#The differences in their uniforms makes me think of one of two things:
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This is a topic that is very near and dear to my heart, but I'll try not to write too much about it right now. Elf gender studies indeed!
I go into this to the best of my ability in my giant Dungeon Meshi Essay (Real World Cultural and Linguistic Influences in Delicious in Dungeon) and there will be more detailed discussions of the subject as I complete each chapter. You can except a more comprehensive section on the subject in the chapters about the dwarves and the elves, with some minor mentions in other upcoming chapters.
Right now I have a very brief overview in chapter 3, in a section titled "GENDER, MAGIC AND SOCIETY IN DUNGEON MESHI."
Gender presentation and society is a topic that comes up in many small ways in Dungeon Meshi, despite never being directly addressed. It's difficult to discuss sometimes because a lot of it relies on:
Knowledge of gender norms across multiple real-world historical societies, and how gender norms have changed between ancient times and the modern world.
Lots of small clues Kui has left us.
Things which we must intuit from Kui telling us what isn't normal or good, without telling us what the actual socially desirable behavior is.
Cithis is a particularly fascinating case, and @dunmeshistash hits on multiple key points in their answer that I'll discuss once I get to the elf chapter. Sorry it's taking me so long to finish 😂
Before I go, I'll just throw this out there: these two outfits are considered unisex by the elves. These outfits are also very much like a "ethnic national costume," and other elven fashion seems to be based from this starting point.
To the elves, these tunics are like a plain T-shirt and denim jeans are to us today. Most likely every elf has one of these, and many elven outfits are built on a base that starts with this, including the Canary uniform.
Kui intended for the Canary uniform to be unisex, and worried that it came across as looking too feminine, but I think she did a fantastic job of designing an ancient world military uniform that doesn't just look exactly like something that exists in the real world, while still feeling plausible and grounded.
Ancient world clothing will always look feminine to modern eyes, because modern ideas of what makes clothing masculine or feminine is rooted in the cultural divide between the Greco-Romans and their barbarian adversaries, the eventual gendered division between dresses and trousers, and The Great Male Renunciation, where western men's fashion began to exclude the wearing of bright colors, patterns, and many other elements of fashion, which all then became associated with women's clothing.
The most masculine, macho dudes of the ancient world would look like "guys in weird dresses" to many of us today.
I would actually say that the feature that's the most unusual about Cithis and Misyl's clothing is their modesty. Kui tells us elves don't wear a lot of clothing, to the point that the queen goes around nearly naked at times. This suggests that Cithis and Misyl are counter-cultural rebels who wear their clothes in an unusual style. Cithis also wears much, much more makeup than any other elf, which makes her stand out as someone who doesn't care about what elven society thinks of her appearance. She's being different on purpose... And unlike Benichidori, she doesn't care if people see her without makeup. She's not trying to hide anything, she's trying to communicate something else.
I would say that Cithis' presentation, to elves, probably seems like a cis woman doing female drag. She's emphasizing her feminine qualities in a way that elven society might find tacky or distasteful - too much, too far. It may also be designed to target and appeal to other races, who have a stronger sense of gender binary... Since the Canaries do travel outside of the elven empire and deal with non-elves regularly.
So then, the gender-swapped Cithis is also dressed "modestly" for a male elf (knee-length tunic), and presenting himself in a more stoic, stern way. This may mean that Cithis is presenting an "overly masculine" male elf, like a cis man doing male drag. Stoic and aloof might be some of the things elves consider attractive in a man.
But because elves have such strongly unisex gender presentation, most likely the traits overlap, and many elven women also present themselves as stoic and aloof, and many elven men probably present themselves as smiling and coy. I imagine somewhere in the middle is what is considered "ideal elf-like behavior" for both genders, and deviating too much either way is seen as weird.
Anyway, time for me to get back to work 😊 I hope this is helpful for you, though.
cithis's overtly feminine presentation is so fun to me... the long dress and the cleavage window and the makeup and the fact that she's the only one who changes super noticeably in the genderswap is just . Idk its cool, esp with how androgynous all the other elves are
It is very cool! Cithis has a very overt gender presentation that we don't really see in other elves, even Otta who makes a point to present as male doesn't read as super masculine to the level of "hyper-feminine" that Cithis is
Elves seem to have their own fashion preferences independent of gender (from what we can tell from the gender swap)
Which makes sense, Lycion himself wears a very feminine hairstyle even in the original, so Pattadol also keeping the same hairstyle while she's a man is consistent! Meanwhile Cithis seems to be way more conscious of her own gender when dressing?
I wonder if presenting more feminine is more common than presenting more "masculine" for elves? Would a male elf dressed like Cithis be strange? I don't think Cithis is completely unique in how feminine she is cause we do see a few other elves with similar traits. Flamela has a exposed cleavage, Mysil has a long skirt, Daltian clan "Aunt Uranesse" seems very feminine with makeup and adorned hair, Cithis has it all at once but the pieces aren't unique I guess is what I'm saying
They say that for the most part there isn't much difference between male and female fashion but even here we have an elf in what we would call a "feminine" looking long dress
I wonder if those are things that male elves could wear without other elves finding it strange too 🤔
I wonder if there's an equivalent for "very masculine" in elf fashion, tbh I don't know what that would even look like, male Cithis just wears a very average looking version of the uniform (minus the boots and arm armor) even the neck piece is on instead of her choker. Otta does "dress like a man" to the point other elves get her gender wrong tho so there must be an equivalent? (besides the fact she wears the male uniform) Or maybe is her behavior along with the fashion that makes them read her as masculine and the fashion alone wouldn't?
Anyway it is very interesting!!! But I have no idea what to make of it!!!! Elf gender studies when
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐔𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐓—𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐢 𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧
now and then I reread the manuscript…one last souvenir from my trip to your shores…
description: small glimpses into your life with humanity’s strongest.
medium: a series of canon-compliant one-shots (mostly)
genre: fluff, hurt/comfort, angst, suggestive content
extra: moodboard | playlist | ☆:**:. 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐞 .:**:.☆
Feel free to #𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 (◕‿◕✿) *:・゚✧ if you have any scenarios in mind! I might not write everything but I’ll respond to everyone.
main masterlist
the underground—(no regrets)
# who are you again?
➴ let’s just say, the first time you two met, no one involved was impressed.
# who do you think you are?
➴ Levi's sharp tongue causes clashes between you two, leading to a heated argument over how to handle a negotiation.
# trust issues
➴ for the first time, everything that can go wrong does go wrong…but from this, something else happens for the first time too.
# the mediator
➴ tired of the constant bickering, Furlan devises a scheme to make you and Levi cooperate, which ends up with both of you trapped together…
# ace up her sleeve
➴ a routine job turns into a deadly standoff when you, Levi, and Furlan are cornered by members of a gang—lucky for them, you’re here to save the day!
# suiting up…
➴ getting intel requires a different set of skills, especially if you’re a woman with a sharp tongue.
# oh, how things change—or, the shift
➴ growth is forged in blood and trust. Months later, you and Levi navigate the changing tides of battle, leadership, and the unspoken bond that has shifted everything between you.
# the turning point
➴ the trio gets their hands on ODM gear, a decision that will affect their rest of their lives without them knowing.
# …suiting down…?
➴ it was a simple job, until Levi turned a simple mission into a collision of truths, frustration, and something neither of you could ignore any longer—or the first step in their relationship.
# love me, love me not
➴ vulnerability isn’t just rare—it’s dangerous. But between silences and stolen moments, Levi and you take the first, tentative step toward defining what you mean to each other.
# illicit affairs
➴ sneaking around has never been more fun.
# three’s company
➴ isabelle joins your little family as the annoying little sister nobody asked for, and brings a breath of fresh air.
# silence speaks volumes
➴ Levi doesn’t talk much, but actions speak louder than words—or three times Levi shows you he cares through actions.
# equal, opposite reaction
➴ when isabel comes home with her hair half cut and bleeding, you and levi have different ways to react.
# one perfect day
➴ you and levi find yourselves sharing a rare quiet moment.
# the proposal
➴ a job brought from a new client makes them rethink their whole life choices—retrieve a document and kill erwin smith, but is it worth it for a life outside?
# nothing in the world belongs to me…
➴ talks about life on the surface make levi think about the future for the first time.
# the heist begins
➴ the beginning to the rest of your lives.
p.s. side stories!
me before you—life in the underground was never easy, but it can drastically improve with someone by your side (or your friendship with furlan).
invisible string—five times you and levi crossed paths before meeting for the first time.
no second chances—when Levi's strict approach to leadership puts you in harm's way, Furlan intervenes to keep the peace.
…maybe?— there’s no way levi has feelings for you, but seeing you like that? well, there has to be another reason why his throat goes dry and his hands can’t seem to stop shaking.
all the little things—levi finds you teaching isabel how to use ODM gear.
four men in uniform—Erwin finds hope for the scouts in the body of four kids from the underground.
joining the survey corps—(life on the outside)
# fish out of water
➴ the transition to life outside the underground is difficult, especially when you feel like Levi is pulling away—lucky for you, your friends are there to make sure you’re having fun!
# foreign skies
➴ Shiganshina is…overwhelming to say the least, but for the first time, the sky feels endless.
# home, is home, is home
➴ falling asleep has never proven more difficult.
# i remember it all too well
➴ in which you and levi see snow for the first time on the outside.
# liquid gold
➴ this is the first time you have enough money to gift levi something of value, let’s hope he likes it sweet!
# no regrets
➴ the mission that will change their lives for the better, but is it hubris or a self-fulfilling prophecy when everything that can go wrong, does go wrong?
# the day after
➴ life seems bleak now that the group of four, has turned into a group of two.
# sacrifice
➴ putting your life on the line for someone you love is a no-brainer, Levi disagrees.
# midnight rain
➴ as ambition and unspoken feelings clash, their relationship hits a rough patch—can they find their way back to each other?
# parallel lines
➴ you and levi keep moving up the ranks.
# …but my love, is mine all mine
➴ in the quiet of a dimly lit workshop, Levi offers you something more than survival—a promise he’s too stubborn to say out loud: I’ll fight for you. Always.
p.s. side stories!
no training required?!—four cadets join the survey corps without training…who might they be and…are two of them married?
through the storm—erwin notices the strain in your relationship with levi, but sees it as a strength rather than a weakness.
chain reaction—hange becomes fascinated by your strange dynamic, trying (and failing) to get either one of you to openly admit their feelings.
when you’re not looking—levi gets jealous as some other recruit has his eyes on you.
original timeline—(aot canon)
# the job we never did
➴ having not done anything during the fall of wall maria, seeing all the refugees proves to be more difficult than you had anticipated—especially when wall maria reclamation operation is set to begin.
# subject of ymir
➴ a reckless chase leads to a chilling discovery—one that could change humanity’s understanding of Titans forever.
# a small win for all
➴ the Scouts’ first Titan capture is a success—but the true battle begins when the Titan is brought back to base.
# trial by fire
➴ when the Armored Titan shatters Trost, the Scouts are forced to turn back—in the midst of it all, the reader’s squad is tested, thrust into the fire where leadership means not just giving orders, but standing at the frontlines when hope feels lost.
# new developments
➴ the struggle for trost, albeit from being far from over, has alread proven to be one of the most memorable battle’s humanity has ever encountered—and not for the reasons one might think.
# rest
➴ victory comes at a cost. As she shoulders the burden of leadership through blood, smoke, and loss, Levi finds her in the dark of the night—not to offer grand words, but a silent promise that she’s not alone.
# trials and trepidations
➴ amid fear and suspicion, Eren’s trial becomes a battlefield of words and loyalties. As tensions rise, your voice stands firm, defending the boy who could save humanity.
# new allies, new questions
➴ there’s nothing better to do than cleaning duty, especially after a gruelling battle.
# the moment of truth
➴ finally something exciting happens when eren’s experiments begin and sawney and bean are found dead.
# your worst nightmare…
➴ even with everything set in place, many things can go wrong outside the walls—the appearance of a new abnormal might be one of them.
# …has come true
➴ the 57th exterior scouting mission goes by and it’s a close repeat of what happened in that first mission all those years ago, what’s the point if the outcome is always the same?
# overworked, underplanned
➴ the appearance of a new “conscious titan” poses new questions and the necessity of new strategies.
# female titan: part two
➴ a grand operation is set within the walls to try and capture annie leonheart, but since when is victory this bittersweet?
# little playthings
➴ as the looming threat of a breach in Wall Rose grows ever closer, the appearance of intelligent Titans sends shockwaves through the ranks. With each passing moment, the line between humanity and its predators blurs, revealing a sinister truth: if the walls are the pen and humanity the cattle, then these transforming Titans are the shepherds, herding their prey with cruel intent.
# the rescue
➴ once again the Survey Corps have to ride into the heart of despair. Saving eren comes at a devastating cost, but with losses mounting and enemies closing in, humanity’s fragile hope rests on the brink of a grim revelation.
# meetings and more meetings
➴ in the aftermath of the battle for Wall Rose and the mission to save Eren, you find yourself drowning in responsibilities. As the Scouts grapple without their leader, refugees, and rising tensions, every meeting feels like a battle of its own.
# civil war: part I
➴ pastor nick’s death proves to be the begining of a bigger conspiracy—and for the first time ever, the enemies aren’t the titans but the rulers.
# civil war: part II
➴ as the Survey Corps battles the First Interior Squad in the streets of Stohess, the fight for humanity's future moves from the shadows to the open.
# requiem
➴ in the ruins of the Reiss chapel, two opposing forces fight for control of humanity’s fate.
# give a little bit
➴ the night before the battle with the Beast Titan, you and Levi find solace in one another—because you both know not everyone will come back.
and more to come...
p.s. side stories!
between the lines—levi writes you a letter during a long campaign, something he’s never done before.
whispers in the barracks—sasha and the younger recruits gossip to try to piece together the truth based on small moments they see.
unspoken—petra’s quiet admiration for Levi grows into something more, but as she observes him, she begins to realize that love often hides in the smallest gestures. Unspoken feelings, loyalty, unrequited love, and what it means to truly care for someone.
so long, goodbye—i’ll see you when i see you, i’ll meet you on the other side. (still not sure how this would work out? maybe her squad was divided and half was sent with mike? idk)
epilogue—(life post rumbling)
# second firsts
➴ living a civilian life isn’t easy, especially when Levi struggles with his injuries—but together, you begin to rediscover the joy in life’s simple pleasures.
# life after
➴ as the world rebuilds, you and Levi take a rare trip to see the ocean. A moment that feels like the closing of one chapter and the beginning of another.
# a taste of the past
➴ Levi surprises you by preparing tea the way he used to in the Underground, a small gesture that reminds you of how far you’ve come together.
# wings and leaves
➴ you and levi finally open a small tea shop in Marley, and you watch as he finds joy in a simple life he never thought he’d have.
# finally
➴ the time has come to make one of the most difficult decisions in your relationship, knowing it might mean the end of it—even after everything.
# sweet nothings
➴ small, mundane moments between you and Levi as you try to build a life together.
# would it be enough?
➴ in a quiet, post-rumbling world, Levi grapples with his injuries while you find ways to support him without making him feel like a burden—based on peace.
p.s. side stories!
timeless—after everything is said and done, you and levi decide to stay in marley, gabi and falco become staples in your home, what do they see?
to you, sixty years later—a young girl brings a family book to show-and-tell day at school.
#𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 (august)#𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭#𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐓 ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚✧#𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬.。.:*¤☆#important#levi ackerman x reader
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So it looks like Order Sol's body suit thing very probably covers his entire upper body up to his neck, unlike Ky's Holy Order uniform that has a shoulderless undershirt.
However, Ky's sprites don't have the bare shoulders either and the bare shoulder shirt has shown up consistently in illustrations since at least GGX.
Although, that bit of lining that goes around the openings on his undershirt are there on the sprites. It might be a case of a detail being left out to make the sprites easier to read at their scaled down size.
There are so many subtle differences between Ky's and Sol's Holy Order uniforms. I wanna make another post about that some day. But, for now, this is all I have because I need to get work done and thought it was interesting enough to share since I was looking up HOS references for a piece anyway.
#photopost#The differences in their uniforms makes me think of one of two things:#Sol hated all the flowy layers of the official uniform and had a custom one made that fit tighter around the chest#(he definitely at least custom ordered the upper body undersuit since the nails are RIOT brand)#Or there are different types of near-similar uniforms for the Holy Order soldiers to chose from#Maybe it's because everyone seems to fight differently in GG so people would need clothes that fit a certain way to keep it from-#-negatively impacting them in combat#Who knows! I'm probably reading into this too much lol#Daisuke never drew Order Sol consistently and the non-palette outfit differences between HOS and Ky might not mean anything at all
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very minor thing I still definitely deserve a medal for:
being raised catholic, and now as an adult repeatedly falling in love with characters that fandoms like to declare catholic, but still managing to reject those headcanons because at heart I'm too much of a stickler for accurate analysis to get behind them when i know the person in question is really meant to be anglican/episcopalian/whatever other flavor of christian
i am being, as the poets say, so brave about it
#i dont wanna list examples bc this is just a lil vent post im not looking to make this pop up in any tags & insult anybody#bc tbh some of the worst offenders are absolutely top-tier favorite characters of mine with woefully small fandoms#& the LAST thing i wanna do is be rude about or discourage anyone who posts about/writes for/discusses them#just because i happen to have trouble getting on board with one part of their analysis.#but it does amaze me that this Keeps happening#talk about resisting temptation#& for the record when i say 'raised catholic' i do not just mean christmas and easter catholic okay#im talking 'college was the first time in my life religion wasnt a required subject' catholic#'virtually everybody i knew as a teen went to different single-sex high schools' catholic#horrible uniforms. strict nuns. classes interrupted for masses for even the minor holidays. joined choir for something to do-catholic#as an adult i still have friends & acquaintances who work in/for churches type-catholic#my mom actively tries to hide rosary beads & scapulars in my bags & car every time i come home catholic#(i dont even think most people know what scapulars ARE for christ's sake! & if they think they do they're probably picturing the wrong one#meanwhile i've got a routine list of hiding spots to check for them before driving away)#my point is.#if it made even a scrap of sense for any of these characters to actually be catholics trust me i'd be the FIRST one saying so#bc i know i could write the SHIT out of all the angsty repressed queer guilt religious trauma stuff everyone's drawn to it for#that's like the very least i could get out of having been up to my eyeballs in it for the first two decades of my life#but 99% of the time it just doesn't track w/ what we know about them at all im sorry.#im sorry your moodboard yearns for stained glass saints#im sorry your fic hinges upon a flashback to a certain sacrament#but im just not buying it
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i think some ppl dont understand the difference between being full on consciously bigoted + going out of your way to harass a minority and someone who heard phrases from their friends and family while not actually holding any ill will towards whichever minority
#i was both best friends with a black girl in middle school and also had my sister showing me racist videos and stereotypes#did it make me say things that i totally shouldnt have and didnt know i shouldnt say? for fucking sure- regardless i still never personally#saw her as bad or less than or anything at all. it probably helped that my childhood friend was filipino bc i was already exposed to#different people. its like the whole words vs actions thing. ppl would say words to me and i would parrot them thinking i was being#funny like my brother or sister but ultimately i never saw anyone as different than me and never really treated anyone differently either#i was a child who didnt understand the weight or meaning of things i parroted and trusted those around me to know better#since i was literally a fuckin' child. thats kinda what they do. and no one ever really countered me if i did something wrong?#there was one time in like 2nd grade where i had just come from a really christiany catholicy school to a different better cooler school#that was less oppressive and DIDNT require me to participate in church shit and wear a uniform-#and i was still not very exposed to black people at that time yet#so when i was in second grade there was a black kid (different person from my friend in middle school) and we were sitting at a table#and i was just kinda making an observation like 'you're black!' not a negative thing just like 'oh! i understand what this is! i know what#this is ive heard of ppl like this before and maybe met one or two black ppl previously!' lmao and then i followed it up with 'like martin#luther king!' bc he was probably one of the only black ppl i knew about and i literally learned about him when i visited the school for#the first time to try it out in first grade and then apparently everyone thought i was being super offensive??????????????????#??????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????#i dont really remember the details and my gma remembers an entirely different thing so idek whats the truth but thats how i remember it#going down. i wasnt trying to be rude or offensive i was just like 'oh you're this! like this person ive heard of! neat :)!' and apparently#it got interpreted as a really bad thing that i said and idk. that was probably one of the weirder experiences i had growing up#like maybe its not always fun to be known for the minority you are bc of a famous person whos of the same minority...?? idk#i still to this day dont know what i said wrong really. i just wasnt exposed to very many black ppl#i knew of like one black girl once at a gymnastics thing i did sometimes and we were friends and i was a tiny tiny child all of this#happening way before 2nd grade and all i remember is her dad and my dad talking and me going to her fancy house to swim in her pool#once. and then i stopped doing gymnastics for whatever reason. so i wasnt exactly super exposed to black ppl frequently.#esp since the christianty-catholicy school was full of rich white kids. and so was my neighborhood at the time.#so i wasnt trying to be mean or offensive to this guy in 2nd grade but it got interpreted that way and then everyone treated me different#bc ig they thought i was a certain way bc the teachers were overreacting a bit. i have no idea. i really just think that one white#girl just liked to bully me and didnt actually have a good reason why and im tired of trying to humor ppl thinking its bc i was a bigot 😒#like i wouldnt be surprisedif nowadays that how she tries to justify it but NONE of what she ever did was calling me out or anything#it was ALLLLL treating me different for being 'weird' in her eyes. but i digress.
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Moon Starves Sun (FULL VERSION)
Dark!Gojo Satoru x reader
Word Count: 5.8k
Part one: Sun Eats Moon
Part two: Earth Kills Moon
(Warnings: forced relationship, implied nsfw content, implied noncon/dubcon, dark content, implied baby trapping)
When Satoru's close like this, he can hear your heartbeat.
It's been a while. Ten years. An entire decade. Everything about this is different, yet so familiar. He feels like he's finally reached the shores, feeling the warm sands underneath his feet. Like he's been given his favorite food after being starved for years. Everything melts. Everything except for you.
He'd like to stay like this forever, listening to your rabbit heartbeat, feeling your soft skin, but for your sake, he pulls himself off you. Lying on a wooden desk probably isn't that comfortable.
Your eyes are shut. Your breathing is shallow. You're so pretty like this under the moonlight. Your clothes are barely hanging onto your body. He can see every mark he's left on you. Part of him wants to make more, but he'll let you off the hook for now. He's nice like that.
"Still with me?"
Your eyes flutter open. You don't respond, but at least you're not crying anymore. He can work with that.
"C'mon, pretty girl," he says, voice soft, "let's piece you back together."
The belt left lines on your wrists. He'll kiss them better later. For now, Satoru collects your clothes and heels from the floor, placing them on the desk. He helps you reclasp your bra, runs his fingers on your arms when you finish buttoning your blouse. It's a quiet affair. Every so often, he'd catch your eyes. You don't let yourself linger for long. Satoru finds that a little cute.
You say nothing when he wraps an arm around your waist, guiding you out of his office. Maybe you're still dazed, still gathering yourself back up, because you don't struggle as much as he predicted. You try to leave his grip when the two of you reach the lobby. He's quick to stop you.
"Where, do you think you're goin'?" He grips your wrist when you take a step away.
You look at him, eyes shimmering like water.
You swallow. "My apartment. I—I need to go back—"
He clicks his tongue, bringing you back in.
"We can get your stuff later." He tells you with a grin. "let's just go home, tonight. I'm exhausted."
You open your mouth. Satoru waits. You say nothing, and he thinks you're starting to get it.
The moon is a dusky red tonight. Satoru thinks it's an ugly color.
☾
If Satoru could describe you in one word, it would be: predicatable.
Normal, boring, a speck in the crowd—none of these are bad things. Just like how much of the universe is nothing, you're an empty void, too. Not everyone can be like him. From the minute he was born, Satoru was destined for greatness—a prodigy, heir to a millionaire conglomerate, the Sun itself. His life isn't written on his forehead for everyone to read.
You are the exact opposite. Completely unassuming. He practically knows everything about you without even having to ask.
Like how Satoru can instantly tell you've never been over to a boy's room before.
You've probably never even been in a relationship before him, either. Even before he managed to corral you into his arms, you were always so annoying about the other things like school and friends. Though, you don't really have much of the latter anymore. His fault, Suguru never fails to remind him.
He watches as your eyes linger over his shelf: the numerous trophies and awards. You're still standing meekly in the corner, still garbed in your school uniform, clutching your backpack. He has to roll his eyes at how obviously you're trying not to look at him.
"What're you waitin' for?" He finally asks. You jump, eyes flitting over to find him before you find the floor. He resists the urge to roll his eyes again.
It's not like you two haven't done shit before. You sucked him off twice now, and he's finger fucked you against the bleachers. You should really stop being such a prude.
"C'mere, pretty girl."
You comply, dropping your bag, making your way to the bed. When you look at him from beneath your lashes, warily expectant, Satoru feels a thrill rushing through his body.
He's always been impatient. It's in his nature to take. He nips at your mouth, eager to taste your soul from your soft lips. Soft. Everything about you is so soft—Malleable beneath his fingers.
Satoru didn't explicitly say what his plan was, but you aren't stupid. He can tell you know what's about to happen when you stiffen in his hold, turn to stone within his grip. He would've allowed it if you hadn't gripped onto his shirt, pulling yourself away from his feasting.
"Satoru?" You whisper, still leaning away. "The door...?"
Annoyed, he glances over. His room is open. It shouldn't really matter.
"It's fine." Satoru tells you. "No one's here." No one's ever here.
You still look panicked, hands gripping his shirt. Satoru finds that adorably pathetic. How helpless you are. How that's all because of him.
He's sure to make a big show of it. Satoru gives a dramatic sigh, slumps his shoulders, but eventually pushes himself off the mattress to push at the door. He even clicks it shut. He's too nice, sometimes.
"Happy?" You nod, you don't look very relaxed but your shoulders have dropped a bit.
Satoru doesn't feel too guilty pushing you down, not when you're already in his bed. He isn't known for his patience. He tastes your skin, leaving marks when he can: teeth bites. He pushes you down down down down so he can sink his teeth into your flesh.
You're asleep and under the covers by the time he's done. The moon's out too. Satoru watches it, largely unimpressed. It's so tiny, a sliver of glowing white.
And then you shift, turning ever so slightly, enough to catch his attention. He should probably kick you out and send you home. That's what he usually does. When he gets into bed with you, draping his arms around your limp body, he convinces himself it's because he's tired and waking you up would be too much of an effort.
He lets himself enjoy your warmth; it's nothing like the cold glow of the moon.
☾
Sometimes, even Gojo Satoru wonders if he's dreaming.
Sometimes, life is too perfect for him to realize it is real. Everything falls perfectly in place, fitting together like those jigsaw puzzles his caretakers used to distract him with halfheartedly.
You're in his kitchen, chopping vegetables.
It had already been a few weeks, but he still wasn't used to this. You, being in his home, in his kitchen, in his bed. Satoru thinks he's masking it well, but his mind is still reeling, it's a difficult adjustment.
Not a bad one.
It's like he's been drowning for years and he can suddenly breathe when he sees your toothbrush next to his. It's like he's been stabbed and waking up to your sleeping face is the aloe. It's like he's been suffering through a blizzard, and you cooking in his kitchen, humming a song he doesn't know, is the warm sunny day.
Things have changed since he brought you home. His home doesn't feel incomplete anymore. As though the apartment itself has agreed that this is where you belong. There are more clothes in his closet, more shoes by the door. The space is ever so slightly less empty and it fills him with tangible relief. He can cook a meal, but it's still nice coming home to something warm already made.
It makes Satoru wonder what things could have been like, had it not been taken away from him.
You flinch when he wraps his hands around your waist, nestling into the space in your shoulder. You hadn't heard him come in, apparently. Regardless, you don't linger, fingers hesitating before resuming your task. He finds this part of you adorable. Ignoring the thing that makes your heart race, as though he'll just fade away into the shadows.
It's his ego that makes him slink into your warm skin, making sure you know he isn't going anywhere.
"Smells good," he says.
You nod, pushing away the bell peppers in favor of the onions. Unlike him, you acclimated extremely well. It'd taken nothing to lightly push you to add more and more stuff from your apartment to his. You quietly moved from one setting to another. He remembered this trait of yours from high school. Go with the flow.
Though, perhaps, it was less out of genuine apathy. Satoru doesn't have to say what will happen to you if you refuse him. He doesn't have to throw lectures about his family and the influence he has on you. He likes that you aren't stupidly brave. He likes that you're meeker, quieter. You pick your battles.
But he thinks he'd like to see you crack, just one more time.
"Hey," he says, "let's go out for dinner tomorrow night. There's this restaurant just out of town that has great shrimp cutlet."
He expects you to nod, like you always do whenever he decides to do something impulsive and meaningless. Instead, you bite your lip.
"I can't." You mutter after a minute of silence. "I have work. Mr. Higuruma just closed a deal and—and I think I'll be coming home later and later this week."
Home. It's enough to make his heart flutter. It's the first time you've called the apartment that. Your words almost make him forget about the second thing you said.
Higuruma. The lawyer guy with dead eyes. Satoru remembers him. He always looked at Satoru like he was a child, too stupid to do anything. He never liked how the guy looked at you. Besides, he was way too old for you, never mind that you were taken. You were always taken.
"Oh, right." Satoru gives an exaggerated sigh, fully leaning on you. "Work. What a shame."
You nod, clearly thinking the conversation is done with. Satoru wasn't so charitable.
"Y'know, you don't really have to work. Not anymore, pretty girl." His grip on your waist tightens ever so slightly as he pulls you towards his chest. Your hands freeze. The knife glints in your fingers.
"I make plenty of money. You should just stay home. That way, you don't have to work shitty hours."
You stiffen underneath his fingertips. He's disappointed when your skin turns frigid. When he peeks over your shoulder, intent to look at your face, there's a nervous smile twitching on your lips.
"I don't think that's a good idea..." you trail off hesitantly.
"Hm?" He tilts his head with faux confusion. "Why not?"
The knife moves up and down, as though you can't decide whether to place it back on the cutting board. Satoru realizes it's your way of fidgeting.
"It...it would just be unprofessional to leave when everything is so hectic." You finally decide on.
Satoru scoffs. "So? Who cares. I'm sure everything will work itself out. Just rely on me, pretty girl."
You don't like the answer, but you don't make a comment on it. Satoru just watches you rotate the knife in your hands. He wonders if you want to use it on him. Slice at his neck, leave him out to bleed on the pretty tile floor. Cut straight through his heart, ending it quickly.
Or would you like to carve out his eye and keep it as a souvenir? He thinks he'd happily let you. It sounds romantic.
You don't do anything. Instead, you pull back your shoulders as if you're physically ready for war.
"'Toru," you say gently, softly, and it works in his eyes, "I...can't let you support me like this. It's not right. It's not like we're married or anything." You laugh, like it's a joke. Satoru doesn't cave.
"I mean, not yet." Satoru rocks you back and forth in his hold. "But gimme' some time to shop for a ring, okay? It needs to be perfect for my perfect girl."
You follow his movements. He can see your mouth twitch out of the corner of his eye. Your eyes get glassy.
He knows he's terrible, but he really wants you to crack.
"You're right, Satoru." You say, "I'll put in my two weeks tomorrow." He grins in delight.
"That's a great idea, baby." Satoru kisses you on the cheek.
Right, you pick your battles.
☾
Satoru tells you he loves you, and you're gone, not even three days later.
He breaks and shatters into pieces he'll never be able to put back. Each day without you is torture. He feels like a corpse, just going through the motions. His clothes feel looser. His skin doesn't feel like his own anymore. Every time he looks in the mirror, he sees someone he barely even recognizes.
It's like you left with his heart.
No, you ran away with his soul.
One day, you were Satoru's, safely tucked underneath his arm...the next, you just weren't.
His parents don't acknowledge it beyond casual disgust. Every time Suguru talks to him, Satoru can barely comprehend it. Days pass by. Everything reminds him of you. His bed feels emptier; he hates it when he reaches out to the space you used to take up and finds it cold. Your locker remains untouched. Nothing is ever the same.
Satoru tries looking for you, but you're untraceable. No social media, no friends left to tell where you went, not even your fucking parents know where you are.
You left him.
You left him to rot.
Denial comes first. It can't be. You wouldn't. You wouldn't fucking dare. Anger seeps in the next. For weeks, Satoru can only imagine what he'll do when he finds you. He'll break your legs this time. He'll squeeze your neck so hard that your head pops. He'll kill you over and over again until your corpse is begging to be forgiven. And he won't ever stop, because you're Satoru's.
That doesn't stay for long. He feels himself get weaker day by day. Food tastes like dirt on his tongue. Any of his earlier vices are gone.
He misses you.
Why wouldn't he? You were his everything.
Like all things, it passes. You aren't there to fuel the flames, so the fire wanes in his chest. The ache in his heart gets smaller and smaller. Things keep him busy. College. Then, his new position in the office.
Ten years pass. He’s forgotten what you look like. But he remembers parts. Every so often, he sees a flicker of you within someone else. Your eyes are on another woman’s face. Your lips on a girl's smile. It irritates him to no end. It’s even worse when he starts seeking them out, keeping those parts of them for just the night.
Sometimes, if he closes his eyes, he can still hear your voice—what he thinks is your voice—soft, needy Toru Toru Toru.
“Gojo, sir?”
He blinks. Ijichi stands in front of him. Satoru looks down at the meticulously crafted pages.
“Mr. Higuruma needed you to sign this,” Ijichi lifts a paper filled with bureaucratic bullshit he pays other people to understand.
Why did Suguru take off now?
“Sure sure,” Satoru says, “I’ll get it done.”
Ijichi shifts nervously. “Well, it’d be best to finish it right now, Sir. His paralegal is just about to leave the building.”
Oh, right. The lawyer’s assistant. Gojo could never get a good look at that person, but the assistant resembled a shaking deer to him at most times. He’s not even sure if they’ve ever talked to each other, but he always found the other a bit odd. Big eyes. A shaky expression.
It was a little annoying to look at.
☾
Some executive was throwing an office gala, and since he is Gojo Satoru, he needed to come along.
And since you are Satoru's, you're dragged along too.
Honestly, the only upside to this is you and that new dress he bought you. A velvet turquoise dress that he can't take his eyes off of. The gold jewelry draped across your neck makes you even more delectable. But his favorite part of the outfit is the shimmering diamond ring.
The ceremony hadn't been anything extravagant. He'd just booked out one of his favorite restaurants, ordering lobster and sweet wine. He remembered hearing his heartbeat when he bent down on one knee, opening the elegant ringbox, like an oyster revealing its pearl. Looking back, he didn't know why he was so nervous: it's not like you'd say no.
"What do you think of it?" He asked when you were back in his bed, bare from everything except that glistening ring.
"It's pretty." You spoke, perfectly nestled in his chest.
He feels in his heart when he hugs you, a small kiss in your hair. You say something, but he can't hear it; he is too preoccupied with feeling you in his arms. It's still so new, even after all these weeks. It's the anxiety, knowing at any second you could leave and he'd be nothing. He won't allow that, he can't.
"I thought about something else, y'know?" He speaks quietly in your hair. "Ropes, chains, maybe. I could keep you here, forever. But—but then I realized how sad you'd get. I couldn't go through with it."
You give no reaction. When he tilts your chin up to get a better look at you, your eyes are glassy.
"You get that, right?"
You nod. He's really too nice, sometimes.
He spends the entire evening with you, tucked away in a corner, away from prying eyes. Just because he has to be there doesn't mean he has to be sociable. Every time someone walks up to him and you, a drink in one hand, he resists the urge to bite their head off, feigning politeness. He complains about their lack of decorum to you multiple times throughout the night, his head resting on your shoulder. You pliantly sit there, listening and nodding.
About ten minutes after the last board member left, someone else walks up. By then, Satoru's patience has mostly declined. He peers over with disdain before he can really process who he's seeing.
"Suguru!" He waves over.
You stiffen, and Satoru remembers you haven't seen him in ten years.
Suguru walks over with an easy smile on his face. He's nicely tanned, and Satoru is reminded of the pictures he sent over of the Maldives. Maybe that's where the honeymoon should be.
"Had fun slacking?" Satoru asks with a grin; Suguru shrugs.
When his eyes meet yours, he feigns delighted surprise. Suguru speaks your name with practiced shock. It's imperfect, only Satoru can see the amusement dripping from his fangs.
"Long time, no see!" Effortlessly, Suguru corrals you into a hug. You follow, giving into the cold touch of affection before pulling away back to him.
"Hello, Geto." You say when you're rightfully by his side again. "It's nice to see you again."
Suguru laughs, light and airy. "You as well!" He looks at your hands, tilts his head. "Oh? Congratulations, you two! When's the date?"
"Eh, we'll figure that out later." Satoru gives a quick kiss on your cheek. "Everything happened so fast, y'know? Us reuniting and everything: It feels like fate." Suguru's eyes flash. "Let's not rush this. We'll take our time."
Suguru nods along thoughtfully. He's looking right at you, and you stare right back. Not used to feeling left out, Satoru is quick to intervene.
The conversation is light, two long-time friends reuniting after a long spell. You stay quiet like decor, settling into Satoru's side. Suguru doesn't acknowledge you after that.
"We gotta' go. It's getting late." He eventually says, tugging you along.
Suguru gives a pleasant smile. "Of course, of course. We should catch up sometime." He directs this at you. You give a strained smile before Satoru leads you off.
"Suguru." The man turns. Satoru grins.
"I loved my gift. Thanks, man."
Suguru's smile is catlike.
"You kids have fun." He calls out right when Satoru's dragging you away all over again.
You're silent. Not in the way you usually are, pliant and cute. You're thinking. He gives you a nudge.
"What's goin' on in that pretty head of yours?"
You shake your head. "Nothing." And then you say, "He's changed."
From your view, Satoru supposed that's true, but really—
"Nah." Gojo shakes his head. "He's just dropped his act."
Satoru's hand was wrapped around your waist when you two ran into him. You hadn't noticed him yet, eyes fixed on the floor. The lawyer hadn't changed since the last time Satoru saw him. That dead expression, those creepy eyes. Higuruma's eyes flit over your figure, before he finds Satoru's.
He stares. Satoru stares right back. Something gives, and the lawyer calls out your name.
"How are you?" His tone is cool, and this is another reason why Satoru can't stand him. The guy has no tells. He's just a talking robot.
Unlike you, fidgeting by his side, practically vibrating with nerves.
"I'm fine, sir." Your smile gets more painful to look at by the second.
Your voice earns you a tired smile, a mild pinch of humor. Higuruma shakes his head, waving you off.
"No need for formalities. We aren't at work." His smile drops just a bit, as he watches you for a bit more, eyes flickering to your hand. "I was...surprised when I saw the announcement. I didn't know you and Mr. Gojo were involved."
Satoru grins, making himself known like a shark in the water. His grip on you tightens.
"Oh, you didn't tell your boss 'bout us, baby?" He looks down at you with cruel mirth, pinching your cheek. You wilt. "We go way back—highschool sweethearts. Lost contact for a couple years. It's actually thanks to you we were able to find each other again. We'll send you the invites." He presses a kiss to your hairline.
Higuruma hums at that. Satoru expected jealousy in his eyes; he's even more upset when he finds none.
"I'll be sure to save the date."
Then he shuts Satoru down completely.
"I heard about your resignation. It's sad to see you go," Higuruma says.
You nod, but you don't look at him. "Satoru and I talked about it, and we decided it's best if I focused on other things."
"Very, very busy, this one nowadays." Satoru interrupts. "Between wedding plannin' and all that."
"Is that so?" Higuruma says dismissively, "in any case, you already knew this, but I've begun preparations to start a new firm." He reaches into his wallet, pulling out a card. "I always thought you were good at what you do. If you ever want to get back into the industry, call me."
You take the laminate slip with a quiet thank you. Satoru feels blue turn into red.
When Higuruma slips into the party, Satoru tightens his grip on you a little harsher than necessary. He's dragging you through the halls. Behind him, he can hear you stumbling over your heels, begging him to slow down. He knows he should care, but he doesn't. That damn lawyer. Those dead eyes. Mocking him.
"Did you fuck him?" He asks when his anger has reached a high enough peak that he presses you against the wall.
Your eyes are wild, flitting back and forth. He'd your expression a little cute if he wasn't feeling like a furnace, at the moment.
"No. I—we never." You say. "Mr. Higuruma was my boss. And—and he's married—"
"Really? 'cause you're precious 'Mr. Higuruma' was eyeing you up and down like he's already seen what's underneath."
"'Toru." You plead. "Let's—let's just talk about this at home. Please? Let's just go home." Home. You said that word again. If he were a better man, he'd melt, but he's not.
"Shut up." He spits out. "Hike up your dress."
You stare at him. Then, you try to smile, like he's making a shitty joke. It wavers on your lips.
"It's...we're still in public." You whisper and it's so cute you think he'd actually care about that. "We—we can't...we shouldn't—"
"Baby." His voice drops, as he licks at your neck. "Pull up your dress, get rid of those panties. Otherwise, I'm just gonna take it off myself."
He doesn't need to explain anything further. You already get what he's saying. Right now, Satoru doesn't care if you leave this building with your clothes intact.
He thinks the worst part is that he knows he's being unreasonable. He's backing you into a corner where you'll have no choice but to surrender, and he knows that, but he keeps thinking about those man's eyes and how he looked at you and it was just all so much.
He'll apologize to you later, with flowers and shiny gold earrings. He'd give you the world; just be good for him now.
He just needs his fix. So just be good for him now.
☾
When Satoru discovers it's been you all along, he feels like an idiot.
In a pathetic way of defending himself, he convinces himself there's no way he could have recognized you. You're so different compared to your high-school self. 18-years old, fresh-eyed, naive. The you now is all grown up: a mature voice, a new hairstyle, clothes he'd never even think you'd wear.
It also didn't help that he couldn't even see your face since you turned away every time he looked at you.
Embarrassing. He's just glad Suguru wasn't here to call his blunder.
He thought about it a lot. He spent an hour in his office, pacing around, doing nothing but thinking and thinking and thinking. Part of him wants to corner you already. He can already feel your rabbit heartbeat on his fingertips, the look you always had in your eyes when he was right in front of you. Part of him wants to ruin your life the same way you ruined his. He wants to tear you apart, piece by piece. Leave you in tattered pieces.
But he can't do that. Satoru still loves you.
You left him a hollow shell. Broken. Tainted. There are pieces of him he still can't find. He should hurt you. He's hurt other people for doing less. But they weren't you. Even after all those years, he's never quite stopped loving you.
But he wants to sate his bloodlust, just a tiny bit.
His perfect opportunity comes where he, the lawyer, and you are all sitting in one of the waiting rooms. The lawyers explaining something, possibly about the ongoing case. Satoru doesn't really care. Besides, this is what Ijichi's here for.
He waits until everyone is quiet. You're unassuming. By then, your shoulders have lowered, like you think you've gotten away with it
"Hey," he says, "do we know each other?"
The other two don't bother, but you stop completely. The pen in your grip shakes. Satoru resists the urge to laugh.
You timidly glance up like you're still delusional enough to think there's a fifth person he's talking to. Satoru has always been told his eyes are like two suns: bright and intense. He lowers his glasses. You wilt under the solar flares.
"Hm?" He prods, enjoying the way you shrivel. "Have we?"
You swallow, glassy eyes flicking from side to side. Finally, you clear your throat.
"No." You mutter, voice barely a whisper. "I don't think we have."
"Are you sure?" To intensify the magnifying glass, he leans closer, like he's examining you. "'cause you look really familiar."
To his delight, you chew on your bottom lip. He can imagine biting it until it's bloody and raw. He stops just when you're about to shatter completely. Breaking you too soon would take the fun out of it.
"Oh, wait. I don't think that was you." He relents, pulling back and he can see the relief ooze over your face. "I think I got you mixed up with someone who interviewed here a couple months ago. My bad. Maybe you have one of those faces."
You nod, eager to take the out.
"Yes," you quickly say, "one of those faces."
How adorable. You haven't changed since high school.
He's usually not this obvious, but Suguru isn't here to berate him about it and it's not like anyone else will get on his ass. The women he brings in are his usuals: tall models with full lips and perfect bodies. Satoru parades them around like expensive jewelry. He wants to see you seethe in envy, stew in it. He wants you to see what you abandoned.
But you don't do any of that. You just sit there, like the dutiful little workbee you are, right by your boss's side.
And then, you give one of them your jacket. Satoru can't stand it wrapped around her waist like she fucking owns it—own you. She wears it so flagrantly, like any token from you shouldn't be worshipped and coveted. He hates it. He hates it.
"I've never done this in an office before." She squeals when she shuts the door behind her. "So, how do you—"
"Get out."
The girl pauses. What was her name again? Satou was too pissed to give a single shit.
"Um, what?"
"What, you deaf or something?" He waves her off as if he weren't seething. "Get out."
"Oh," she says, blinks, and then she takes a step back.
"Wait." Satoru stops her.
"Take that off." He points to your jacket. She does it with zero complaints. When he tells her to drop it on the chair, she follows that too. Reluctant expectation. Kind of like you. Maybe that's why he was initially invested in her.
He only takes the fabric after she's gone. It's soft underneath his fingertips. Nothing designer, but good quality. When you're finally underneath him again, he'll buy you better clothes, all the jackets you want.
He needs you. He can't wait anymore.
He needs you, whether you want him or not.
☾
Satoru wakes up to something crashing.
It's faint, obviously coming from the bathroom. Not the best way to be woken up. He remembers the first few nights he brought you home. He'd hear you crying in your sleep, choking on tiny sobs. It was the sweetest little thing, like a whimpering puppy.
These noises are a little more concerning.
He yawns, sliding out of bed. You didn't bother locking the door. You didn't even close it all the way, either. A sliver of light comes from the crack before he pushes it open.
"Baby?" He calls. You don't answer.
You had knocked over a caddy. Toothbrushes, hairclips, soap dispensers, perfume bottles were scattered all over the floor. You're curled up in the corner of the bathroom, huddled right next to the tub. You seem physically okay, no blood, no bruising, but he can't see your face. And you're shivering.
Satoru's about to call out to you, when he steps on something. He looks down at the tiles.
A positive pregnancy test.
"I'm not keeping it." Your voice is hoarse, like you've been crying for hours. "I'm not keeping it."
"Pretty girl." He coos, trying his best to keep the glee out of his voice and failing. "Let's not worry 'bout that, right now. C'mon, let's get you off the floor." He reaches for your hand. You smack it away. It stung.
When you look at him, eyes bloodshot and brimming with angry tears, Satoru's heart skips a beat. He feels like he just trapped a wild animal, making it pace in a corner. Any wrong move could result in his hand getting bit off. It's scary.
He's finally cracked you.
"Fuck you." Your voice shakes and wobbles, but it's loud and you're clear. "Fuck you. You're a sick, twisted man-child. You ruined everything. You ruined my entire life and—and now you—"
You're cut off by his giggling. It sounds psychotic even to his ears. He's beyond caring. You flinch when lifts your face up, forcing you to look into his eyes. He's smiling so hard it hurts.
"Yeah, I did that. I ruined you. I ruined your entire fucking life. For me." He stresses, squeezing your face so hard you try to pull away. "But I had to. You—you wouldn't be here if I didn't." He sighs, pressing your body to his. "I need you."
You're both huddled on the bathroom floor, captive and lover. He's clutching you to his chest, smiling, nestling his face in your hair. You don't say anything for a while.
"I'm not keeping it." You whisper. "I'm not. I wouldn't stand it if it ended up like you."
It's spiteful. You're still in that phase where you think your venom can hurt him, as though he'd see your blows as anything but blessings. Satoru thinks to his own childhood. Where he was given everything, lathered in gold and silver. Yet, the house was always cold. But you were always so warm.
"That won't happen." He tells you. "'cause you're here."
Your anger has dwindled to smoke. Maybe you've finally realized how crazy he was for you.
"Please let me go." It's not a beg. It's not even a request.
"I can't," he honestly says.
"You won't." You correct him.
He smiles in your hair.
"No baby," he says, "I can't."
If you ran away again, if you escaped his claws, he'd probably die. Drop dead, rot on the floor. He needs you. Even more than he needs food, water, and oxygen. You won't understand that. You've never been in love before.
You don't fight him. If anything, you sink into his hold. He's there to catch you, heart soaring. You lean into his chest
"I hate you." You whisper. His heart beats a little faster. It's probably the first time you've ever been so honest with him.
God, he loves you.
"I hope our baby has your eyes," he says.
"I hope our baby looks exactly like you."
You say nothing, but when he leans down to kiss you, you finally kiss back. You're cracked, and your essence is ready to be molded in his image, just like he's always wanted you to be.
If Satoru is the Sun, then you must certainly be his universe, the plane in which he rests, because there would be no existence for him if not for you.
#yandere#yandere jjk#dark jjk#dark gojo satoru#x reader#yandere gojo satoru#yandere x reader#dark content#implied smut#dark gojo satoru x reader#dark jjk x reader#reader-insert
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My Favorite Cheap Art Trick: Gradient Maps and Blending Modes
i get questions on occasion regarding my coloring process, so i thought i would do a bit of a write up on my "secret technique." i don't think it really is that much of a secret, but i hope it can be helpful to someone. to that end:
this is one of my favorite tags ive ever gotten on my art. i think of it often. the pieces in question are all monochrome - sort of.
the left version is the final version, the right version is technically the original. in the final version, to me, the blues are pretty stark, while the greens and magentas are less so. there is some color theory thing going on here that i dont have a good cerebral understanding of and i wont pretend otherwise. i think i watched a youtube video on it once but it went in one ear and out the other. i just pick whatever colors look nicest based on whatever vibe im going for.
this one is more subtle, i think. can you tell the difference? there's nothing wrong with 100% greyscale art, but i like the depth that adding just a hint of color can bring.
i'll note that the examples i'll be using in this post all began as purely greyscale, but this is a process i use for just about every piece of art i make, including the full color ones. i'll use the recent mithrun art i made to demonstrate. additionally, i use clip studio paint, but the general concept should be transferable to other art programs.
for fun let's just start with Making The Picture. i've been thinking of making this writeup for a while and had it in mind while drawing this piece. beyond that, i didn't really have much of a plan for this outside of "mithrun looks down and hair goes woosh." i also really like all of the vertical lines in the canary uniform so i wanted to include those too but like. gone a little hog wild. that is the extent of my "concept." i do not remember why i had the thought of integrating a shattered mirror type of theme. i think i wanted to distract a bit from the awkward pose and cover it up some LOL but anyway. this lack of planning or thought will come into play later.
note 1: the textured marker brush i specifically use is the "bordered light marker" from daub. it is one of my favorite brushes in the history of forever and the daub mega brush pack is one of the best purchases ive ever made. highly recommend!!!
note 2: "what do you mean by exclusion and difference?" they are layer blending modes and not important to the overall lesson of this post but for transparency i wanted to say how i got these "effects." anyway!
with the background figured out, this is the point at which i generally merge all of my layers, duplicate said merged layer, and Then i begin experimenting with gradient maps. what are gradient maps?
the basic gist is that gradient maps replace the colors of an image based on their value.
so, with this particular gradient map, black will be replaced with that orangey red tone, white will be replaced with the seafoamy green tone, etc. this particular gradient map i'm using as an example is very bright and saturated, but the colors can be literally anything.
these two sets are the ones i use most. they can be downloaded for free here and here if you have csp. there are many gradient map sets out there. and you can make your own!
you can apply a gradient map directly onto a specific layer in csp by going to edit>tonal correction>gradient map. to apply one indirectly, you can use a correction layer through layer>new correction layer>gradient map. honestly, correction layers are probably the better way to go, because you can adjust your gradient map whenever you want after creating the layer, whereas if you directly apply a gradient map to a layer thats like. it. it's done. if you want to make changes to the applied gradient map, you have to undo it and then reapply it. i don't use correction layers because i am old and stuck in my ways, but it's good to know what your options are.
this is what a correction layer looks like. it sits on top and applies the gradient map to the layers underneath it, so you can also change the layers beneath however and whenever you want. you can adjust the gradient map by double clicking the layer. there are also correction layers for tone curves, brightness/contrast, etc. many such useful things in this program.
let's see how mithrun looks when we apply that first gradient map we looked at.
gadzooks. apologies for eyestrain. we have turned mithrun into a neon hellscape, which might work for some pieces, but not this one. we can fix that by changing the layer blending mode, aka this laundry list of words:
some of them are self explanatory, like darken and lighten, while some of them i genuinely don't understand how they are meant to work and couldn't explain them to you, even if i do use them. i'm sure someone out there has written out an explanation for each and every one of them, but i've learned primarily by clicking on them to see what they do.
for the topic of this post, the blending mode of interest is soft light. so let's take hotline miamithrun and change the layer blending mode to soft light.
here it is at 100% opacity. this is the point at which i'd like to explain why i like using textured brushes so much - it makes it very easy to get subtle color variation when i use this Secret Technique. look at the striation in the upper right background! so tasty. however, to me, these colors are still a bit "much." so let's lower the opacity.
i think thats a lot nicer to look at, personally, but i dont really like these colors together. how about we try some other ones?
i like both of these a lot more. the palettes give the piece different vibes, at which point i have to ask myself: What Are The Vibes, Actually? well, to be honest i didn't really have a great answer because again, i didn't plan this out very much at all. however. i knew in my heart that there was too much color contrast going on and it was detracting from the two other contrasts in here: the light and dark values and the sharp and soft shapes. i wanted mithrun's head to be the main focal point. for a different illustration, colors like this might work great, but this is not that hypothetical illustration, so let's bring the opacity down again.
yippee!! that's getting closer to what my heart wants. for fun, let's see what this looks like if we change the blending mode to color.
i do like how these look but in the end they do not align with my heart. oh well. fun to experiment with though! good to keep in mind for a different piece, maybe! i often change blending modes just to see what happens, and sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. i very much cannot stress enough that much of my artistic process is clicking buttons i only sort of understand. for fun.
i ended up choosing the gradient map on the right because i liked that it was close to the actual canary uniform colors (sorta). it's at an even lower opacity though because there was Still too much color for my dear heart.
the actual process for this looks like me setting my merged layer to soft light at around 20% opacity and then clicking every single gradient map in my collection and seeing which one Works. sometimes i will do this multiple times and have multiple soft light and/or color layers combined.
typically at this point i merge everything again and do minor contrast adjustments using tone curves, which is another tool i find very fun to play around with. then for this piece in particular i did some finishing touches and decided that the white border was distracting so i cropped it. and then it's done!!! yay!!!!!
this process is a very simple and "fast" way to add more depth and visual interest to a piece without being overbearing. well, it's fast if you aren't indecisive like me, or if you are better at planning.
let's do another comparison. personally i feel that the hint of color on the left version makes mithrun look just a bit more unwell (this is a positive thing) and it makes the contrast on his arm a lot more pleasing to look at. someone who understands color theory better than i do might have more to say on the specifics, but that's honestly all i got.
just dont look at my layers too hard. ok?
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HEAR ME OUT
“Don’t you think I’m scary?”
“Scary? My god you’re divine”
AHHHHH
FuskqosnisisbssbjHWISNSKSOAOAKWAJ 😭😭🤭🤭😋😋
I love two lovestruck idiots who don’t know they’re in love w each other and it’s grumpy German shepherd x golden retriever 😻😻
PLEAAASEE german shepherd x golden retriever is one of my faaavvv tropes OAT !! it’s so so adorable and especially with katsuki cus i know he just thinks he’s so scary ! i got a lil idea after the recent manga chap that just came out, so this might be a liiiiiittle super small spoiler but i think its so cute ! hope you enjoy anon tysm for the ask ! much luv xxx
fem reader, super duper minooor spoiler but katsuki has stitches !, mutual pining, idiots in love, soft katsu (cus he has to be but also cus he’s whipped) (but hes still a little piece of shit) reader is a lil sweetie, short lil fluffy fic, touchy katsuki bc i cannot help myself, lmk if i missed anything else !
before the war, bakugou had made a lot of new little habits.
he’s made it a habit of waiting for you to head out of class so you could walk together. he’s made it a habit of sharing just a portion of his lunch with you, because apparently he’s constantly been making too much, ignore the fact that he only let’s you have those ‘extra’s’ that doesn’t mean anything.
he’s made it a habit of carrying around an extra water bottle with him because you always forget to keep yourself hydrated after training, he’s also made it a habit to scold you for it endlessly. he’s ruthless even as you whine about how mean he is, saying that “he wouldn’t need to be on your ass so much if you just remembered to grab your damn bottle.” he ignores the fluffy feeling in his heart and tells you to shut up when you tell him that he always has your back anyway, swiftly looking away from you and cheeks turning red.
and since you're on the way to his house, he's made it a habit of walking you home. you call it hanging out after school, he calls it 'just making sure you don't get lost somehow..hah ?! don't ask me how ! your dumbass would probably find a way to !'
anyway, he's made it his mission to grace you with his presence every day after school. you always bid him a cheery goodbye, "see you tommorow !" you say, and he always looks forward to it, even when he turns away, nonchalantly throwing you a quick wave over his shoulder.
usually you wake up at completely different hours, so he doesn't pick you up the morning. you always wished you could see him first thing in the morning, but seeing him waiting by the school gate's was more than enough to make your heart soar, you were more than happy with that.
but today you can finally go back to school. after dealing with non stop fighting for what felt, and probably was, hours and hours on end during the events of the war. and being stuck in the hospital for a few weeks, it feels nice to wear your school uniform and feel somewhat normal again. you'd get to see all your friends again and you'd official be a second year. you smile softly to yourself in the mirror.
katsuki had sent you a text a few minutes ago. he'd asked if you were almost ready, and you'd responded that you were only for him to leave you on read. you didn't mind much and shrugged it off.
but today, when you walk out the door, you see katsuki waiting for you on the sidewalk.
you blink twice, eyes widening. katsuki turns and looks up from his phone screen at the sound of the door he also blinks, although he's more unbothered then you as he simply stands up, pushing himself off his knees with a groan "took you long enough." he drawls. his eyes are warm and his lip twitch just the slightest bit at your expression "thought you'd keep me waiting forever."
"katsuki !" you exclaim, eyes still wide "what're you doing here ?!" you quickly walk to him, standing close enough to see the marks on his face, and the unmistakable stitches on his cheek.
he raises a brow like you're crazy, tilting his head "m'walking you to school."
"bwuh-are you even allowed to go to school ?" you sputter, realising he had his school uniform on, you liked it when he started making it a habit of wearing his tie more often. katsuki grumbles at your worries "shouldn't you be in the hospital ?" he scoffs at your fretting, but his eyes soften as he leans in closer to you. you see his battle scars better that way. you gulp at the sudden proximity, he's never been shy about getting in people's faces, although it was never meant to be intimidating when he did it with you, if the pink tint of his cheeks meant anything.
"doc said it's fine as long as i keep quiet.." he scoffs after finishing the sentence, rolling his eyes and causing you to giggle. hearing the sound he hadn't heard in what felt like ages made him sniff in amusement. you reach for his hand then, and he doesn't take his eyes off you while intertwining his fingers with yours. both your eyes shining with longing and affection for the other. you smile brightly at him and even though the doctors had told him to be careful with his heart, it seemed you were gonna make that hard for him. it didn't matter though, he was always up for a challenge.
pulling him along, you decide to tease him "guess that means you're gonna have to be on your best behaviour today, huh ? so you can't go gettin' mad at kaminari for no reason !" you playfully scold.
he rolls his eyes at the mention of your friend, though he doesn't hold back his smirk, he's definitely more open then he was compared to when you'd first started school. thinking about how far you've come together makes you happy, but it also feels bittersweet. "dunce face s'the who keeps pissin' me off, not my fault he can't handle it." you snicker and he snorts in amusement, squeezing your hand and making butterflies squirm around in your stomach. you don't mention the tight grip he has on your hand, probably because you're gripping his just as tight with no intention of letting go anytime soon. you probably look like a couple to the people walking by, you realise. and the thought does not displease you at all, far from it. it makes you a little too happy.
"behave." you squeeze his hand.
"i do." he growls, squeezing back, "he keeps trying me." you respond with a snort. your eyes occasionally fly towards his face, to the stitches on it more specifically. he's caught you looking multiple times on the way to the bus stop, not like you were exactly being subtle. your stare makes him nervous and he decides to finally confront you about it when you get to the bus stop.
"spit it out." he says, hands clammy in your grip, he hopes and prays you don't notice because it's so unbearably embarrassing to have to admit he was worried about what you'd think about his new look. he'd been anxious on your doorstep but you didn't give him much of a reaction, too shocked to even see him at the time, but your constant shifty glances made all the anxiety crawl back up again. so he speaks, keeping these distracting and frankly irritating thoughts to himself just irritated him.
you blink, humming curiously. katsuki grumbles to himself, keeping his eyes from yours. "ya keep staring at me, so what's up ?"
"it's strange seeing you with stitches." you answer bluntly. usually, he likes how honest you are, but right now it does nothing but stress him out. "i heard you messed your face up pretty bad, but i'm glad it didn't leave too much of a nasty scar." you muse. katsuki hums but his eyebrows furrow as he catches your last words, he's a little pissed off that you'd heard about what happened during the war. he'd wanted you to know as little as possible to keep from worrying you, or at the very least he'd wanted to tell you himself. he'll make sure to thoroughly question his fuckass friends later. of course, it also could've been her.
"..how'd you-"
"your mom told me."
he grunts. of course, it was his mom.
that damn hag..
"of course." he mutters bitterly. you don't respond, and to him that's all the answer he needs. a pit settles in his stomach.
"yeah, it's weird, isn't it ?" he agrees bitterly, unconsciously tightnening his grip on your hand. "it looks kinda creepy, right ?"
"what do you mean ?" his jaw tightens " i mean..like, on my face..." he sputter and mutters to himself, unable to properly say what he wants. you understand him though and immediately you turn till your face to face with him. your expression determined as you grab his other hand, both of his scarred hands now in your grip. his eyes widen in shock, embarrassment creeping up on him.
"there's nothing wrong with your face, katsu." you reassure, you'd made it a habit of calling him all those stupidly endearing nicknames, and it doesn't help taming the blush on his face slowly bleeding onto his cheeks. he pouts, fixing his gaze onto you and towards the floor.
"but doesn't it look..i dunno," he mutters, suddenly feeling self conscious "scary ?"
"scary ?" you tilt your head, he squints and looks away.
"i guess." he grunts with a nod, trying to save face. obviously it doesn't work by the look on yours. you're always so bubbly and sweet, he hates seeing such a pained expression on your face. you tug at his arms to get him to look at you "scary ? there's nothing scary about you.." you say sweetly, shaking your head. "i personally think you look really cool.." you mutter. katsuki feels his face heat, but his heart soars nonetheless. his eyes have been stuck wide for a second.
cool.
you think he looks cool.
"i was just wondering if they hurt ?" he tilts his head back in thought at that. instictively running his tongue on the inside of his cheek.
"nah, just felt weird when they were numbing it. but i didn't feel a thing." he shrugs, he suddenly smirks, the stitches being pulled up by the movement "wanna touch em ?" he teases, pulling you closer by the grip he still has on your hands. your eyebrows shoot to your hairline and he barks out a laugh.
"i-i can't do that ! what if i touch them and they come loose or something !" katsuki rolls his eyes at your jittering, using the hand still in his grip to bring it near his cheek, you desperately pull back and his evil smirk widens.
"katsuki, no !" you protest. he cackles meanly.
"it's fine." he insists, your pointer finger grazes his cheek and you turn your head away.
"i don't wanna !" you shake your head, your shoulders shaking as you hold back a giggle.
"yn. you're fine." he insists. he'd made it a habit of calling you by your first name after you'd started hanging out more. you called most of your friends by their first names pretty quickly into the year, your cheeriness making it easy for you to get along with everyone but you always were a little on guard with katsuki at first. he'll never admit it, but he was a little jealous that you'd call everyone in your shared friend group by their first name except for him. the sweet bubbly tone in your voice when you called for sero or kirishima made a nasty feeling bubble up in the pits of his stomach he'd desperately tried to push away. until one day he'd snapped during your group outing at the mall (outing he was coerced into going to by kirishima after finding out you where going too)
he'd regretted how whiney and bitter he sounded at the time, but he thinks it was worth it every time you'd look at him and say his name so sweetly, definitely worth it, as embarrassing as it was. and he'd started calling you by your first name too shortly after. all your friends do, but it felt so, so different with him.
finally your fingers make contact with the staples on his cheek. you peek up to look at him then. you run your fingers across them ever so softly, making sure not to hurt him. katsuki slowly let's go of your hand. unmoving and unnervingly still as you take your time scanning his face.
"so ?" he raises a brow, smirk slowly melting into a softer smile as he sees you smile to yourself.
"it's..not bad.." you tentatively start, still too worried to move too suddenly. he hums playfully. "and you don't feel it at all ?" you ask
"at all." he softly shakes his head. you don't realise you've gotten closer to his face but he sure has, and you end up realizing a little too late, but neither of you move away. you try to, but katsuki pulls you back in before you can get far. "do i still look cool up close ?" he jests, but there's some seriousness and vulnerability in his gaze. you smile warmly.
"yup," you say softly, you hear katsuki inhale sharpy, eyes never leaving yours "definitely still the coolest. not scary at all" you giggle, he rolls his eyes but chuckles. before you can question your positition or move away (or closer) to him you see the bus arriving in the distance. he notices it too and you share a look before you take a step back, smiling shyly at the floor while he keeps his gaze on the bus on the way.
until—
"OW, fuck !!"
your eyes snap up to see katsuki holding his cheek in his hand, your heart hammers and your eyes widen. you're next to him in two steps. "what, what—why-what happened ??!" you stammer, your hands reaching up to grab ahold of his face though you stutter, maybe it was your fault ?!
until—katsuki bursts out laughing. mean, but undeniably cute watery cackles that have you furrowing your brows in confusion until your jaw drops in realization.
the. asshole.
"you're not funny !" you whine, pushing at his arm although pushing might be the overstatement of the century. it could be more comparable to a nudge because even though he is an asshole, you wouldn't want to hurt him. even if he deserves it, you're better than that. you'll just think about hurting him.
katsuk chuckles breathelessly, grabbing your arm while you walk closer and stretch your arm out to signal the bus to stop. "it was funny, admit it !"
"you suck. you're the worst." scanning your bus ticket and walking ahead ignoring him, katsuki quickly scans his ticket and follows diligently behind you.
"you thought it was hilarious." he smirks.
"the absolute worst, the lowest of the low." you huff, ignoring the persistant heat of his eyes on you. he only snickers.
"i see you laughing."
today, you arrive to school with katsuki not at the school gates waiting for you, but walking together with you to start your new school year as second years. and you both hope you can make a habit out of this.
#thanks for the ask anon!#it was super fun to write and a fun way to come back from break !#bakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#bakugo fluff#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugou katuski x reader#katsuki x reader#bakugou x reader#bakugou katsuki#bakugou imagine#bakugou fluff#katsuki bakugo fluff#bakugo katsuki x reader#katsuki x you#katsuki x y/n#bakugou drabble#bakugou x you#bakugou x y/n
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You know what's so devastating to me about "God that I were a man"? It's the way that in this situation, Beatrice is not exceptional. In the first acts, she appears to be exempt from the gender roles that everyone around her complies with: she has avoided marriage so far, and she has license to playfully criticize and reject being "over-master'd with a piece of valiant dust" (2.2.55-56). She even suggests to Hero that she claim some agency over her engagement: "it is my cousin's duty to make curtsy, and say, 'father, as it please you.' But yet for all that, cousin, let him be a handsome fellow, or else make another curtsy and say, 'father, as it please me'" (2.1.48-51). Beatrice has carved out an existence for herself that everyone else tolerates; her wit allows her to live outside of people's expectations of womanhood.
But Beatrice is not exempt from being a woman. When it actually matters, when Hero is disgraced by powerful men with no regard for her wellbeing or humanity, Beatrice can't do anything about it. And "God that I were a man" is so painful because it reminds us--and Benedick--that no matter how transcendent Beatrice appears to be, she is still constrained by her role in Messina's society. Back in act one and act two, the reason that she was allowed to poke fun at men wasn't that she couldn't be stopped; it was that it didn't matter. She has no actual power to change the order of things, and so her verbal sparring is not a threat.
(An aside: I think that Benedick is taken aback by "God that I were a man" because this has never really occurred to him. He sees Beatrice as his intellectual equal, and he has watched her carve out space for herself effectively (they know each other of old). In the 2011 production with David Tennant, the costuming and acting choices show how Benedick starts actively performing masculinity only when he accepts Beatrice's request to kill Claudio--when he has to "be a man for [Beatrice's] sake" (4.1.314). In the first acts, he wears tight clothes, a crop top, and a miniskirt. From the wedding on, he wears his military uniform and then a suit. His body language also changes; he abandons physical comedy, stands tall, and emotes less when he speaks to Claudio and Don Pedro. He wields his masculinity as a weapon because he now realizes it's a weapon that Beatrice cannot wield herself.)
The crashing realization of Beatrice's limits is so devastating to me because it's so familiar. I can only speak from experiences I've had, but as a queer woman I know that tolerance is different than empowerment. That having grown up evading dating and romance with made-up excuses to hide my queerness, having realized the extent of the misogyny in an organization I cared about and having grappled with how that misogyny prevented me from effecting change, being allowed to exist is not the same as being able to participate, to make things different. God, that I were a man. I would eat his heart in the marketplace.
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The Summoned Demon Part 4
#Holiday Requests I would love updates to Child Support, The Summoned Demon, and Passion For Fashion
Danny had no idea where he was.
No one around him could understand what he was saying, and he couldn't read anything either. After running through the suburbs, Danny had made his way on foot into the large city. There was nothing familiar about where the cults had summoned him to.
Everything looked wrong. The clothes, the cars, the street ads, and even the people. He stood on the side of a corner, attempting to make heads or tails of his surroundings, but people passed by him like water in a river.
It must have been the fact he was covered in dirt.
Thankfully, a group of teens had been willing to stop his frantic shouting. One girl had snapped her fingers, then waved rectangular screens at him- What was that thing?- speaking into it.
The rectangular screen spoke in what he thinks is a different language, but not anything Danny could understand. Her face fell but she seemed determined to get him to talk into her rectangle. When he did, it gave her soft buz like the ones that are played on game shows where a constant gets a wrong answer.
The girl had looked at her companions, utterly lost, until one of them stepped forward and started playing charades. There were a lot of vague hand motions and desperate gestures when he attempted to explain his situation, and the children were able to direct him to the police station.
No one on staff was able to translate what he was saying. However, they did seem mighty alarmed by how he was covered in dirt and speaking a foreign language. They had given him some water and a change of clothes and sat him in a room with a two-way mirror. Danny felt safe knowing the authorities were on his side, sipping his water at the little table while he waited.
Time moved slowly when more and more police officers entered, attempting to establish communication with him. They placed a list of writing in front of him, each line a different symbol, and he knew they were meant to be a language.
The aging man with white streaks dusting his red hair adjusted his glasses, then pointed to the first sentence on the list. Danny said something slowly, patting his chest with an open palm, then pointing more determinedly at the line.
"Is that your language?" Danny asks, scanning the lines and realizing he can't read one. He shakes his head "I'm sorry I don't understand."
The old man frowns then stands. He places a chocolate bar on the table- or what Danny thinks is one, he can't read what it says, and it's quickly frustrating- before heading out of the room. A few more minutes go by when a man wearing one of the police uniforms but a long, more outdated one walks through the door.
Danny blinks up at him as the man carefully considers his face. He avoids looking at the bullet holes decorating the cop's chest. "Wow, you seem pretty young. Wonder what you did to get old Gordon to personally question you?"
Danny chances to look at the two-way mirror before muttering. "I didn't do anything, sir. I got kidnapped."
The man turns around, arms still folded over his chest, but the second he realizes the door has remained firmly shut, he whirls around, gawking at Danny. "You can see me?"
"Yes, sir. I'm half ghost on my mother's side." He jokes but still maintains a level of respect. The Fentons joked around often, but they always respected those in service until the person proved unworthy of the uniform.
"Holy shit!" The policeman laughs. "I don't think you can pass down the family tree like that kid."
Danny cracks a smile. "You be surpirse."
"Guess I am. Who knew I would be shocked twice after my death?!" The man's jolly laugh makes Danny relax just a little. He doesn't even mind that the ghost's heaving chest is splatting a few drops of red on the table. "Haven't laughed like that in years. By the way, kid, my name is Alex. Alex Anderson."
"I'm Danny Fenton." Danny smiles, offering his hand for a shake. Alex hesitates, reaching out only to have his face brighten when he makes solid contact and eagerly pumps their joint limbs up and down. "It's nice to meet you, sir."
"Pleasure is all mine." Alex claps his hands, settling- somewhat as he goes slightly through the metal- in the chair opposite Danny. He laces his fingers under his chin and offers another impish grin. "So what's this about a kidnapping?"
Danny straightens, rapidly recapping his last few days. Alex doesn't interrupt, listening with an intensity that tells Danny he's being taken seriously even if he's still smiling like there is nothing wrong in the world. When Danny is done, he has to take a breath and top off his drink as Alex considers his words.
"That's a rough couple of days, Kid," Alex says at the end, leaning more on his hands. Danny nods sadly, feeling utterly exhausted. He's not sure where the nice older man went, but no one had come to check up on him for a while, and he's starting to feel cagy.
Alex considers him a little longer before throwing his head back with a sigh. "Alright. I guess I need to help you escape. I feel too guilty if I just let Gordon hand you over."
"What?"
Alex stands, pretending to stretch his arms over his head. He nods to the two-way mirror, clicking his tongue at it. "Yeah, Gordon called Batman a while ago when they were trying to figure out your language. This place will be swarming with vigilantes and their magic users any minute now."
"Batman?" Danny repeats, rising to his feet. "What's Batman?"
"The guy who put you in that cave cage." Alarm fills Danny's veins as he realizes that this whole time, the police were setting him up to be returned to the cultist. Was the entire city in on this!? "Normally, I wouldn't be making deals with people Gordon deems unsafe, but given that you're half ghost, I've chosen to ignore my morals in solitary."
"But why?! Why would they give me back to them!?" He demands, rising to his feet and backing away until his back hits a wall.
"I was Gordon's first partner," Alex tells him, gesturing at his chest. "I died to make sure the idiot got back to his wife and kids. Ever since he's done everything he could to make Gotham safe. As much as Batman makes me uneasy, he is doing a good job cleaning this place up and doing what I can't do anymore. I'm trapped inside this building, but I've seen the bats plenty of times, so I know they are not dangerous. I also know they will not shoot first or ask questions later; this is your only chance to get away until you can establish communication. Take it."
Alex gestures to the wall behind Danny. "Can you faze through?"
Danny lets himself sink through the stone just as the door is kicked up, and three cops rush in with raised guns. He ends up in another interrogation room- because that's where he was. They had not placed him somewhere safe; they had set him up for capture- where a man handcuffed to the table screams. Danny apologizes desperately, trying to get the guy to stop yelling, as Alex yanks him by the collar of his shirt.
"No time for manners, Kid! You have to get out of the building. Bat's just landed on the roof!" Danny races through the walls, ignoring the people who shout and scatter at his sight until Alex leads him straight out of the building. The ghost stops behind a window, where chains had manifested and wrapped around him, preventing him from going forward.
Alex doesn't seem to pay them any mind as he points in a direction. "Head that way until you see a giant clown. The Joker is currently in custody, but there are thousands of ghosts in his old hideout. Someone is bound to know what to do. If that fails follow the road with the white bricks to Old Gotham. Lots of Magic rooted there. Maybe you'll find something."
"How do you know that?"
"My mom was a professional card reader. I inherited some of her ability to sense the paranormal, and trust me when I say Old Gotham always felt cursed." Alex pauses before tilting his head. "If you ever get to talk to Gordon, tell him I forgive him. And the key to our treasure is at our old hideout. Tell him I still love him even if he picked her."
Danny's eyes fill with water. "I promise."
"Good." There was a loud thump as a man in a trench coat raced down the hallway, aiming his glowing hands at Danny. Alex threw himself before the bright yellow beam, spreading his arms wide as he made a shield. For a second, Danny's vision overlaps with a similar image of Alex blocking a young redhead man in the same position. "Now go, Kid!"
Danny shifts into Phantom, flying at his top speed without further comment. Behind him, he hears someone with a British accent swear, and Alex's cries of pain nearly cause him to forge turn intangible when he flies through traffic.
There had to be some way he could find a living person who understood him
_____________________________________________________
"What happened?" Bruce demands as John pushes something in a jar. Since it looks like an impressive mime trick, he's fairly sure it's actually a ghost causing problems for the Brit.
"Bloody demon had help from a human soul," The blond grunted, grabbing at the air. "Stubborn one that seemed convinced it was helping a child."
"Why?"
"Hmm?"
Bruce feels his eyebrow twitch but remains impassive overall. Right now, he's Batman, and Batman does not let emotions cloud his mind. "Why would a ghost think it was helping a child? Demons can't hide their nature from paranormals. John, are we chasing a child?"
"Normally, I would say, yeah, the thing is a child, but this one isn't your average spook. It's powerful. You saw it, right? The demon shifted forms, and I couldn't even see its second form until the two bright rings of light. If it could fool me into thinking the human flesh suit was its real form, it can easily fool a ghost."
"If it's so powerful," Tim cuts in, walking towards the pair with a floating hologram from his wrist. The integration room security camera plays on it, displaying the demon calmly sipping water. "Then why didn't it escaped before? All it did for three hours before Gordon was alerted was wait."
John frowns at the camera, sealing the jar with a wax melt. "That is odd. Normally, things on that power level do everything, but be calm."
Bruce didn't like this. They had lost something powerful in his city; it had evaded detection only to waltz right into custody, where it had just as easily escaped. They had also confirmed that the demon was visiting the children previously offered to him as sacrifice.
In fact, when Steph interviewed her, the teenager insisted that the demon seemed lost and frightened.
First, there was young Jack, then Molly, who had attempted to help him with a translation app. The girl didn't seem to consider otherworldly language was untransltable. She behaved as if the demon with its harsh, raspy voice and chilling presence was not there to harm her.
Which one was the truth? His experts of the supernatural or the signs that the possible demon was dropping. That it was just a lost child terrified out of his mind?
Bruce had too many questions and not nearly enough to get any kind of answers. They needed to capture the boy again.
#dcxdpdabbles#dcxdp crossover#the summoned demon#holiday requests#Part 4#Bruce is starting to have doubts#Danny is actaully becoming scared#The Gotham Police are never on your side unless their gay#Gordon dead secert lover is still around#Danny guns it from the cops
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You will always be my Boot
Main masterlist | The rookie masterlist
Tim Bradford x FBI!FormerRookie!reader Fandom: The Rookie
Summary: You are a former FBI agent and come back to your roots after many years. Little did you know Tim waited for you all these years.
A/N: This is my first Tim Bradford one ever and I know I need some improvement in this police area. I'm thinking about making a part two of this. Anyways, let me know what you think. Have a wonderful day, bubs! Lots of love.
Requested: Yes Words: 2.5k Requests for Tim Bradford are open! GIF not mine, credits to the owner.
The flight was exhausting and the shitty bed from that cheap motel was even worse. They'd think an FBI agent would afford a five star hotel and a warm meal, instead of that reheated noodles you had last night, but LA is expensive as shit. One thing you didn't miss about this city were those self-centred Hollywood "stars" and the exorbitant prices.
You watched the time over and over again, shaking your foot nervously. You are ready to go, but you just can't gather the courage to face those police officers again. The bathroom light is dim and you put the blame on that for your horrendous bun, not because you lost practice. You redo the bun one more time and watch yourself in the mirror. LAPD uniform hugs your curves so perfectly and the overloaded belt accentuates your waist. You allow yourself to wear a small smile today, for the sake of old times.
The tranquility of the morning was shattered by the unmistakable sound of gunshots ringing out in the distance. Instantly alert, with your heart pounding in your chest as adrenaline surged through your veins, you grabbed your service weapon and badge, slipping them into your waistband as you hurried out the door and into the cool morning air.
As you made your way down the narrow staircase of the motel, the sounds of the gunshots grew louder, sending a chill down your spine. Stepping out onto the sidewalk, you quickly assessed the situation—a group of armed men engaged in a shootout with one another only a few blocks away. Confusion made its way to your mind; why would some people from the same gang fire at each other?
As you analyse their tattoos, some have it on their neck, some on their wrist, it snapped. You recognise those tattoos from your FBI files that lay on your motel bed, two different markings, two different gangs. Dangerous ones, wanted ones.
Without a second thought, you sprang into action, ducking behind parked cars and storefronts, you closed in on the scene, your heart pounding in your chest as you prepared to confront them. There's no time to wait for backup. And who'd you call anyway?
With a burst of adrenaline, you emerged from cover and sprinted towards the gunmen, your weapon drawn and ready. The element of surprise worked in your favor as you caught them off guard, their attention momentarily diverted as they turned to face you.
"Drop your weapons! FBI!" you shouted, your voice ringing out clear and commanding above the chaos of the shootout.
For a moment, there was hesitation in their eyes, uncertainty flickering across their faces as they weighed their options. But then, with a defiant snarl, they raised their guns once more, their fingers tightening on the triggers.
Time seemed to slow as the standoff unfolded, each moment stretched to its breaking point as you and the felons locked eyes, the tension thick in the air. And then, with a burst of gunfire, the situation erupted into chaos once more.
Bullets flew past you in a deadly dance as you returned fire, each shot ringing out like a thunderclap in the stillness of the morning. You managed to hit two of them, one in the shoulder, that dropped the gun and grabbed their wound in shock and the other one in the thigh, forcing them to fall into the ground. You didn't had enough handcuffs to secure them all, so it was your priority to stop them from running away until the officers arrived.
It's crazy to see how four rival gang members united to get rid of you when seconds before were about to blow their heads off.
"I said, drop your weapons, now!" you demanded to the masked one still standing, gunshots finally stopping. You didn't see any response or will to do so and that made you place aim for their legs as well, forcing them to collapse. "Hands behind your back, intertwine your fingers."
Before handcuffing them, you pulled up your phone and searched for that one number.
"Sergeant Grey" the voice on the other side responded.
"Agent Y/L/N, FBI. I have in custody two of Crenshaw and two of Tongan. I need backup and R/A. Crenshaw bulevard with W 66th Street." you informed Sergeant Grey.
"Copy that."
Not long after you made the call, three cars and an ambulance pulled up to the address you gave. The look on the officers faces when they saw you holding one handcuffed suspect and three injured on the street, was as satisfying as catching those. Adrenaline still coursing through your veins, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride wash over you.
"Y/L/N, FBI." you presented yourself to the officers, you showed your badge and shake their hands, each wearing a mortified expression after they heard your name. "After they're checked, let's get going. I'm late for my first day." you demanded and the six officers nodded as an understanding.
You could tell by the look on their faces, some of them are rookies. You can't forget those eyes, you had the exact same expression when you were a rookie and as Tim as your T.O. didn't help much.
"Agent Y/L/N." a serious tone came from just as a serious man. Sergeant Grey standing tall and imposing in the booking room as you walked the men to one of the benches and let another officer take care of him. As you approached the man, a big and friendly smile appeared on his face "It's so good to have you back."
"Good to be back, sir." you accepted his handshake with that small smile from the morning that you promised yourself you'd be wearing all day.
Your name was on everyone's lips as you walked through the station besides Grey.
It had been years since you last walked these familiar corridors, but as you made your way toward the meeting room, a sense of nostalgia washed over you.
"Is that Y/N?" one officer whispered to another, having the impression you didn't hear them.
"Yeah. Still hot. Heard she's working with FBI now." that remark made you turn your head in their direction, locking your eyes with one of them as he swallowed the lump in his throat and returning to his seat.
Inside, the meeting room was filled with the buzz of conversation as officers gathered for the morning briefing. All eyes turned to you as you entered, whispers and murmurs following in your wake. You could feel the weight of their scrutiny, their curiosity palpable in the air as they watched the former FBI agent return to their ranks.
"Good morning everyone. Sorry I'm late, had to take care of something so early this morning because someone doesn't sleep." he glanced at you and the murmur stopped when the eyes landed on you standing in the doorframe. "Take a sit." you nodded and sat down in the first row.
"Is that Y/N?" Lucy whispered to Nolan and Jackson. It was impossible to shake the feeling of being under a microscope, every move you made scrutinized by your colleagues.
"Hell, yeah, she is!" Jackson laid his eyes on you and gave you an appreciation smile.
As the sergeant launched into the details of the day's assignments and priorities, you found it difficult to concentrate, the weight of everyone's eyes on you making it hard to focus. But you pushed through, determined to prove yourself in your new role as a police officer.
"Today we made serious progress towards the gangs that won't let Los Angeles sleep in peace. Agent Y/L/N, first thing in the morning had in custody four men, almost as important as the gang leaders." your mind zoned out, you already knew that story. But what you didn't know and what's really eating you inside is that specific blond man.
In the corner of the room, Talia and Angela exchanged knowing glances, their whispers barely audible over the sergeant's voice.
"Can you believe she's back?" Angela muttered.
"I heard she was with the FBI," Talia replied, her voice tinged with curiosity. "Wonder what brought her back here."
"From an FBI agent to an officer? Seems like a joke to me..." Lopez paused as she looked at Tim for a moment. "Maybe something bad happened. Maybe she did something bad." the excitement of her voice was unquestionable.
Meanwhile, Tim Bradford watched from his seat at the front of the room, his expression unreadable as he observed the scene unfolding before him. Memories of your time together as rookie and training officer flashed through his mind, the bond you had shared still lingering despite the years apart.
"I heard she was the best rookie this station ever had. And it was his rookie, can you believe that!" Angela's mind was focused on one subject and one only. She is more than convinced that something has happened between you and Tim.
"Almost 100 on every exam and she was the only person this grumpy smiled to!" Talia added, making Tim shift uncomfortable in his seat, his eyes not letting the sight of you even for a second.
"That's not true. And I'm not grumpy, I do smile..." Tim responded to their feminine gossip, something he's not doing too often. He still thinks it's a waste of time this kind of conversation and one's personal life is no one's business, but maybe, maybe he wants to know more about you. "Sometimes"
He was wondering as well what could've possibly had happened to make you come back to LA, knowing very well how much you hated the city and how much you suffered the moment you stepped on that plane.
Tim's heart was below the sea's surface, buried inside the burning hell somewhere since the moment he caught a glimpse of your siluete walking around these hallways again. His hands were sweating and the lump in his throat could swallow him.
But you were nowhere far away from that feeling either. All the feelings from back then were coming alive faster than the light-speed and the memories of the time you were his rookie, the looks, the touches, the sweetness of his words alongside the glances from your colleagues made your eyes fill with bittersweet tears. You had to raise your head a little and blink as fast as you could to make those tears disappear and take a few deep breaths to calm down. You have to put this feelings aside. Now.
As the meeting drew to a close, Sergeant Gray turned his attention to you, his gaze lingering for a moment before moving on to the next item on the agenda.
"You're dismissed and be safe out there!" Gray closed the meeting and everyone rushed to start the day.
You waited for everyone to clear the room, mostly because you hate crowded places and people jostling around. You kept your head low, already full of everyone staring. When the room cleared just enough, you wanted to make your way to Sergeant Gray's office when a big, warm hand landed on your shoulder, freezing you on spot.
Some time ago, you knew by heart every single trace and curve of that hand, and now your mind doesn't disappoint you remembering it all with just a blink. His breath winding down your spine as minty as always.
You hated him. You hated yourself. Damn, you hate everyone and everything this moment.
"Y/N." his voice was as overwhelming as always and it made your feet weak. It made you weak and it hit you hard right into your bones. You didn't think twice and as you raised your chin up high and faked a confident expression, you turned to your heels to face him. Once and for all. "I can't believe you're back."
"Tim" you nodded, greeting him with a smile. This time a genuine one, wider and more powerful than the one you had forced yourself to wear all day. Not a forced one, but one that you found you couldn't hide. "It's been a while." you cleared your throat and searched his eyes.
They were staring right into your soul with the same spark and love you've missed so much. It seems like you've never changed, seems like everything is just the way it was. Like he was your TO, teaching you, teasing you, caring for you, having your back and you were his rookie, learning from him, turning into the best version of him, making him proud.
The air between you crackled with unspoken tension as you struggled to find the right words to say. The spark that had once ignited between you still burned bright, despite the years and distance that had separated you.
"How are you? How's Isabel?"
"Uh-Yeah..." he paused for a moment, the light in his eyes fading. "We separated a few months ago."
Tim wished this words would hurt more admitting them in front of you, would hurt just as much as he hurt you. But it didn't. That wound is almost healed, making room for another one to open.
"Oh, Tim. I'm so sorry" you were sincere, though not with all your heart. You knew it must've hurt like hell having in mind how much Tim loved his wife. But at some point he loved you too. Maybe not as much as her, maybe more, maybe less.
"But I'm fine, yeah. It's past now." he cracked a smile, resting his arm on the table as close to your thigh as you could feel its warmth. "What about you? Making an entrance for sure. Catching those guys from Crenshaw and Tongan, impressive. I taught you well." oh, he knows what he's doing and watching your shield breaking before his eyes, he's delighted.
"Oh, don't be so cocky—"
"Why are you here? Why now?" he asked. You rested your hand on your belt and raised an eyebrow as a response to his questions.
"You know I can't tell you." he sighed at your words, realising just now maybe the things are not how they were. You are not as open to him or talkative as before. You are not in love with him as you were before. But he's not done trying yet.
"Dinner tonight?" Tim was bold for sure and his question took you by surprise. You weighed the answer, but before you could say yes, he continued "I can't lose the chance again. I can't lose you again, Boot."
"Okay, yes!" you pushed your finger into his chest "Stop making those puppy eyes, you know I can't resist." he laughed and before you can walk away, he grabbed your waist and kissed your forehead gently. His lips lingering on your skin few more seconds, memorising your sweet scent, trying to remember it, like if he could ever forget.
"It's good to have you back, Boot!"
"Stop calling me 'Boot'!" you fought back, annoyed, but he enjoyed every moment. He missed you like hell and now all of this is hitting him hard in the face like a... boot. "I'm not your Boot" you persisted.
"Oh, you'll always be my Boot!"
#Tim bradford#the rookie#tim bradford x you#tim bradford one shots#tim bradford the rookie#tim bradford imagine#tim bradford x reader#tim bradford imagines#it's so goo to have you back#tim#bradford#lapd#the rookie one shot#the rookie imagine#the rookie x reader#john nolan#lucy chen#angela lopez#talia bishop#jackson west#tim bradford x y/n#tim bradford x fbi!reader#tim bradford x rookie!reader#tim x reader#tim imagine#tim one shot#tim x you#tim x rookie!reader#tim x fbi!reader#you will always be my boot
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Oscar was frozen to the spot. It took him a few seconds for his brain to catch up with what he was seeing, but as soon as it did, he saw red.
Warnings: this is a heavy one guys, army!oscar and army!reader, non descriptive sexual assault!!!, I tried to describe it as vaguely as I could so no details, I feel like this is obvious but just in case the SA is not with Oscar, angst, kinda hurt/comfort, then some pretty freaky smut, I despise the very concept of the military but I'm a whore for a man in uniform so… here we are, vaguely based on that one episode of ‘Lie to me'
You and Oscar were very competitive. Everything from punctuality to training exercices were a chance to one up each other.
He was taller and stronger than you so it made physical challenges his area of expertise.
But you were more agile, more analytical, and a definite asset to the team.
You loved a man in uniform, but Oscar was just so insufferable not even the way his broad physique filled out his fatigues could save your opinion of him.
He was cocky, arrogant, and hated being wrong.
You bickered constantly, and the only reason your fights never got physical is because neither of you wanted a dishonourable discharge on your records.
You were always out on missions with your squad, and right now you were in Afghanistan.
Your sergeant was a different kind of man.
Nice, but a little bit creepy, would sometimes walk into the female locker rooms without announcing himself…
But he was always sweet to you. He was exceedingly polite, and never made any passes at you. He never made you drive the front convoy car, even though everyone was supposed to take turns doing it.
Which in a way you were grateful for, given that it was the most dangerous position to be in, even though it was a bit unfair to the others. You’d heard rumours, but he never did anything to you.
Until today.
Your last day before returning home.
The temperature in your tent was stifling that afternoon, so you'd gone off to a local spring that was surrounded by walls of rough rock to cool off and relax after a stressful few weeks.
You were in shorts and a sports bra, nothing indecent in case one of your fellow privates came along.
And the sergeant had apparently followed you there, because as soon as your outer layers were off, he sidled up next to you and put his hands on your hips from behind, making you jump.
“Hello, beautiful”
“Wha-” You tried to turn around and push him off, but he was too strong and pinned you against the rock face.
You struggled, but he quickly insured you couldn't call for help by putting a hand over your mouth.
“I think it's time to repay me for my generosity over these past few weeks, no?”
You were stuck, body pressed between him and the rocks, and you felt utterly helpless against his tall muscular frame.
…
Oscar was looking for you. He wanted to apologise to you after your brief argument earlier. He'd been a bit of a dick and you called him out, nothing out of the ordinary.
He was rehearsing what he wanted to say in his head, because despite the two of you always being on the verge of hating each other's guts, you pushed each other to become better, and he wasn't going to lie, he did have a bit of a soft spot for you.
Which is why when he turned the corner and saw you and the sergeant pressed together, the first thing he felt was intense jealousy.
But the way you seemed to be squirming in his hold, and the way he was holding you down sent a jolt of adrenaline through his body.
He didn't even think twice, he sprinted over and dragged the other man off you, throwing him on the ground easily.
The half-second glance he spared you told him everything he needed to know. You were on the verge of tears, and there were a couple of scrapes and bruises forming on your skin.
He turned and stalked towards the man on the floor.
You were so shocked at the sudden turn of events your legs gave out and you tumbled to the floor with relief.
Your eyes filled with tears and you turned away to get your clothes, but your body didn't respond.
You were forced to watch as Oscar straddled the sergeants waist and landed a well aimed blow to his nose, breaking it instantly.
“What the fuck do you think you were doing to her?!” he hissed, anger seeping from him in waves.
“None of your business, Piastri” the other man said, earning him another hit.
“Don't you ever touch her again, you hear me?”
The sergeant tried to spit at him but Oscar just landed another, much harder punch, this time knocking him out.
He stood up with a snarl, landing a hard kick to the man's ribs for good measure, and made his way over to you.
You were curled up with your knees tucked under your chin and tears still blurring your vision.
“Are you okay?” he asked tentatively, crouching down in front of you, a hand hovering somewhere near your arm, unsure if you were okay with being touched right now.
You didn't want to appear weak, and you didn't trust your voice so you simply gave him a swift nod.
Unfortunately the movement dislodged a few tears, which fell down your cheeks.
His heart broke.
“I'm sorry, that was a stupid question, really” he sighed at himself “Let's find your clothes and get you back to camp, then I’ll contact-”
He was looking around for your clothes and you couldn't help it, you surged forwards to wrap around him in a tight hug, almost knocking him off balance.
He took that as a sign that he could touch you, and held you in his arms, cradling you gently as you sobbed into his shirt.
You don't know how long you stayed like that, but it was long enough for the air temperature to drop as the evening rolled around, and a chill ran down your back.
You shivered and he helped you grab your clothes before heading back together, leaving the sergeant unconscious on the ground.
He stuck by your side all through dinner, keeping an eye on you as you ate your meal in relative silence while the others chatted away about their excitement of getting back home, not noticing that the mood was very different at the other end of the table.
You looked so downtrodden, Oscar didn't think twice before asking “Do you want to stay in my tent tonight?”
It was a bit of a risky question when he thought about it, but to his surprise, you nodded immediately and smiled at him sheepishly.
“If you don’t mind… I don't want to be alone in case… well…”
He smiled and put an arm around your shoulder. “I understand, don't worry”
…
His tent was the same as yours, but somehow it seemed much smaller because of the mess that was in it.
Clothes (uniforms) and bags were strewn everywhere, and for some reason he had two sleeping bags.
“I get cold easily!” he whined defensively when you asked him about it.
You smirked. “Aw does little Osc need a hot water bottle to keep him warm at night?” you cooed mockingly.
He rolled his eyes at you and slipped into his sleeping bag to take his pants off without you watching him.
You raised an eyebrow at him questionningly. “Since when are you shy about getting undressed?”
He chuckled “I wouldn't want you to get a glimpse of my banging bod and fall in love with me” he joked.
You scoffed. You'd seen him in his swimwear before and he knew that.
You took your over clothes off in front of him nonchalantly, not bothering to hide yourself given that he had also seen you in swimwear, and he sucked in a breath and quickly looked away.
For a dick, he was being quite a gentleman, and something stirred inside you at that fact. You didn’t know he was capable of being a gentleman.
You slid into your own sleeping bag and sighed in relief, your body fully relaxing for the first time since this afternoon.
You were both lying there, in slightly awkward silence.
You thought back to how quickly Oscar had reacted, and shuddered at the thought of “What if? What if Oscar hadn't been out there at that moment?”
The distress must have shown on your face because Oscar asked “What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing” you replied a bit too quickly, avoiding his gaze that was burning into the side of your face.
“You're a bad liar” he muttered softly, not a hint of joking in his tone.
“You know you're probably going to get a court-martialed when we get back?” your voice trembled as you realised that the thought of not having Oscar around made you sad.
“I doubt that, I was protecting a fellow officer. If anything he's the one who should be getting court-martialed.”
You sighed. In a perfect world.
“That's generally not how these things go, you know? They'll probably find a way to blame me and then I’ll be the one in trouble…”
Oscar rolled over onto his side and stared at you with a serious expression.
“Look at me” he ordered. You turned your head to see a stormy look in his eyes “I will do everything I can to make sure that doesn't happen. And if it does I will quit the army altogether.”
You blinked at him.
“You don't have to do that”
“Of course I do.” He glanced down briefly at your lips. “If I don't who will?”
You felt tears prickle at your eyes again and you gulped down the emotions threatening to spill out.
“Thank you, Oscar” you breathed.
He smiled “No problem”
“No. I mean thank you for earlier… not every man I know would have done what you did”
His eyes softened as he looked at you.
He didn't need to say anything, you both knew it to be true.
You fell into a comfortable silence and you almost drifted off, if it weren’t for the slight movement next to you.
“You okay?” you asked, seeing that Oscar was searching around for his disguarded shirt.
“Yeah, I’m a bit cold so I’m going to put my clothes back on”
You watched him put his shirt on, and you felt sorry for stealing his sleeping bag.
“Well… you know the most effective way to maintain body heat?”
That made him freeze. Of course he knew, it was basic training. The best way to warm up was to share body heat with someone.
“You…” he gulped “You wanna do that?” his eyes met yours. “For me?”
You smiled at him “Sure. It’s the least I can do”
He frowned at that. “I don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything, that’s not why I-”
You shushed him by pressing a finger to his lips. “I know, but I feel bad that you’re cold because of me so I want to help you get warm, simple as that”
Without another word you unzipped your sleeping bag, then his, and zipped them together to essentially form a big sleeping bag for two.
Oscar was a bit red in the face at your sudden proximity to him but he looked mildly impressed. “Ingenious”
You rolled your eyes and lay down on your side with your back to him. “Whatever, now shut up and get over here”
He grumbled something you couldn’t hear and shuffled over to you, his arm hovering awkwardly.
“Can I, uhh- you know, touch you?”
Thank god he couldn’t see your face or he would have seen how you blushed furiously at his words.
You had to scold yourself for your unholy thoughts.
“Of course”
His arm was draped over your middle, and you could feel the heat of his chest almost touching your back, but for some reason he seemed reluctant to press his body to yours, which was the whole point of this.
“Oscar, you do know the concept of spooning, yes?” you giggled, trying to lighten the mood. He mumbled out a ‘yes’.
“Then you know your body needs to be touching mine, yeah? Not just your arm.”
“I uh- I don’t think that’s a good idea right now” he whispered, and his breath on the back of your neck made you shiver.
“Why not? I told you it’s fine, we’re just sharing body heat”
He sighed. “I can’t. I have- uhh, a problem.”
“What problem?”
“You know... A problem that would make it very uncomfortable for both of us to spoon right now”
Your breath hitched. “You mean…”
The silence stretched on and he didn’t say anything.
“You mean you’re… you've got- uhh…”
“Yeah” he breathed. “I’m sorry. I usually … you know, before I go to bed but you’re here, so… yeah”
Your face was burning now. You now had the image of Oscar getting rid of his problem swimming around your head.
“You can deal with it… if you want. I don’t mind. This is your tent.”
His arm twitched where it was lying against you. “No I’m not doing that while you’re here!”
“Why not?” you were feeling emboldened by the obvious stutter in his breathing “It’s a natural bodily response. Nothing to be ashamed of.”
Oscar had to thoroughly recompose himself, before saying something he’d regret.
“No it’s fine, it’ll go away in a minute.”
“Okay, suit yourself” you sighed, closing your eyes and your brain unhelpfully supplied the image of you helping him with his problem.
Neither of you said a word after that, you were both too busy trying to think of something else, anything else, rather than the ache between your respective legs.
It had been a while since you'd been in this close a proximity to a man, especially one as fucking fit as him.
And he was fucking hard. And probably big as well, if the size of his ego was anything to go by.
You felt him shiver behind you.
“Oscar” you turned around so that you were facing him. “It’s not going to go away is it? So either accept it, or get rid of it, but I don’t want you to be cold!”
His eyes were wide as he met your challenging gaze. You didn't know where this brazenness was coming from, maybe it was pure adrenaline, but you turned over again and huffed. “Now get on with it”
A beat passed without a sound, before he started shuffling around.
“You sure you're okay with this?” he asked tentatively.
“Yeah go ahead, pretend I'm not here”
Oscar sighed and reached a hand down over his underwear, giving himself the lightest squeeze. Damn, he was really hard.
“Shit, okay” he said, talking to himself more than anything.
He slid his boxers down enough to free his cock and wrap a hand around his girth.
He bit back a moan.
He was determined to do this quietly, for your sake.
You'd told him to ‘pretend you weren't there’ but that wasn't possible for Oscar in that moment. Firstly because the heat radiating from your body was impossible to ignore, secondly because when he closed his eyes all he could see was you, and all the past dirty fantasies Oscar had had about you when he got himself off.
He'd thought of what it would be like to see you on your knees for him, begging for his cock, or how you'd look bouncing on top of him while he sucked your tits.
He was just a man after all.
And he was so hard it hurt, and he was trying his best to not let any noises slip.
But you could hear the slight movement of his hand against the sleeping bag, and the way his ragged breathing was getting heavier, and then his almost silent whimpers.
And now you were getting turned on.
It's not like he was being loud. By any account it should have been easy to ignore him, but all of your senses seemed to have tuned in to him, and only him.
You could almost see him in yoir mind, lips bitten raw and eyes squeezed shut as he worked his cock frantically, trying to come as fast as possible while you were inches away from him.
The heat between your own legs was becoming unbearable, you needed some kind of relief, so you didn't think twice before sliding a hand into your own underwear.
The first touch against your clit sent an instant wave of relief over your body, so you carried on, sliding a finger through your folds, which were so wet it slipped right in with no resistance.
You flexed your wrist, careful to not make any movements that might alert Oscar to what you were doing.
It was filthy, rubbing one off to your friends sounds, but you couldn't help yourself. You were getting wetter by the minute and the pressure of your palm against your clit just felt so good.
You were biting your lip in an effort to stop the noises coming out of your mouth, and you were doing a better job of it than Oscar, because he was letting out pathetic little whimpers.
“Fuck” he let out a quiet breath, and you almost would have missed it had you not been listening intently.
You clenched involuntarily around your fingers at the sound, and let out a high pitched noise of your own.
He froze, worried that he'd somehow gone too far.
“Shit- sorry… I'll stay quiet I promise”
You let out a breath, not stopping the movement of your hand.
“Oscar”
“Yeah?” he sounded breathless as his head whipped up to look at you.
“Don't stop, fuck-” you were so fucking needy you could feel yourself slowly creeping towards an orgasm.
Oscar's brain stalled as he realised exactly what you were doing, and his cock throbbed at the thought of you getting off to his noises.
“Are you…?” he asked, hand picking up the rhythm, aided by the steady drip of precome leaking from his tip. “Are you touching yourself as well?”
“Yeah… I'm sorry” you whined “You just sound so hot, Osc, couldn't help myself…”
His brain melted at the nickname, and at how fucked-out you sounded already.
“You have no idea how fucking hard I am right now” he groaned in frustration.
“fuck- I need you” you were trembling, you just needed a little extra push to get over the edge.
“Jesus” he gasped “What do you need?”
“Need you inside me, please” you begged so prettily, how could he refuse such a request.
His body finally made contact with yours, and you could feel him against the curve of your ass.
He reached around your body and replaced your hand with his.
“Fucking hell, you're soaked” he grunted as you quickly slid your underwear off and hooked your leg over his hips to pull him closer to you.
You took his cock in your hand and for the first time felt exactly how big he was.
“Fucking hell Oscar” you gasped.
He chuckled and lined himself up with your dripping cunt, rubbing himself through your folds.
“Fuck me Osc, please” he swiftly pushed inside, and the way he stretched you out so perfectly made your brain turn to static as he wasted no time, thrusting in and out of you shallowly.
You turned your head to the side and grabbed his face to join your lips in a messy kiss, panting as he buried himself in you to the base.
You shuddered as his cock kissed your cervix over and over, all the while rubbing your clit in fast tight circles in an effort to make you come before him, both of you being already so close to the edge you could taste it.
Neither of you lasted very long. As soon as you started clenching around him he was a goner, and he came inside you with a punched-out groan of your name while you whined into his mouth.
You were too exhausted to move, so he kept his softening cock inside you, and wrapped his arms around you to hold you tighter.
“Well, I'm not cold anymore, that's for sure…”
You giggled and slapped his arm playfully.
He responded by leaning over you and pressing his lips to yours in a passionate display of emotion that you were too tired to unpack right now, so you just enjoyed the moment, smiling into kiss.
You fell asleep like that, in each other's arms.
When you got back, you discovered that several complaints had been made about your Sergeant, and there was some kind of investigation involving lie detector tests.
He did end up getting arrested, and you were promoted for your troubles, and because you deserved it, of course.
Apparently he was the one that had been preventing you from getting that promotion, on the grounds that you were better off under his supervision, as he put it in his reports.
So you sued, and won, and Oscar was so proud of you he bought you an engagement ring, which he gave to you in Paris, on the Seine, while a accordionist played Careless Whisper behind you.
It was raining fucking buckets, and the accordion sounded dreadful, but to you it was absolutely perfect.
Oscar found it incredibly hot that you were now his superior, and often called you Sir to rile you up.
So naturally, you regularly had sex in your uniforms, because you were both absolute freaks about it.
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unadulterated loathing (pt 3, finale)
pt 1 / pt 2
pairing: fiyero tigelaar x fem reader
summary: you are forced to partner up with fiyero on a history project. things don't go as you imagine.
a/n: the final part!! this was meant to be a really short one shot to show my appreciation for jb and then it ended up becoming. 15000 words. so you know sometimes things happen. anyways i hope you enjoy lol i had a lot of fun writing these two
wc: 4.7k
warning(s): none really? i guess some minor angst w/ allusions to cheating but this is the resolution it's pretty much all fluff
You’d never been this nervous on your way to the library.
Maybe it was because you were just on the edge of helping Fiyero cheat on his girlfriend, and said girlfriend showed up in the midst of said almost cheating.
Yeah. It was probably that.
You didn’t know what was wrong with you, honest. It was almost exactly two weeks ago that you were a perfectly sane individual, more interested in making sure Fiyero didn’t ruin your life, and more importantly your grades—and now you couldn’t stop thinking about him.
You exhaled slowly as you stopped outside the door. You were going to finish the project tonight, and then everything would be back to normal. You would be back to only caring about your grades, and Fiyero would go back to Galinda.
You ran your hands down your uniform to straighten your top, as well as try to straighten out your thoughts. At least you were early—you’d have some time to try and be a normal person while you waited for Fiyero to show up.
That is, until you walked into the library and immediately heard someone call your name.
Your eyes snapped in the direction of the voice, and your breath hitched despite yourself when you saw it was Fiyero. You cringed against the dirty looks from various students as you hurried over to him, where he sat at your usual table.
“Good of you to finally show up,” he said in mock disdain. “You know, we are partners, so it would be nice for you to put in the same amount of effort.”
You huffed as he threw your words back at you. “Clever. You’re still not meant to be loud in a library.”
Fiyero shrugged. “I’m sure they don’t mind.”
“They very much do,” you said, taking your seat across from him. “And why are you so early?”
“I wanted to make sure we got our usual spot,” he said. “Very popular real estate, this table.”
“Right,” you nodded. “Thank you, then.”
“Of course.” Fiyero looked at the stack of books in your arms—you’d been carrying them around for the past two weeks. “I wasn’t sure if you would remember to get the books after.”
“Didn’t I tell you?” you said wryly. “I remember everything.”
“Of course,” he repeated, his lips twitching. “I went by the library after to get them, but sure enough, you already had.”
“You went to get them?”
“You were soaked to the bone. I figured you had more important things to do.”
“If you’ve been listening at all lately, you would know that school is the most important thing to me.”
“Right.” Fiyero chuckled, but there was a different edge to it. “I trust you were able to get back safely?”
“It’s just to my dorm. I was fine. Oh, and—” you opened your bag and pulled out Fiyero’s jacket, perfectly folded— “thank you for this. I washed and dried it, so you don’t have to worry about any of it.”
He smiled as he took it, choosing to set it down next to him rather than slip it back on. Honestly, you were thankful. You… really liked this stripped down look. “I’m glad it was useful.”
“It was,” you nodded. “How was your talk with Galinda?”
He sighed and shook his head. “It was nothing.”
“Fiyero, it was very obviously something,” you said. “What did she say to you?”
“I brought coffee like you asked,” he said instead. He pushed both cups over to you.
“Fiyero—”
“I got you two,” he continued. “Figured you would need them more than I do.”
You held your tongue as you stared at him, and he stared right back. It was clear you weren’t going to get anything out of him about this—at least, not yet.
So you nodded and took one of the cups. “Thank you. You’re probably right.”
Fiyero smiled and nodded. Then his eyes lit up, and he pointed at you. “You said you knew why Dillamond paired us together.”
“Oh, yeah.” You chuckled a bit and shrugged. “I don’t know how I didn’t figure it out sooner. He was hoping we would both mellow each other out.”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“All I really care about is school. I have big dreams and only one shot at them, so I refuse to slow down—I don’t know how to not stress about everything in my life, and it’s kinda killing me. You, on the other hand, don’t stress about anything. You dance through life without care—for your grades, what other people think about you, even the future, but because of it, people don’t ever see you for who you really are.” You tapped on the table between you. “We’re opposite ends of the spectrum. Doctor Dillamond wanted this project to help us meet in the middle—to influence each other for the better.”
“...Huh.” Fiyero leaned back and laughed. “So this was really just some kind of experiment?”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” you said wryly. “I think he just saw an opportunity and took it.” You gave him a look. “He was probably tired of you failing every test.”
“And he was probably tired of you trying to take over his job,” Fiyero said in turn.
“Oh, whatever,” you admonished with a smile.
“Do you think it worked?”
“...I think so, yeah.” You gestured at him. “I couldn’t stand you at the beginning of all this. Now, I’d say we’re something close to friends.”
“Something close to friends?” he asked in mock pain. “Not even the full thing?”
“Give it another month.”
“I don’t know,” Fiyero said offhandedly. “Wanting to hang out for another month sounds like something friends would do.”
“Are you done?” you asked.
“Never,” he said. “But I’ll put a temporary pause on it. Where are we at? How much work do we have left?”
“We’ve got the whole paper written and I’ve proofread all of it—we just need to go through and rewrite some parts to make them stronger, and maybe add a little more substance in the middle. The sixth page is the weakest one.”
“Makes sense,” he said. “It is the sixth page.”
You huffed a laugh as you opened the folder you’d been keeping everything in and slid it over to the middle of the table. “Have you read the whole thing yet?”
He shook his head, and your eyebrows rose. “Really?
“Just the pages I wrote,” he said. “I’m sure yours are much better than mine.”
“Then you read the whole essay while I go through my additions,” you said. “I could use some fresh eyes on it all—I’ve been staring at those words forever.”
Fiyero nodded and took the stapled papers out of the folder. He met your eyes as he flipped the top page over. “Very nice title page.”
“Thank you,” you said. “I took inspiration from the cover of a book Ilara wrote on Winkie languages, actually.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Really?”
You shrugged, biting back your smile as you turned back to your pages. “I thought it would be a nice touch.”
You could see Fiyero’s smile out of your peripherals, and it almost made you forget about the questions gnawing at your skull.
But now clearly wasn’t the time. So you pushed them away and did what you did best—ignored everything else in your life in favor of getting your schoolwork done.
The time passed quickly enough that way. It took Fiyero a decent amount of time to read the entire paper—it didn’t help that he got distracted about twenty-five times and bothered you with questions each time, but his questions were at least related to the paper half the time, so you humored them.
Two hours, both coffees, what felt like a thousand questions, and one exploded fountain pen later (thankfully not yours, though Fiyero somehow made the ink splatter on his undershirt look good)—
“I… think we’re actually done.”
“Oz, I hope so,” Fiyero muttered. “This is the longest I’ve ever been in the library.”
“These are rookie numbers,” you said wryly. “But yes, we’re done. We’ve got a really solid paper here, Fiyero.” You smiled. “And you helped with a good amount of it.”
He puffed out his chest. “And you thought I would just ride your coattails the entire time.”
“You thought that too,” you said.
“I did,” he amended. “But it’s kind of impossible going against you.”
You grinned. “I can’t believe it took you this long to figure it out.”
You stood up from the table and took some time to stretch. Your wrists and fingers hurt from writing, and your eyes were strained from reading so much of your own writing (and Fiyero’s) for so long, but none of it really bothered you. You finished your midterm the day before it was due, and you were immensely proud of it. Considering you were at odds—admittedly one-sided odds—with Fiyero at the beginning, it should have been branded a miracle.
“I know I’ve said it a lot, but I truly don’t know how you do this,” Fiyero said. “This is the most I’ve used my brain in a long time, but this is how you live. Truly exhausting.”
You smiled. “Maybe you can try and get better grades now.”
“Oh, darling,” Fiyero chided, “who do you think I am?”
You chuckled and shook your head. “It was worth a shot.”
You began to gather all the books scattered about the table—you were usually organized when you did work, but you’d ended up making quite the mess—and Fiyero helped. The two of you dropped them in the returns and you cracked your knuckles.
“I’m so glad I don’t have to keep carrying all those back and forth,” you said.
“I’m surprised you haven’t thrown out your back yet,” he remarked. “But now you’re done with books for a while, at least.”
“Oh, hardly,” you remarked. “In fact, there’s a chemistry book I need to check out to help with my assignment coming up.”
Fiyero frowned as he started following your quick pace back to the aisles. “Have you got another paper?”
“Not yet,” you said, paying him no mind as you checked book bindings to keep yourself on the right track. He could hardly keep up with you. “I just want to study up on the method we’re going to be using so I know how to do it.”
“Isn’t the point of class to learn how to do it?” he asked.
“I’m just wasting time if I don’t already know what I’m doing,” you said. You made a triumphant noise as you realized you were in the right aisle, and you started moving down, eyes rapidly scanning last names on book spines.
“You truly make no sense,” Fiyero murmured.
“There it is!” you exclaimed. You took a particularly hefty book off the shelf and skimmed through the first couple of pages, nodding once you’d confirmed you had the right one. “Alright, now we can—”
“That’s one nasty bruise.”
You looked up from the pages to see Fiyero much closer than before, his brows furrowed as he looked at your arm.
Your attention fell to where he was focused on, and you shrugged. “I must’ve done it while I was getting out of the water. I’ve always bruised easily.”
“Probably because you don’t take care of yourself,” he said wryly. He moved to take your arm, but he met your eyes first for permission. When you nodded, he placed one hand underneath to support it. “Does it hurt?”
“Not anymore,” you said. “I told you, Fiyero—I’m fine.”
“I know,” he sighed. “You always are; I’m beginning to realize that.”
You shrugged, though you smiled inwardly. “It’s a virtue.”
“I really am sorry that you fell into the water,” he said. “I feel like it’s my fault.”
“It’s not your fault at all,” you said. If anything, it was your fault for going into complete panic mode at the slightest glimpse of Galinda.
“Still, though,” he said. “I’m surprised you weren’t angrier.”
“Well… All this time I’ve spent with you has made me realize I don’t need to take everything so seriously.” You gave him a sideways smile, trying to imitate that easy smile he always seemed to have in his back pocket. “Especially when I’ve already got everything worked out.”
“I’m glad I could teach you something,” Fiyero said softly. “In return for all you taught me.”
“I taught you how to write an essay, you taught me how to not be miserable all the time,” you said wryly. “Certainly equals.”
“You came along with it,” he murmured. “That’s more valuable than anything.”
Something hard pressed against your back, and you realized you’d backed up against the bookcases, Fiyero angled in a way that caged you in. You met his eyes, surprised to see he was already looking at you.
His gaze drifted to your lips. He started to lean in, you doing the same without fully realizing it, as if the two of you were pulled by some invisible string.
His eyes had already fluttered shut. You were inches from his lips—he was letting you take the first step at your own pace.
And then you stopped.
“You’re with Galinda,” you whispered. You couldn’t help it.
Fiyero stopped, and he sighed before he opened his eyes. “Hardly.”
“You’re arm in arm everywhere you go,” you said. “She’s head over heels for you and everyone knows, most of all you. You saw how she reacted to the two of us down by the water today!”
“She thinks there’s so much more than there is,” he said. “I’ve been pulling away. If she hasn’t noticed—”
“Does she know that?” you asked.
He stayed silent.
“Fiyero, does she know that you think this little of your relationship?”
“...No,” he admitted. “She’s not the best at taking hints.”
“Then don’t make her take them. Tell her.” You shook your head, letting out a shaky sigh as you took a step back. “If— if you actually want this—want me—then you have to tell her. You have to end things with her.”
Fiyero reached out a hand as he said your name, and you shook your head once more.
“Galinda doesn’t deserve to be strung along while you try to figure out how you feel,” you said. “And neither do I.”
“That’s not what this is,” he said. “I promise.”
“Promises mean nothing if they’re just words,” you said. You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to get rid of the chill running down your spine. “You know what I want, Fiyero. If it’s not what you want, then—”
“What do you want?” he interrupted.
“I—” the word stuck in your throat. Fiyero was so close you could feel his warmth, smell his scent—it threatened to overwhelm you in the most intoxicating way.
“What?” Fiyero’s gaze didn’t waver. Oz, he wanted to kill you. He wanted to hear you say it.
“I want you,” you finally managed to get out. Something changed in his eyes, and you saw his throat bob. “But I need to know this is real.”
Fiyero took your hand. “It is.”
He pulled you closer to him, and it would have been the easiest thing in the world to fall into him and let him give you what you’d been fighting against. But you weren’t going to kiss him and make a fool of yourself just for him to go back to Galinda.
“Then prove it,” you said. You took your hand back, and you pushed past him. Fiyero put up no resistance, and you still felt his eyes on you.
“And when I do?” he spoke up.
That stopped you in your tracks. You turned to meet his eyes, softer than you’d ever seen them. You looked down at the book in your hand, and you held it out to him.
“Then meet in the library tomorrow to help me with my chemistry assignment.”
Fiyero took the book and nodded. “I guess I’ve got even more to learn.”
-
You had a very rude awakening to your alarm clock the next morning.
You hadn’t been able to sleep the whole night, your stupid, stupid words replaying in your head over and over again. Usually, when you couldn’t sleep you just worked on homework. But all of your homework was done, and you’d just finished your essay, so you had nothing to do but stare up at the ceiling. And stare up at the ceiling you did — you counted all the flowers and leaves on it at least fifteen times.
It didn’t really help that Fiyero appeared in your dreams once you finally did manage to get some sleep, doing all sorts of lovely things to you.
Cora was right. Against your better judgment, you liked Fiyero—just like everyone else liked Fiyero.
All you had to hope was that he liked you too.
It wasn’t absurd to think he did, was it? The man tugged at your strings constantly, but he stayed by your side the entire project despite your insults. He barely even glanced at Galinda when she confronted the two of you, and he offered his jacket in spite of all of it.
He practically told you he liked you last night—Great Oz, he tried to kiss you.
You overthought everything in your life, but you couldn’t overthink this.
Could you?
God, men turned you into a disaster. There was a reason you avoided silly dalliances.
You tried to push Fiyero out of your mind as much as possible as you got ready, but it wasn’t easy. You could, in fact, overthink this—and you very much were.
You opened your door to go to the restrooms, but your door hit something. You frowned and crouched down, and you realized it was a book. Your chemistry book.
Your heart pounded as you picked it up. A strip of paper had been wedged in the middle, and when you pulled it out and smoothed the slip, you nearly dropped the book.
You’re what I want. I just have to clear some things up.
Meet me at Ozdust after dark. Wear your best.
FT
Your heart fluttered despite yourself.
Fiyero didn’t forget. You hadn’t scared him off with your declarations, with— with all your you.
He didn’t forget. He chose you.
He chose you.
(You couldn’t overthink this.)
((You were going to.))
Oh, Oz.
How were you meant to go to your classes today?
-
You could have sworn you were shaking the entire way to Ozdust.
This was just… not you. Sneaking off campus in the middle of the night, getting glitzed up to go dance, being with someone like Fiyero—it was so unfamiliar. You had to get Coralie to do your makeup and hair, and she squealed practically the entire time. For someone so smart, she really lost it when she was right.
But you owed it to him to go through with it. After all, he wrote a ten page paper with you. You could do a little bit of dancing.
You’d already started looking for him the moment you walked through the doors. You needed one thing to keep you afloat here.
Thankfully, it didn’t take very long. You found Fiyero leaning up against a pillar, his arms crossed and gaze unfocused as his foot bounced up and down repeatedly. Warmth blossomed within your body just at the sight of him, which you were partly thankful for—your dress had you shivering.
His head perked up as if he could sense your arrival, and it only took a few moments for him to find you in the crowd. The weight on his shoulders dissolved as he grinned and started to weave his way through the throngs of bodies to get to you.
You couldn’t help but smile too when he reached you, something you’d never really seen before in his eyes as he met yours.
“You came,” Fiyero said.
“How could I not?”
He let out a nervous laugh. “Very easily, I think. I saw about a hundred different scenarios where you didn’t show.”
“Overthinking,” you said. “It looks like I’ve taught you a little too much.”
Fiyero grinned and shook his head. “Never.”
You lifted up the skirt of your dress, feeling your skin heat beneath his gaze. “What do you think?”
“You’re beautiful,” he said softly. “You always are— always have been. This just accentuates it.”
“You’re too kind.” You wrapped your arms around yourself on instinct, feeling awfully bare and insecure now that everything had settled a bit. “This… isn’t exactly my scene.”
“That project wasn’t my scene and you got me through it well enough,” he responded. “This is my scene—so just trust me and let me take the lead.”
“Trust you?” you said with a sideways smile. “I’m not sure there are worse things.”
“Oh, believe me.” Fiyero held out his hand. “There are indeed.”
Before you could doubt yourself, you took it. He walked you to the dance floor, and you cleared your throat.
“Is this a bad time to say I don’t really dance?”
“You’ll be fine,” Fiyero assured. “I’m an excellent lead.”
He was indeed. You always thought that you had two left feet, but Fiyero made you feel like you actually knew what you were doing. Every time you thought you might step on his foot, he would take you into the next few steps and it would all be fine. Of course, his touch lit flames everywhere it went, but that was of no matter. He only made you weak in the knees.
As you looked at Fiyero, your arms draped around his neck and his hands resting on your waist while you swayed together to a slower part of the song, you couldn’t help but ask.
“How did you break it to her?”
Fiyero sighed. “I was wondering when you were going to ask that.”
“You can’t blame me,” you said.
“No,” he agreed. He sighed again. “Very carefully. And I had to do it about three times, because she didn’t fully believe me the first two times.”
You bit your lip. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh, don’t be. It was a long time coming. I care about her, but not in the way she does for me.” He gave you a wry smile. “That’s why I left the book at your door. I didn’t know how long it would take.”
“And how long did it take?
“The better half of the day.”
You winced. “I hope she’s alright.”
“She will be,” he said. “Especially with someone like Elphaba by her side.”
“Good,” you said. “I… I didn’t want to hurt her.”
“You didn’t,” Fiyero assured. “If anything, you kept her from further harm by bringing me to my senses.”
“I wasn’t sure if you had.” You let out a nervous laugh—all of this was such new territory that you felt like you were stumbling over every step.
“I wasn’t sure if you were going to show,” Fiyero said in turn. “It’s the first time I’ve been nervous about a girl in a while.”
His smile was so genuine, with a touch of the anxiousness you felt over every little part of your life. It had to feel absurd for someone who never worried a day in their life.
“Really?” you asked. “I make you nervous?”
Fiyero shrugged—he actually looked bashful, and it was the cutest thing in the world. “You’ve got that effect on me. Effortlessly, I might add.”
“Flatterer,” you remarked, but you were grinning all the while. “You know, you have the same effect on me. I stressed out even more trying to figure out if you liked me or not. Or if I liked you.”
“You know how much I adore that beautiful brain of yours,” Fiyero said, “but we made it. There’s nothing for you to overthink here.”
“Oh, I think you underestimate me,” you said wryly. “Right now, I’m mainly stressing out about my dress and my makeup and accidentally stepping on your foot. I’m also a little stressed about the strength of these pillars, and I’m already thinking about my next assignment in chemistry now that I’ve got my book back.”
Fiyero laughed as he spun you around. “Let me try to lay some of those to rest then,” he said when he had you back in his arms. “You look absolutely stunning in your dress, and your makeup is perfect. You’re not going to step on my foot, and if you do, you can blame it on me because I’m leading you. If any of these pillars collapse, I’ll save you as any prince worth his salt would. As for your chemistry assignment, we’ll just work together on it.”
You leaned your head against his chest as you swayed together. “And just how much do you know about chemistry?”
“If you’re talking about whatever it is going on between the two of us, then I consider myself an expert.”
“Fiyero.” You tried to be stern, but you couldn’t help your smile. He just brought out a different side in you.
“Oh, you’ll be fine. I know you will.” When he twirled you back around, he wore the same easy smile from when the two of you got paired together. Funny how you wanted to punch it off him then, and you want to kiss it off him now. “You got me to write an essay without me complaining the entire time. You can do anything.”
“Oh, I know I can,” you said with a smile. “I don’t do all this because I doubt that I’ll succeed.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” he mused.
“Really?”
“I just want you to know how amazing you are,” Fiyero said. “I’ll tell you every day if that’s what it takes.”
“I wouldn’t say no to that,” you murmured.
A new song started up and Fiyero guided you into a new dance. He was so sure of every step that it almost made you feel like you knew what you were doing as well.
“You say you’re prepared for anything.” Fiyero’s voice was a sultry whisper as he led you around the floor, and your entire body ignited with his every word and touch. “What would you do if I kissed you?”
For a moment, all you could do was meet his lidded gaze. It dropped to your lips, and suddenly it was all you could imagine.
“I—” your throat bobbed as you swallowed, your mouth dry beyond belief, “—I would kiss you back.”
“Oh, darling,” he breathed, the hand he had on your waist drawing you closer, “that was all you needed to say.”
Fiyero dipped you, strong arms supporting you all the while as he leaned down to meet your lips. It was everything that you’d imagined and more, his plush lips enveloping yours as his scent filled your nose.
He took over all your senses. His scent, his lips on yours, his strong arms supporting you with ease, your fingers tangling in his hair. Were his arms not around you, you would have surely collapsed. You always thought people were exaggerating when they said they got weak in the knees—you didn’t think that anymore.
Fiyero only let up an inch when he pulled away, still close enough for your noses to brush even as he brought you back up out of the dip. You closed your eyes and touched your forehead to his, and you heard his breath hitch the slightest bit. The ballroom was full of people, and yet he made you feel as if you were the only two in all of Oz.
“You’re incredible,” you murmured. You felt like you could melt.
“As are you.” Fiyero let out a breathy sigh. “I can’t believe I waited so long.”
“I hope it was worth the wait.”
“You’re worth everything and more,” he said softly.
He leaned in and brushed his lips against yours again; once, twice, three times before he pulled back. He was nothing less than intoxicating.
“We make a pretty good team,” he said with a sideways smile. “Don’t you agree?”
This time, spurred on by his encouragement, you cupped his face in your hands and kissed him. Fiyero kept you close with his hands on your waist, and you only pulled away when air became a necessity. You couldn’t help your stupid smile—it had been a long time since you’d felt this happy, and it was all because of the man in front of you.
You couldn’t believe you ever thought you loathed him.
“I do,” you murmured. “I really, really do.”
#fiyero tigelaar x reader#fiyero x reader#wicked x reader#fiyero x you#fiyero tigelaar x you#fiyero movie x reader#wicked movie x reader
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My Sweetheart || LN4
lando norris x dcc!reader
summary: you are part of the dcc’s, who perform at the formula 1 austin grand prix, what a coincidence that your secret boyfriend is a racing driver competing in said event
a/n: I promised y’all this like two weeks ago i’m sorry it took so long🫠
masterlist
“Girls, you ready?”, your group leader called, receiving thumbs up from all of you.
You put on your nicest smile and followed the other girls out on track, immediately spotting Lando next to the other drivers. He sent you a cheeky wink when your eyes met as you were dancing towards your designated spot to start ‘Thunderstruck’.
Here was the thing, Lando had never watched you perform. Of course in the comfort of your living room, but that was something different, never when you were fully dressed in your uniform with your hair and make up done and next to the other girls.
And you truly hadn’t thought that I’d be so difficult to focus on your steps and not the way his eyes followed your every move, sometimes dipping down to your chest.
Once you were done with the kickline, a roaring applause sounded off the track.
You exchanged proud smiles with the other girls, catching your breath while waving with your poms.
Your eyes darted back to Lando, who had his arms crossed in front of his chest, making his biceps pop, and boyish smirk on his lips.
You thought back to the conversation Lando and you had last night.
“How about after the parade, I’ll just kiss you?”, Lando proposed, laying down behind you. You looked back at him to see a mischievous glint in his eye.
“Paul would probably remove your arms from your body faster than you can accelerate”, you giggled, thinking about your bodyguard who took all of the girls‘ safety extremely serious.
"Also true”, Lando chuckled, secretly loving how safe you were when you were with the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders.
He pressed you closer to muffle his nose into your hair.
Still, your heart raced at the thought. Since meeting in Miami, coincidentally where he took his first race win, it had been an exciting, hidden part of your life. Both of our agreeing to keep it under wraps for a few months.
Now, almost five months later, you still haven’t told a lot of people. Only your families and Carlos knew, though you were almost sure Carlos was considered part of Lando‘s family as well.
You walked past the drivers and the second your eyes landed on Lando, a rush of adrenaline caused you to make an impulsive decision. “I’ll be back in a second”, you told Sophy before running over to your boyfriend, who was nudged by Carlos next to him. Lando’s head turned just when you came to a halt in front of him. “Good luck today!”, you spoke breathlessly and quickly stood on your tiptoes to lean forward to press a quick but lingering kiss to his lips.
Thanks to his ridiculously fast reflexes, Lando put one hand around your waist to pull you closer just when you wanted to pull back. The crowd erupted again, but for a different reason this time.
He smiled into the kiss before allowing you to retreat.
“Gee, thanks I feel honored”, he joked, making you roll your eyes. He chuckled, eyes sparkling. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?” You shrugged, biting back a smirk as you noticed the Dallas girls gaping from the sidelines. Your best friend jaw had practically hit the floor.
"Go, your girls are waiting on you”, he said and tapped your butt cheek twice, causing Paul to clear his throat next to the two of you.
Lando glanced over at your team’s bodyguard before pulling his hands back.
You tapped Paul’s arm to signal him, that it was okay and nodded over to the exit where the rest of the girls were standing.
“Next time give me a little warning, that would he nice”, Paul muttered as you walked back. “Sorry, that was pretty impulsive right there”, you chuckled.
“Okay, girl WHAT???”, Sophy called when you were in reach, grabbing your arm and shaking you.
With a smile, you glanced over your shoulder to where Lando was now the subject to subtle teasing from Carlos and shock from Oscar next to him. “We’ve been seeing each other. Met back in Miami, actually, it was right before I moved to Dallas to try out for DCC. My dad was invited to the race by Mclaren because of a sponsorship deal and took me with him“, you explain as you walked back to the paddock guest section.
"So he just asked for your number??“, Kleine butted in, buzzed with excitement. "Uhm, no actually. We met obviously at the race and it was his first ever win, so he went out to celebrate and uh-", you stopped for a second, thinking back to that rather wild night in Miami.
"Oh no girl!", Sophy could practically read your thoughts. You shoved your head into your poms as the other girls around you started realizing what your indication meant.
"So, anyway, I woke up with his phone number in my phone the next day"
and him naked next to you, but you left that part out.
"We‘ve been seeing each other since. Well, we mostly facetimed at the beginning, I told him I‘m moving to Dallas to try out for DCC. He immediately was incredibly supportive and uhm… actually spent his summer break in Dallas with me, so like basically all of August", you giggled.
"Wait!", Charly called, getting your attention. "Was he the guy in your car? Who picked you up from training?" You nodded with a slight smile. "Yeah, so you technically have met him before", you joked, causing the girls to laugh.
It sort of felt surreal to have that out in the open right now, and you were sure if you were to open any of your socials right now, they would explode with messages and new followers.
Back in the paddock, you changed into your navy blue training suits and watched the race with an intense focus, hands clasped as Lando carved his way through each lap.
He held steady, kept his line, and defended like he was born to win today. Watching him maneuver the car with the precision and confidence you’d seen a thousand times over on your home TV (or your phone, depending on where you were) was exhilarating and nerve-wracking all at once.
Finally, when he crossed the line in first, a flood of cheers echoed around you.
"Your man‘s great!", Kelli smiled next to you, causing a giggle to escape from your lips. "Thanks, Ma‘am!"
Lando had won. And this time, you were here to see it.
Beside you, Paul, the Cowboys’ assigned bodyguard, nudged you. “You’re clear to go to the podium,” he said, a faint smile under his otherwise serious expression.
With a breath of excitement, you nodded, feeling your pulse pick up as you followed Paul through the crowd, navigating your way to the podium. The fans cheered as you approached, and finally, you spotted Lando. He was celebrating with his team, arms thrown up in victory, a radiant smile on his face. When he saw you, he froze for a second before his face broke into a grin.
Ignoring the team and press around him, he ran over to you, grabbing you by your shoulders to pull you closer to him over the barrier.
He didn’t hesitate to press a kiss to your lips, wrapping you close despite the sea of cameras and fans catching every angle. "You did it, baby", you smiled, stroking over his sweaty cheek. "This one’s for you", he murmured, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes, still breathless from the race.
You smiled, hands still tangled around his neck, feeling the world fade away for a moment. "Congratulations, champ!"
Another smile spread across Lando’s face and he pulled you back in for a gentle kiss.
📍Circuit of the Americas
tagged: dccheerleaders, f1, landonorris, oscarpiastri
liked by: landonorris, dccheerleaders, sophylulaufer and 1.628.592 others
yn_yln: Thank you, Austin🧡
comments:
landonorris: MY sweetheart💙
yn_yln: 🥰
sophylulaufer: SURPRISE I GUESS???
avamarielahey: Seriously girl, we NEED to talk about this!!
sophylulaufer: I second that🤚🏻
annakatesundvold: I third that🤚🏻
reece_christinee: So happy for you my girl!!🥰
dccheerleaders: 💙🧡
carlossainz55: So happy, I don’t have to pretend I don’t know anymore
yn_yln: I actually only did it for you, Carlito🫶🏻
carlossainz55: See I knew why I liked you more
landonorris: Heyyy!!!
user1: Them using the heart color of the other, IM SO NORMAL ABOUT THIS
user2: Him spelling the ‘my’ in capital letters😭
user5: Whats so special about that??
user2: The dcc’s are called ‘America’s Sweethearts’, so he basically said she’s his
user3: The most unexpected crossover???
user4: Isn’t she totally way to young for him??
user6: That’s what I’ve been saying, like isn’t she 19?
user1: It’s their life so kindly stfu, and she’s 20
user7: How did that even happen????
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#lando norris#f1#mclaren#lando norris fluff#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#dcc#dallas cowboys#dallas cowboys cheerleaders#lando norris x dcc!reader#formula one imagine#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#lando norris x you
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Bad Idea
Levi Ackerman x fem!reader, nsfw 18+, mdni, virginity loss, age gap! Levi is in his 30s, the reader in her 20s, oh this is rough filth
Levi didn't care about the assigned rooms, his mind focused on the upcoming mission. His grey eyes follow the building where he will be staying for the next few days before heading outside of the walls. He heads inside, looking for his room number, he wonders if you're ready there and what you think about having to share a room with him. He knocks before entering just in case, the last thing he wanted to do is make you uncomfortable. When you say that he can come in, he does, carrying not but a single bag with him. The room was small and it had a single bed. Great. Just perfect.
You look at your Captain before your eyes fall on the bed, there was space for the two of you but it didn't make the situation any less tense. "I can sleep on the floor." That makes Levi look at you as he closes the door behind him, if anything he is the one who can sleep on the floor or the chair, he has a hard time sleeping anyway. "Nonesense There's room for both of us." He adds, setting his bag down on the bedside table, you don't speak on the matter further, he is the captain and questioning his orders is a bad idea. You nod not knowing what to say next, you don't know him that well.
As the sun set you were getting ready for bed, you had an early day and couldn't wait to get under the sheets, even of they are the same sheets your captain will be using too. After changing into your pyjamas and brushing your teeth, tou came back into the room which was now dimly lit as Levi sat at the desk writing at the paperwork with a candle burning next to him. He pays you no mind continuing to do this thing, you don't want to disturb him but you had to ask. "Ugh captain, which side would you like?" That catches his attention and he looks back at you, his eyes checks you up and down quickly before answering. "Who fucking cares. Sleep where you want." With that he turns back to finish the paperwork, he sighs slighty, you were a pretty girl in his eyes and it irritated him. "And please call me Levi."
Getting under the sheets, you try to make yourself comfortable, the only noises in the room are the quill Levi is writing with. You close your eyes trying to get sleep to wash over you but it doesn't, instead you turn and twist in the sheets, he makes you nervous, incredibly nervous and you would never admit to anyone just how much you're attracted to him, he was good eight years older than you and that added to the appeal. You rub your thighs together slighty, this wasn't a place to think about those things, he never even looked at you differently, it was ridiculous to get these naughty thoughts especially now when the man was in the same room as you. And you don't even know what it feels like, you were never with a man, sure you had your kisses but your first was something you want to give someone special.
After sometime of tossing in the bed, Levi sits on his side, your back in turned on him but you can hear him take his boots off. Was he going to sleep in his uniform...? Levi lays down on the other side, keeping his distance, he knows you're not sleeping and wonders what is keeping you awake. "Can't sleep?" He asks after sometime, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. "..no...my thoughts won't let me." You say with honesty, it was the truth however you definitely aren't telling him what kind of thoughts tho, he doesn't need to know. Levi looks at you, your back still turned on him, you look around the dark room, waiting for him to reply. "Your thoughts huh? Or is that you don't want to share the bed with me?" Levi can tell by your body language that something is up, you don't seem all too comfortable.
"What?? Not its not that.....I am not uncomfortable it's just-" You cut yourself off, not wanting him to think less of you. Taking a deep breath you continue to talk. "I have never shared a bed with a man." Those words are said quickly and quietly but Levi hears them all. A slight curiosity runs through him, it shouldn't, you were his subordinate, he really shouldn't be thinking what he is thinking right now. "Is that so? Never had a boyfriend?" There's something about his voice that sounds mocking, almost as of he is teasing you. "Not really." You mumble, it wasn't that you didn't want a relationship, it's that all the men your age seem....immature. "I just- I guess men my age aren't exactly-" "Your type?" He cuts in, already seeing what you're trying to say. "No, not my type at all." You shiver as the thought of being with him runs around your mind, you should really get that fantasy out of your head.
There's a shift in the air, you feel as if he can read all of your mind and exactly what you're thinking of. Levi scoots closer to you, you feel his body coming closer to your and you freeze. "What is your type?" He runs a finger down your back and you have to hold back a moan you aren't pulling away, you don't want to. When he sees that you aren't stopping him, he moves even closer, he removes your hair to expose the back of your neck. Leaning closer, you can feel his breath on your skin, another shiver running down your body. His lips make contact with your skin, he nibbles gently on your neck, his hand move down to your waist, his hand running under your shirt, caressing the soft skin of your stomach. Levi wants to hear you, wants to hear your moans, what's to make you beg. He bites into your skin and that causes a moan to surpass your mouth, Levi groans, it's even sweeter than he thought, he needs more.
"Turn around." He says, voice filled with lust, you do as you're told, turning around to face him. Levi is still in his uniform, his straps are undone and his cravat hang around his neck. You feel your panties get wet a little more, slightly embarrassed you look away but before your head can turn, Levi grabs your jaw and makes you look at him. Levi's thumb runs across your lip, your eyes shine with desire and he loves it, craves it. "I'll ask you this only once so answer honestly. Do you want me to fuck you?" His words surprise, Levi isn't sugercoating it and he clearly isn't a romantic, that makes it all so much more appealing. You swallow and then answer. "Yes." It's a desperate tone but not enough for Levi. "You can do better than that." He needs to hear it from your pretty lips. "I want you to fuck me, Levi." You don't look away, looking him straight in the eyes and you swear that he smirks for a second. "Good girl."
He kisses you, his hands pull you closer into his body. You follow his movements, kissing him the best you can while your hands wrap around him. Levi turns you onto your back to get on top of you, his kisses growing more intense, his tongue enters your mouth, a slight moan escaping you as his fingers spread your thighs apart so he can lay between your legs comfortably. You can feel his boner pressing against your clothed pussy and without much thinking, you roll your hips wanting more contact. Pulling away from the kiss, he growls. "Mhh there you go." He kisses down your jaw to your neck, leaving a trace of open-mouthed kisses, his hands start exploring upwards, eager to undress you. You're supposed to be nervous but you aren't at all, all you want is for him to take you, it's even better than what you imagined.
You start to get braver with your hands, they wonder around his upper body before pulling on his shirt wanting it off his body. Levi gets message, he bites into your neck, leaving a mark behind before pulling away to get rid of his shirt. His naked upper body comes into your view, you have seen it before when he was patching up his wounds but this was different, those perfect defined abs and biceps, the v line running down into his pants, you bite your lip, your fingers running down his abs. Levi kisses you again, it was his turn to have you undressed, your hands run down the muscles of his back, his hips rolling into your as he kisses you sloppily. His hands are roughly pulling your shirt over your breasts, he doesn't take it off entirely, he doesn't need to. His lips move to your neck again, he kisses over the red spots he left earlier on it, Levi starts to move lower kissing over collarbone before reaching your breasts. His eyes lock onto them, admiring them for a second before he looks at you, your eyes are telling him all, you want him even more than he let on.
"Fucking perfect." Whispering under his breath, he takes the plush flesh into his hands, massaging them. A loud moan comes out of your lips, your hand fall to grip the sheets. Levi's mouth closes around your nipple, he is still holding your breasts in his hands, pushing them together. "Mhh Levi!" You whimper his name and in return Levi swirls his tongue around your swollen bud, you gasp, hands flying to his biceps. He pulls away from your nipple, his saliva connected to your nipple. "So fucking eager aren't you?" He sucks on the other nipple, his fingers playing with the other one, pinching it between his fingers. Your head falls to the side, the pleasure is overwhelming and he isn't even touching you where you need him the most yet.
Levi sucks and plays with your nipples for a few minutes and you feel like you can cum just from that. Starting to stir, Levi bites into your bund playfully, making you dig your nails into his bicep. He moves on, kissing your stomach and biting here and there, leaving marks that will remind you of the fact that he got to have you first. Not some useless boy your age, him, your captain. His lips reach the rim of your pants and he teases you by licking across your navel and than up your stomach, he bites into your breast, leaving a hickey there too. "Levii!" Again, you sound desperate, wanting him to move on. "Begging are you sweetheart? How cute." He is definitely mocking you now, his teeth bite into your other boob, sucking on the flesh even more intensely.
When you start to stir, Levi slaps your thigh lightly as if telling you to behave. After marking your breast, he finally moves on, he takes the hem of your pants and pulls them down, revealing your panties. He immediately sees the wet spot on the fabric, spreading your legs he goes lower, his face directly in front of your core. That gives you a shiver, your legs threatening to close but Levi is quick to spread you open again. "No, no. Keep them open for me, understood?" You nod, that's not enough, he wants to hear your voice. Putting one of your legs over his shoulder, he bites into your inner thigh, once again marking his territory. "Understood, Captain!" You say, your fingers treading through his raven hair. "That's a good girl."
His bites reach closer and closer to your wetness, when he reaches your pussy, he presses kisses on the wet spot over the underwear. Your hips buck slighty, another sound emerging from your swollen lips, this was all so new and Levi was doing it so good. He kisses the spot again before hooking his fingers around the fabric and pulling your panties down, he throws them on the floor next to his shirt. Your legs close again on instinct and Levi is quick to spread them open again, his eyes glued to your folds and he watches it it twitches under his gaze. "All this wet pussy for me huh?" He leans down gently licking your slit, you tug on his hair, your hips bucking more, this feels so good, better than anything. His grey eyes shoot up to your face, every expression you make fuels him up more. He starts to eat you out, his tongue skillfully working on your pussy, you start to move around, gripping onto anything you can, his mouth feels amazing.
"You like that don't you, sweetheart?" His fingers grip your thighs leaving marks on the flesh, he moves his hand to your stomach, leaving it there while skillfully working on your wetness with his mouth. "Yes! Oh fuck Levi!" Your eyes start to roll back, Levi groans against your cunt, the sound sending vibration all through your heat. Levi's tongue finds your clit, he starts with slow licks, driving you crazy, the moans you're letting out are music to his ears. "So fucking sensitive." He uses his fingers to rub your folds while he sucks on your clit, he needs to prep you for the real thing. His fingers enters you and that causes your back to arch, rubbing more against Levi's mouth. Its certain that other can hear how loud you are but Levi could care less, the louder you are, the more turned on he is. The fingering starts off slowly, his finger pumping in and out of you. "Fuck you're tight. Can't wait to fuck this wet cunt."
Levi spits on your pussy and then starts to eat you out again, his jaw moving faster and his finger moving more gently, its a perfect combination. Sometimes starts to built up in your stomach, it feels like butterflies are flying all over your abdomen, like a burning fire but the fire is pleasure instead of pain. Adding a second finger, Levi's hips start to rut into the mattress, he needs release soon but this is all about giving you a night you won't forget. "Levi! I am-hhhghh!" He starts to finger fuck you faster, his fingers reaching that gummy spot as his mouth works on you. And the sounds, oh they are nasty wet and loud but Levi isn't slowing down, his mouth pulls away, his fingers still pumping into you. "Yeah? Gonna cum aren't you? Be a good girl for me and cum." His head rests against your thigh, his mouth and jaw are glistening with your jucies. You pull on his hair, a loud moan od his name comes out of you, your hips buck, legs shake, it's the most intense thing you have ever felt, your walls clench toghtly around his fingers and you cum, completely overcome by pleasure.
Your head falls back against the pillow, your breath heavy as you calm down from your high, Levi pulls his fingers out slowly. He puts them in his mouth, teasting you once again, kissing up your body again, Levi's hands massage your thighs. When he gets to your face, he kisses the aide of your face. "Need a moment?" He asks, nibbling on your ear, his fingers interlocking with yours and you nod. After a few moments you open your eyes looking at him, you're cheeks are red, mouth wide open, he wants to revish you, fuck you until the only thing you know is him and him only. He kisses you on the lips, the kiss as sloppy as the previous one, you kiss back, your fingers squeezing his hands as he has them pinned above your head. Eventually when he let's go, your hand runs down his body again and this time your tug on his belt, undoing it for him. "Good girl, so eager to get fucked." You bite your lip at his words as his belt comes off. Levi helps you, pulling his pants down with his underwear, he gets rid of it and again throws it on the pile of clothes on the floor.
Curiously, you take his hard cock into your hand, rubbing it up and down. Levi grunts in response, your hand felt so warm and perfect. You pump him in your hand a couple of times before letting go, giving him a sigh that you want him inside of you. "I want you inside of me, Levi." He kisses the side of your neck, you feel his hair brushing your skin. "You'll get me, sweetheart. I can't wait to fuck you." He grabs the base of his cock before positioning it against your entrance, you whimper feeling hic cockhead rub aagsint your wet opening. "Fuck....you want me huh?" Levi wants you to beg for it, he needs it all. "Please Levi! Please! I want you to fuck me." That's all he needed, he pushes his hips forward, his cock pushes past your walls, you gasp, hands gripping the sheets as you close your eyes. "Oi! Eyes on me, let me see you." Looking at him, you watch as his face narrows slighty and then his hands grab your hips. "Can I move?" Despite the list in his voice, there is care there too and you nod, grabbing the mattress even tighter as you feel him move.
He starts to fuck you, enjoying every single moan and response of your body. It's slighty painful but the more he moves, the better it feels. Levi starts to thrust harder inti you, your moans get louder, it feels so good. "You're so..fucking...tight. You feel so good, baby." Your hands run up and down his back as he continues to ram into you, his cock feels like it was made for you. Levi hisses when your pussy clenches around him, he lifts your hips up slightly to get deeper inside of you. "Fuuuck Levi!" Your nails dig into his back, his cock hits that deep spot inside of you, causing you to almost see starts, you won't last much longer before cumming again. Levi starts to pund you faster, letting out rough grunts and groans, you feel so good, so right, it's driving him mad.
Before you can react, Levi pushes your knees up to your chest, folding you and then slams into your harder, your moans are swallowed by his lips as he kisses you passionately. He moans agasint your lips when you keep clamping down on him, your body arching more into him, his nails dig into the back of thighs, he keeps you spread, fucking you harder. You pull away from the kiss when his cock hits your cervix, it's painful but feels so good at the same time. Levi grabs your hair making you look at him. "Keep those pretty eyes on me while I fuck you, baby." His forehead presses agsint yours, his thrusts get messy, he is getting close and so are you.
The knot in your stomach is creating again and this one is somehow more intense than your last climax. "Shit..I'll cum deep inside this cunt.." He fucks you in a slower pace and you feel as his cock twitches inside of you, that's nrouhh for you as you feel yourself cumming around his cock. "Atta girl. Cum for me, cum around my cock." His hands are gripping your hips so hard you're sure they will leave bruises but you don't care, not now. Levi fucks you through your orgasm, he tries his best to hold back as much as he can and he knows he shouldn't cum inside of you however it's irresistible to him, he wants you filled with his cum.
With one last groan, Levi slams hard into you and then cums deep inside of you. Your nails are still digging into his back, his cum feels warm filling you up to the brim. Levi kisses you on the lips as he finishes cumming, he pulls your body closer and let's go of your legs. The sheets are ruined beanth you but that's not a worry for either of you right now. You return the kiss, your fingers gently running down back, feeling the scratches you left behind. Both of you pull away and Levi looks at you, his eyes looking over the marks on your body, he almost feels bad, almost, he is proud of his work. Proud that you trusted him enough to let him do this. And now the mission is that much more exciting.
#levi#levi ackerman#attack on titan#aot levi#captain levi#levi x reader#levi attack on titan#levi x you#levi ackerman x reader#levi smut#levi x y/n#levi x reader smut#levi ackerman x reader smut#levi ackerman x y/n smut#levi ackerman x you#levi ackerman x female reader#levi ackerman x female!reader#levi ackerman x fem!reader#levi x female reader#levi x fem!reader#aot smut#aot x y/n#aot x reader#aot x you#attack on titan smut#attack on titan x reader#levi ackerman smut#aot levi ackerman#levi aot
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I feel like Graves would end up with a really soft and innocent s/o just because he loves being the 'strong man' lol and even though they're maybe even smaller than him all sweet and shy- he is absolutely whipped for them! Especially if they can cook and be a lil housemaker for him??
♡♡♡ warning(s): nsfw + sfw, fem!reader
─── graves and his homemaker s/o ❤︎₊ ⊹
there's no one on earth more loved and adored by him, despite the stigma surrounding the dynamic you two have. he doesn't pay any mind to their judgements. in his heart, he knows how tender he is with you behind closed doors. and in yours, he hopes.
you never pictured it to end up this way. before, you were like any adult. busting your ass at work, ending each week exhausted and struggling to buy yourself groceries.
and then you met him. chivalrous and borderline self-obsessed. but you weren't being patronized when he acted with traditional courtesy. you weren't a body to be claimed or a trophy to hang on his arm.
you were merely his. all his within months of meeting, and that meant you were to be taken care of. spoiled rotten, some would say. what better way to have it? compared to your old life of hardship, it was paradise.
everything paid for, without a second of hesitation. what little savings you had idle in your bank account, untouched when he's around.
he can and will take care of you — in every way. it's in graves' nature to provide.
no different than he does for his men, only you've been appointed the privilege of seeing the gentler side of him, when the uniform of a commander is rid of his scarred body.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈nsfw under the cut!
˖⁺。˚⋆˙˖⁺₊˚⊹♡ it's only fair, to be taken care of in every way possible. you've been so good to him, so good for him, right? there's no quicker way to his heart, than someone who enjoys being smothered with his praise.
what better sight, than opening the door and seeing you concerning with such trivial things. he spent the day making life or death decisions, and you're there; concerned with which centerpiece looks best on the dining table. some men would see it as a means for competition, or a degrade — but graves finds it irresistible.
the house smells divine; your scented candles, the fragrance you spritz, and whatever you have baking in the oven. he can practically feel the tension leave his shoulders, how his senses come alive when greeted with the comfort of your shared home.
you've dressed nice for him again, though he always gave no pressure for you to do so. clothes to match the summer heat, hair styled and pinned back to stay out of the way.
you, in your domestic, relaxed state — the one thing better than all the trivial pleasures in life, better than the house you were both standing in.
though you usual greet him, you're immersed in the centerpiece debate. you hold the two pieces up to him, "do you think I should go with the silver candle candleholders? or how about the brass ones?" it's a genuine question, but it's only met with an amused scoff — a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
graves sets aside his luggage, stepping closer to you and your very concentrated gaze. "why do you ask me, sweetheart? it's up to you. and if you don't like 'em, we'll go buy more." he examines the decor in your hands briefly, but his eyes end up back on you permanently.
"just want it to look nice in here," you sigh at his dismissal, turning away to resume contemplation. "we have that supper planned in a few weeks, don't we?" you add, setting the options back on the oak table.
as if the place could be more meticulously decorated. there was barely a trace of him in this house, except for his nightstand and office. you had free reign to adjust the home to your taste, considering you were the one who spent most of your time there.
a gentle chuckle rang from him, followed by a click of his tongue, "don't think it can get much nicer in here, darlin'. i reckon you've left a touch on just about every inch of place, haven't you?" you shoot a flustered look, even though his words are truthful.
it was a silly dilemma, considering not a soul would be criticizing your centerpiece decision. "oh, c'mon, don't do that face... my guys will eat anything you slide in front of them, you know that? could host the damn supper in the closet and you'd charm the daylights out of 'em." he says, soothing every worry down to a simmer rather than a hard boil.
he's definitely good at shutting you up. only, in the most embellished of ways. without fail, a charmed smile spread on your face — as did a surge of warmth. graves cupped one of your cheeks, running his thumb along it, "see? much better than a scowl. now, tell me, what's cooking?"
"you know the rules. i can't tell you until the timer beeps. besides, it's supposed to be a surprise." you replied, making a meek escape from his gentle grasp. displayed on the small screen; eight minutes remained.
with a hasty yank and then a stumble on your end, your back was against his chest. "i don't like surprises, do i?" you felt the sensation of his teeth nibbling along the side of your neck, all in the midst of his patterned kisses. when he was this close, he got deep whiffs of your intoxicating perfume, the freshly shampooed hair on your head, the detergent you insisted he buy. heart-stopping — like it was every time he pulled you close.
it was true, he hated them. the tickle of his lips made you squirm — a futile attempt to slip away and leave him hanging. that never worked, and you knew it. "we're down to five, time's a-wastin'."
somehow, someway, neither of you made it up the stairs this time. all he did to prepare was send the stacks of mail flying from the island; the one you found yourself sitting on. graves stood between your legs, his caressing fingers your means of preparation. though, by the times your legs were exposed to the breeze — you and your body were eager enough for him.
the minutes decreased no matter how hurriedly he moved, and he always stuck to his rules. if there was a time limit, he'd get it done before zero.
"been thinking about you all day," he breathes. "by the looks of it, you have too, sweetheart." his tip prodded at your slick entrance, while the other hand hooked around your thigh to keep it hiked up with ease. wasn't the first time he ravished you on the kitchen counters, it certainly wouldn't be the last. slowly at first, then all at once — he thrusted inside of you.
once he got situated, there was no stopping him. every rock of his hips was purposeful and deep, yet his kisses remained delicate and tender. your moans muffled against his mouth, his lips pinkish and coated with saliva as it roamed your warmed face.
soon, your back was flat against the island with your legs still hanging off and in his grip. with every methodical movement, your walls tightened around his length and edged him closer to a finish. by now, you were certain your appearance was faulty; either ruined by sweat or the constant hands graves had on you.
despite being close within the first few minutes, he had gotten carried away ogling you. your gasps, your squinted eyes, the teeth indents on your bottom lip from how harshly you sunk into it. however, now there wasn't any restraint left in him. the tight coil in his abdomen begged for release, no matter how much stamina that remained in his body.
as the clock struck zero, he bottomed out with the force of his whole body — spilling every last drop inside of you. the oven beeped three times, as if on cue.
a string of curses against your lips as he leaned down to kiss you, sneaking in a few sloppy thrusts afterward. "i'll make it up to you later, make it worth your while." he pecked along your jaw, adjusting the strap of your top that had slid down your arm.
"it was worth my while." you replied between catching your breath, voice still quivering slightly.
he chuckled, fingers still playing with the fabric, "so, what's cooking? have i earned my right to know?" he was right; you always told him once the meal was ready, and that's what it was right now. the aroma hit your nostrils, as intoxicating as he found yours.
your eyes flicked over to the digital screen, still flashing and urging you to remove the pan, then it beeped for a second round as a reminder. "just a roast your mom taught me. thought you would've recognized the smell by now." you uttered, tracing your fingers along his blond stubble.
"hm, something must've distracted me, darlin'," he ran a tongue along his bottom lip, now gazing with admiration rather than hunger.
then, his brow raised with interest. both in humor and intense dread he added, "you've been calling my mother?"
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