambled to the top of the cliff on shaky legs, making a mad dash for the archer who was so incredibly focused on aiming he didn’t even notice the sound of your pounding hooves as they kicked up sand. Your body hidden in the blackness of night. He would never see you coming.
Cyno stood below, head whipping around as he looked for you frantically. The moon was halfway to approaching midnight but it was already almost pitch black. The rain was no help, either.
The best thing Cyno could do right now is focus on the incoming targets. Their footsteps against the sand were in no way trying to be hidden, and the sickening feeling Cyno was sensing set him on edge.
Cyno’s mind was a flurry of different emotions, but if he wanted to stay alive long enough to look for you and complete his mission, he had to focus on the fight in front of him. So he readied his spear and crouched, gathering all the energy he could into his legs as the waited for the enemies to strike.
Just like Cyno expected, they lunged for him with weapons in hand in a consecutive attack. But Cyno was more than ready. After all, what kind of general mahamatra would he be if he couldn’t defeat ten people? Admittedly, he had never fought ten on one at the same time before and in almost total darkness while it stormed heavily. But there was a first time for everything, right?
The sniper smirked, homing in on his target with horrid mirth twinkling in his eyes. His comrades had surrounded Cyno in a circle, caging him in as he jumped from one fight to another. Though many were beaten and bruised, it did not matter if they fell. For they were merely a distraction so that he may make the shot that would end the wretched general mahamatra Cyno once and for all. His heart beat giddily in his ears as his fingers started to loosen their grip on the poison tipped arrow aimed right at Cyno’s heart.
Though it will not be beating for much longer his mind purred.
Pure thrill pulsed through his veins as he his fingers slowly slip from the bowstring. His heart beat spiked just as his fingers slid from the string, only to let out a mighty howl of pain as something crashed into his shoulder, sending him teetering on the cliff face, his right hand flailing and his toes grazed air. There was a snap as the bowstring thrummed against whatever crashed into him with such force. He let out a colourful string of curses when he realized his aim had been jarred into missing Cyno’s heart.
So when he looked down at the perpetrator:
he saw a deer.
His rage increased tenfold and he let out a furious yowl, gripping onto the creature’s neck as it rushed at him once again. It cried out as they both went careening off the edge of a tall cliff. But the man only smiled manically.
If he could not kill his target, he would take with him the life that tried to protect it. Even if it meant meeting his end.
“NO!”
There was a cry, but it was swept into the whistling wind.
There was a sharp pain in the back of his head.
Then, everything went dark.
Cyno huffed, glaring at the mercenaries with cold eyes as he tightened his grip on his polearm once again. Rain had somehow made it past his visor and onto his face, but he couldn’t care less.
He readied himself to fight once again when there was a loud scream echoing through the desert.
Only seconds after, an arrow shot through the air.
Slicing off Cyno’s bracelet of flowers.
There was another cry. But it was inhuman. Cyno whipped around, heart racing as his eyes caught sight of a man dragging you off of a cliff so high he knew there was likely no chance you were going to survive the fall alive.
“NO!” He screamed, rushing forward. Maybe he could catch you before you hit the ground. But it was futile. The ring of mercenaries would not let him leave.
His wrist felt horribly bare without the bracelet there to occupy it.
Cyno cursed like his life depended on it. Tighnari was going to kill him if he ever found out about this. That was, if he made it out alive, first.
You closed your teary eyes tight as you and the man’s body tumbled through the air. The wind screamed and thunder wailed, and for a split second you could hear nothing. Everything around you was surely passing in a blur.
This was going to hurt. A lot. If you even made it out alive. But what could you do to stay alive and keep the man from getting killed? You didn’t mean to push him off the cliff!
Time seemed to slow as your mind rushed to think of any possible solution. But only scraps of a plan formed.
Whatever!
There isn’t enough time to plan!
Do something before you both die!
So you opened your eyes and winged it.
You bunched your limbs close to your chest and then kicked them straight into the insane man’s chest, making him wheeze but also sending him crashing into a miraculously small ledge head first.
You were accidentally sent flying into the open mouth of a large cave from the force you had put into the kick. A searing pain ripped into your shoulder as you started to loose altitude and fall to the cave floor. A rock had sliced your shoulder open, leaving a blood stain on the rock and a small waterfall of blood trickling down your fur. You let out a cry of pain as you tumbled into the ground blanketed by a thin layer of sand.
You were beaten, but you were alive! Hooray!
The world outside of the cave raged with almost killer intent as the storm grew worse and lightning started to strike as the wind screamed. It was best to stay in the cave until it cooled over, you wisely decided.
You lifted your head at the sound of rumbling from further within the cave, making your ears swivel and your nose twitch. If there was something dangerous deeper in the cave you would rather take your chances with the storm outside.
But all you could smell was the faint scent of dried herbs and burnt fire wood. Which wasn’t very normal for a cave at all. You knew it would be a better idea to stay near the mouth of the cave, but you were injured and your fur was uncomfortably wet and all you wanted at the moment was something to warm yourself up while you waited for the storm to end so that you could look for Cyno.
So with a great heave, you lifted yourself onto your four wobbly legs and adventured deeper into the cave. Your shoulder throbbed with spite as you moved, but you ignored it and continued on.
You limped through a long tunnel filled with iron ore and an unlit stove ,as well as crystals of all colours, making you silently awe at the sight as you passed into a wide cavern filled with luscious green trees and red vultures that hopped branch to branch. Rocks mysteriously started to float in the air the further you walked into the great cavern. As did a bright white light.
By the time you had reached the far end of the cavern, the light was almost blinding. You squinted to make out anything but the tunnel branching deeper into the earth would not yet reveal its secrets to you.
There was another rumble.
The scent of dried herbs grew stronger the longer you stood in front of the glowing tunnel, too nervous to move. A distant feeling of familiarity tickled the back of your mind as your eyes darted around the area nervously. The vultures seemed ignorant as the ground shook, so surely there was no danger nearby. You took a shaky hoof-step back as the walls started to tremble as well. Your ears went flat as you glanced back to the tunnel from whence you came.
Should you leave?
But you could still hear the roar of thunder outside, meaning the storm had yet to stop. No. You could end up getting killed in the storm if you weren’t careful. And your wound still throbbed. It was best to stay in the cave. Though maybe you should just stay near the entrance. Yes, that sounded like a good idea.
You turned your head back around only to be greeted with a long snout sniffing at your fur where the tunnel should have been.
You let out a bleat of surprise and jumped several feet in the air, heart racing.
Then, it hit you.
This was the tunnel to Apep’s den.
And right before you was Apep. Or—it’s head, at least. The tunnel was much too small for its large serpentine-like body to fully fit through.
Oh. So Apep was the one giving off the dried herb smell. That…made sense, actually.
Apep stared down at you with its large glowing eyes that lit up the earth in a gentle glow.
“It has been quite a long time since I have last seen you, Mother. I am overjoyed to know that you are alive and well after all this time.” Apep said, voice gentle and lulling. A stark contrast to what you had heard from behind a screen.
You could only stand shocked, unable to think.
Apep stared at your frozen form with a sad gaze, sighing through it’s nose sadly(if that was even possible). “Ah, I see you do not remember. But that is to be expected after all that happened back then.” Apep paused to lower it’s head to the ground and nudge your furry cheek gently with it’s own. “You are the Creator of Teyvat. So you are Divine Mother of all. Though how I see it, only the mighty dragons like myself should be allowed to call you Mother. For we were the first. But perhaps your tastes have changed over the time you were gone. Shall I call you Divine One, one of your many titles?”
Apep’s words barely made sense to you right now. But one thing you knew very well.
Apep had called you the divine creator of Teyvat.
But truly, you wanted nothing more than to just be called by your name. No tittle needed. Maybe it was because Apep’s words had yet to sink in or you didn’t wish to be put upon a pedestal. Or maybe because you were a truly kind being to all. (This was really starting to feel like one of the SAGAU! fanfictions you liked to read in your free time) (and also because you didn’t want Arlechino to come after you)
But how were you going to get that across to Apep?
You let out a bleat.
The lights all along Apep’s sides glowed in recognition as it’s eyes somehow grew kinder and happier.
“I understand. That is a lovely name. May I truly be allowed to call you by it?” Apep said. You nodded. You would like nothing more than for Apep to call your by name. “Very well. Now, how is it that we have come to meet after all this time?”
And so, you told Apep everything that happened in the past week.
And it had some very strong words to say about some things. But Apep promised that once the storm passed it would make sure you reunited with Cyno.
And you did. Cyno did not physically show the worry on his face but he never let you out of his sight for the rest of the mission. Even as he dragged an unconscious rouge researcher behind him with an iron grip.
It was also safe to say, Cyno got a good scolding from Tighnari when you returned to Gandharva Ville.
╚⏤⏤⏤╗❀╔⏤⏤⏤╝
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sleepymarimo · 7 months
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𝕤𝕟𝕒𝕡 𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕚𝕥!
summary: when he sees you falling for the charms of a particular chef, law decides that he needs to step in... pairing: law x gn!reader cw: law is lowkey (highkey) manipulative?? an: a little longer than i thought it would be lol but i hope y'all enjoy wc: ~900 ⤷ based on this song! ⤷ part of this arctic monkeys mini event!
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law's decision to take you to punk hazard with him was based on, more or less, rational reasons. you had a level head on your shoulders, your loyalty was unwavering and you were skilled in your area of expertise.
but most importantly? he could keep an eye on you.
yet, as the thousand sunny sailed off with the two of you in tow, he can't help but regret his decision.
with crossed arms, he leans against the railing and watches the love sick cook tend to your every need. the blond pampers you with flirtatious comments and treats of your choice, his eyes pooling with lust.
law can just tell that you're flattered by the attention.
for a second he opts to look away, his gaze snapping downwards to the swordsman who was napping a couple feet from him. he rolls his eyes at the sight, unable to keep his focus off of you for long.
your fidgeting fingers, bashful smile and the way you don't even attempt to push away the cook all wear law's patience down. you even lean into sanji's personal space, your whole body turning as you offered him all of your attention.
are you completely blind? law wonders, unable to hold in a scoff. briefly, he considers grabbing you by the shoulders and shaking the foolishness out of you.
he gets it.
confined to the walls of the polar tang, surrounded by crew mates who were akin to family, this kind of attention must have been appealing to you. that doesn't mean he has to like it, though. especially when, for nearly the past month, he's been thinking of a plan to tell you how he feels.
between managing the crew's best interests and his own desires, he chooses to bide his time. he can hold out. he's been holding out, ever since you came aboard his vessel. but he's smart and wary when it comes to such matters, so he takes to making things happen behind the scenes.
it's a little much, sure, but the surgeon is adamant on getting what he wants.
does he know what's best for you? law likes to think so.
the moment sanji drapes an arm around your shoulders, he decides that he's had enough. a familiar blue hue encapsulates the deck of the ship. "room."
accustomed to the spectacle that is law's devil fruit ability, you simply look towards your captain and offer him an inquisitive expression.
"shambles."
now, you're right beside him.
your head snaps towards where you were once standing, bringing a hand to your mouth when you notice sanji's arm wrapped around the shoulders of a groggy green haired swordsman. the two men don't have time to focus their attention on law, instead turning their anger towards one another as they began to exchange heated blows.
now in your own private corner of the ship, you give law an incredulous look. "law..." you say with some caution. "what was that about?"
he says your name, sharp and direct. "you need to snap out of it."
your brows furrow, arms crossing over your chest. you struggled to connect the dots and understand what he was referring to. the surgeon wasn't exactly the most open when it came to matters of the heart, so it didn't cross your mind that he'd be referring to anything of that nature.
"snap out of it?" you echo back, head tilting. "what're you talking about?"
that perverted chef. he thinks to himself, masking away any hints of displeasure by rolling his eyes and giving you his signature indifferent, observing expression. he'll fall for anything with two legs and a pretty face. just wait for this to all blow over and then i can take care of you how you want me to.
he can't tell you all that though, so he coolly manipulates his words and frames his concern in a more rational light. his tattooed fingers curl around your chin, squeezing lightly as he turned your face back towards the cook. he can't let it show, but he savors the feel of your soft skin under his fingers.
your eyes widen when you see sanji swooning over nami, pulling all the same lines and offering her her favorite dishes. you can feel your cheeks get warm as a sense of clarity runs through you, realizing that maybe you were a little too naive when it came to these things.
but at least you have a captain you can trust to steer you in the right direction, right?
"distractions." he says, simple and to the point, not giving you room to consider any ulterior motives he might have. "we're here for a reason, understand? don't forget what's at stake here."
he lets go of your chin and waits for your response, already thinking about what he would say if you kept insisting on wasting your time with the cook. luckily, you get the point.
you give him a nod and appreciative smile. "yeah, you're right." your shoulders shrug, your fondness towards your captain growing. "i won't forget. i mean, even though we're in an alliance and all that, we should make sure to take care of each other first, right?"
the surgeon can't help but smirk, satisfied. "bingo."
law has patience. he can wait for the right time to make you his, but until then, he'd make sure no one else got in the way.
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taglist: @dimplewonie
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runningfrom2am · 5 months
Text
leveling the playing field II
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summary: you didn't meet the requirements for the plinth prize, only to find out that you're not just missing out on that- you're missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime. your friend wants to help, because maybe you can help each other.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 2.8k
tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows. also someone dies (but its not too graphic), mentions of blood and violence you guys get the vibes.
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a/n: embarrassed to say this is grabbing me by the cuff of my shirt and yanking me out of writer's block sorry to everyone who followed for drew's characters lmao. anyway idek if any of this is any good but as long as i'm writing something i'm pleased.
next part
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Coriolanus clenched his jaw as he watched you eat from the plate of fruit your maid brought up after you called for tea, hoping that somehow you would just miss the sound of his stomach growling. He had said no, but you insisted because you were hungry. You don't even know what hungry feels like- he's already regretting letting you help him.
"So," You start, covering your mouth as you finish chewing so you could get down to strategy. If you were going to help, you had to go at this wisely. "What is your plan? Lay it out for me. I'll give you my thoughts."
"I talked to Tigris, she agreed that I need to get Lucy Gray to trust me." He tells you. "She said she would want someone here to care about her. That will have to be me."
"Okay." You nod, reaching for another slice of apple on the plate, trying to ignore the way his eyes track the fruit all the way from your plate to your lips. "So, I'm doing a more behind-the-scenes thing. I think that's better, for us and her. I don't want her to be overwhelmed."
"Yeah." Coryo agrees, staring at you. At this point, it's driving you crazy.
"Coryo." You state, pushing the dish across the coffee table in his direction. "Eat. Please."
"No, I couldn't." He tries to politely decline and you raise an eyebrow at him.
"I insist. It was made for two, I can't possibly stomach it all. It would be a shame for it to go to waste." You had laid your cards out just minutes earlier, making it clear you both knew more about each other's home lives than you cared to discuss, but that didn't mean you would torture him with it.
He hesitates before grabbing a slice and taking a few bites, looking past you and out the window. He wouldn't want it to go to waste like you said, after all.
"I won't tell anyone, you know." You say, your tone walking a line between joking and being serious. He'll interpret that in whatever way he chooses, and you're okay with that.
"I should be going, actually." He says, dropping the other half of the apple slice back onto the dish and standing up, smoothing the creases in his slacks.
You stand up as well, making your way to the door and ringing the bell that summons your maid. "I'll walk you out, just give me a second." You explain to him, and by the time you're done your sentence, she is there looking at you expectantly. "Take these leftovers and pack them up for my friend." You tell her, pointing to the mostly full plate. "And pack some of those pastries you made for his family as well, if you don't mind. Oh! And that bread, it will go bad soon if someone doesn't eat it." She just nods silently as you speak, walking past you to take the plate before leaving.
"Thank you." Coriolanus mutters through gritted teeth once your maid is out of earshot.
"Like I said," You smile. "I don't want it to go to waste."
The morning the tributes arrived, Coriolanus was late to class. He had never been late to class, not once, and you would know- because you hadn't either. Not that you were worried, but it was almost the only thing you could think about. It was odd, but he must have gone to greet Lucy Gray. That would be the only thing that made sense.
"Your little excursion is in violation of about five Academy rules, Mister Snow." Dean Highbottom says as the blonde boy walks in, uniform disheveled as he finds his seat across the room from you.
You make eye contact only briefly with him as the Dean goes on about how endangering the life of a student is against the rules, and your friend would be accumulating a demerit over the whole thing.
From what you can gather, he did go see Lucy Gray, which went farther than he intended when he ended up escorting her all the way into the monkey cage at the zoo. To you, that was comically appropriate. To Sejanus, it was a crime. Of course it was, his heart never left District Two. As much as you had your differences, Sejanus was a kind boy. You did like him, only after you got it through your mind that if you were to leave the Capitol, you would always be Capitol at heart. You're pulling on a loose string on the hem of your uniform sleeve, more, more, until you've almost undone the whole length of your wrist. When the thread breaks you want to hit something, for little to no reason, and you bite into your bottom lip.
You don't even know why you're so mad. You have a short fuse and you know that, maybe it's about Coryo. Maybe it's about your sleeve that's now slightly longer on one side.
You're drawn from your thoughts as Clemensia stands up from her seat next to Coryo, addressing Dr. Gaul who, as far as you know, had only been in the room for a minute or so. "Coriolanus and I do all our assignments together, I think it would be fitting for us to write up the proposal together too. I have some good ideas for things to be incorporated into the games along with betting." Your eyes roll so hard at this that it makes your head ache.
"I brought her a rose from Grandma'am's garden and she ate it. She needs food." Coryo tells you, walking alongside you down the hall.
"I'll get something together for her. Would you like to come with me to pick it up and then we can go to the zoo?" You ask, adjusting your shoulder bag as he holds the front door open for you.
"Okay. Are you sure you should come?"
"If you would like me to." You shrug, leading him in the direction of your parent's town car.
He thinks on it for a moment. Does he want you to meet Lucy Gray? You were technically also her mentor, even if you were taking a backseat. It struck him again, harder somehow, when he met her in person how similar she was to you. Besides the distinct accent, every word that came out of her mouth sounded as though it could have been written in a script by you. If you were district, that is. It was hard to wrap his mind around.
"I would." He finally answers, more so on impulse than resulting from his thought process.
You smile, linking your arm around his as you approach the vehicle.
"Then we can drop you at Clem's. if you'd like." You offer bitterly and he just gives a curt nod in response.
After getting your maid to pack some food for Lucy Gray with some extra for the two of you, assuming you would be gone for the evening, you got a ride to the zoo. The atmosphere was exciting, with people and children crowding the bars- this time including a few of your classmates. Sejanus, which you had expected, and Arachne- no doubt there to get attention.
"Lucy Gray!" Coryo called out, summoning the girl toward the two of you as you approached the bars marking the edge of the enclosure.
"Well hello, Coriolanus. You brought a friend, care to introduce us?" She smiles, looking between the two of you. Admittedly, you admire her poise, given the situation. Politeness in front of the cameras was a must- she's doing an exemplary job in humanizing herself.
"Lucy Gray, this is my friend Y/N Y/L/N. Y/N, meet Lucy Gray." He nods between the two of you and you reach through the bars to shake her hand.
"Hello. Pleasure to meet you." You smile at her, which she returns.
"You as well." She nods, clearly impressed as she looks between you and Coryo. You had decided back at your home to not introduce yourself as another mentor, just as a friend, after gushing the reaction to the other tributes thinking Lucy Gray was getting special treatment this morning when her mentor was the only one to show up. "Coriolanus, is Miss Y/L/N here your sweetheart?"
His face flushes red as he shakes his head, refusing to look at you. You laugh, not noticing his change in undertone as you answer for him. "No, no. Just a friend." You explain, digging in your bag for her food, wanting to quickly change the subject. "We brought you this." You hold out the napkin for her, containing a sandwich, a couple of desserts, and some plums.
"Oh wow, thank you!" Lucy Gray smiles, accepting it gratefully. "Hey, Jessup! Come eat." She calls out to the other tribute from her district, who you remember was assigned to Lysistrata Vickers.
He comes over, but doesn't acknowledge either of you as Lucy Gray holds out one of the dessert bars to him. "I'm not hungry."
"It won't do you any good to starve now. You need your energy." Lucy Gray insists, practically shoving it into his hand.
"I hope you like blueberry." You cut in. "It's a blueberry biscuit with pistachio filling. Made fresh this morning- I promise it's good."
He doesn't say anything, taking it and retreating to the rock he was previously sitting on to eat.
"Will you be sharing everything with him?" Coryo asks her quietly as he walks away.
"Why? So I can keep my energy up enough to strangle him? I don't think that will matter much in a few days."
"You can't trust anyone once the games start, so why trust them now?" You reply quietly, scanning over the other tributes, eyes landing on Arachne taunting her tribute. Of course she would- her arrogance never fails to impress you.
"Your friend over there seems just lovely." Lucy Gray says sarcastically, eyes following yours as you watch your classmate.
"Not our friend." You and Coryo respond at the same time.
"She's poison with perfect teeth." He continues and you nod.
"One thing I learned in twelve is that hunger is a weapon." Lucy Gray says. You're not sure what she means, but you nod anyway.
"Here, let's sit." You suggest, changing the subject as you crouch down to lay out a cloth on the ground to place the food on.
As you're laying it out carefully between the bars for Lucy Gray, you can feel Coryo's eyes burning into the backs of your hands. Lucy Gray notices this too, handing him a cookie from the pile.
"No, I couldn't." His default response. "You need it more than me."
"You were staring. Here, we'll share." She insists and he takes it gratefully, breaking off a piece and placing it in his mouth.
"Here..." You mumble, digging through your bag again and pulling out the glass container designated for his dinner. You place it in his lap, not giving him the chance to turn it down. "Packed it just for you."
He takes it off his lap, tensely getting up. "I'll be back in a moment." He tells you both, red uniform disappearing behind the small crowd.
"You can see it too?" Lucy Gray asks you, nibbling on half of a sandwich.
You nod slightly, eyes still trying to track him to see where he went, then landing on him talking to Sejanus who's desperately trying to get his tribute, Marcus, to eat some of the food he brought.
"He's quite sensitive about it." You explain. "I appreciate you being kind to him. No one else knows... I think. Regardless, you are very important to him."
She nods a little bit, watching you watch your friend. "Are you just buttering me up?" She jokes and you shake your head, returning your attention to the girl across from you.
"No, I mean it. It's more than the prize for us." You state. "Him." You quickly correct yourself. "I just want to help however I can, if you need anything else just ask, but I'll bring food every day. Or I'll send it with Coryo."
"Coryo, huh?"
"Well, yes. We've been friends for years."
"I see." Lucy Gray nods, both of you watching him make his way back over. You lift up his container of food and hand it to him before he even has the chance to sit down.
"What about you, Lucy Gray? Any friends back home? Family?" You ask, looking away from him as he sits. You want him to eat, but you know he would loathe you for watching, so you direct all your attention to her.
"I'm an orphan, just like Coryo here." She nods to him and his brows furrow at the nickname coming from someone new. "It's just me and the Covey."
"Covey?" You ask.
"Yeah, they're my family and we perform together. It's how we make our change."
"Well, you are a very talented singer. Jaws were on the floor in the Capitol during your performance." You smile. 
"I'm not one to go quietly, that's all."
"I'm not either." You agree. "I think we'll be fine friends."
Just at that moment, the three of you hear a scream that has you turning your heads as fast as lightning over to the source, catching the end of Arachne getting her throat slit by her tribute. You and Coriolanus are on your feet in seconds, running over to try and help her just as gunfire rings out, taking down her tribute for the crime of her murder.
You pull off your blazer, both you and Coryo using it to try and stop the bleeding, but you could tell it was no use. By the time you look up, the crowd of spectators was completely gone having rushed for the exits during the attack.
Just as you both realize it's no use, and that she's already dead, you're being pulled away by peacekeepers.
"Hey! Let me go right this second!" You shout, trying to pull away.
"You kids have to get out of here." One of them answers blankly.
"I have to get my stuff!" You complain, trying to wiggle out of their strong grip. "You want me to leave my knife over within reach too? Are you stupid?"
They stop, sighing as they let you go. "Thank you." You huff, readjusting your shirt before walking back over to where you were just sitting with Lucy Gray, quickly gathering your things but leaving food for her.
"Lucy Gray, are you alright?" You ask, seeing her lying on the ground a few feet away from the bars now, just getting up.
She just nods, the fear in her eyes starting to cease. 
"You're not shot?" You follow up with, looking over her at the same time she does.
"No, I'm fine. You go." She replies, standing up again and dusting off her dress.
"Thank god. Those idiots are awful shots!" You bite, looking back at the peacekeepers over your shoulder, Coriolanus now nowhere to be seen.
You stand up and pull your bag across your body, walking past them toward the exit as they attempt to guide you in the right direction. "Don't touch me!" You hiss, smacking their hands away.
"Coryo!" You call out, running to catch up with him in the academy hall the next morning. He slows down, glancing over his shoulder and stopping to wait for you.
"Y/N." He states, looking at you expectantly. 
"Shall we go see Lucy Gray today?" You ask, reaching up to tighten your ponytail that had come loose in your jog.
"No." He shakes his head, continuing to walk and you follow after him. 
"What? Why not? She needs us to bring her food, and we have to-"
"I'll discuss the games with her at the planned meeting this afternoon. You won't be going back to the zoo."
"Excuse me?" You ask, grabbing his arm to stop him in his tracks. "I know I'm like, your assistant, or whatever, but you will not tell me what I can and cannot do."
"It's too dangerous. They are dangerous." Coriolanus argues. "I won't have you ending up like Arachne."
He had been up all night writing his proposal for Dr. Gaul. It was the only thing that could get his mind off the death of his classmate, and off of you. What if it had been you? He should have known it was dangerous, it was his fault. It was his idea that the mentors get closer to the tributes and someone was killed. Arachne's blood was on his hands, and he was just relieved that it wasn't yours staining his uniform instead.
"No. No, she died because she was stupid." You whisper, looking around. "She taunted her tribute and handed her a knife, at that point it's natural selection. I am not her. I am smarter."
He stares down at you, scanning over your features as you beg him to let you continue to help. "You need me, Coriolanus. Admit that much to yourself."
"I don't need you," He spits back. "But I like you much better alive. You are the one person in this school I can stand, I won't lose you over something so reckless." He pulls his arm from your grasp and walks off.
You look around, seeing your classmates staring and you roll your eyes. "Take a picture or something." You say to no one in particular, prompting people to avert their eyes.
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