#ooc: who knows what fresh hell this is
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dollyichi · 1 month ago
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WE LISTEN AND WE DON’T JUDGE : BLUE LOCK EDITION . . . m—dni. f ! reader / it’s either pretty tame or freaky idk / doing it raw / creamp!es / virginity and being inexperienced / some ooc but this is just for fun / not proofread
FEATURING ⋮ isagi, nagi, karasu, rin, barou, kunigami, chigiri
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isagi yoichi ⋮ before your relationship was established he really really liked you and didn’t want to mess it up. but then he wasn’t sure if you were on the pill but the sex was so good he ended up coming inside you. proceeded to suck his cum out for your pussy cause of the panic. didn’t have sex with you for a week after that but you were fine.
nagi seishiro ⋮ played a game where he can customize the character and got really pissed off because it wasn’t even half as pretty as you. sulking each time he dies because he think he ‘failed you.’ ended up quitting the game too because he found out there was sex in the game and he wouldn’t want the ‘game you’ being with anyone else that wasn’t him. even got jealous one time because he didn’t know that he was increasing his character’s relationship level with an npc who looked too much like his teammate. too many emotions while you’re watching him lose his mind when you’re perfectly fine eating snacks on the bed. having to console him by riding him and telling him you only love him and not barou.
tabito karasu ⋮ pays for your nails when you get an appointment so you could jack him off after. will also take photos of your nails for you, with one jerking his cock of course. got this pavlov effect that he gets hard every time you show him your fresh new set. yeah he’s ruined.
itoshi rin ⋮ he was a virgin before he met you, and ended up cumming each time he bottomed out the first few times you guys did it. he was inexperienced and very sensitive since he wasn’t used to it. he was still always hard after so it didn’t matter. unaware he was crying one time because he was so overstimulated while you’re clenching down so hard causing his cum to spill.
shoei barou ⋮ you were supposed to meetup with someone else that your friend suggested but you weren’t really sure if it was him when you arrived at the meeting place. ended up going on the date with him and hooking up at the end only for you to find out he wasn’t actually the guy. “what was i supposed to do? deny a pretty girl like you?” went on a few more dates anyway and ended up establishing the relationship properly <3 [ do not be like them! ]
rensuke kunigami ⋮ you were the first person to ever give him head. it felt too good and better than expected. you told him you weren’t too experienced but you worked on him like a pro. he was scared he could hurt you so instead of holding onto your head he gripped onto the wooden headboards. when he came, he held onto it too hard he broke the top part in half.
chigiri hyoma ⋮ moaned out your name during a wet dream. until it shifted, “take it! fucking take it” he said. his teammates weren’t sure if they should wake him up any time soon and they weren’t too sure how to face you after hearing that.
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do not copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost my works
note : i have no idea what came over me writing these but here u go crying during sex rin hell yeah!!!
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animeshotsh · 11 months ago
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Thats MY kid | Dad!Lucifer x Kid!Reader x "Uncle"Alastor |
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Summary: Alastor wants to take you out for some time with him!
Warnings: SFW | Probably OOC | Uncle!Alastor | Slight!YandereAlastor | Cursing | Canon violence | Canon hell |
Alastor tried to convince himself he was doing this to piss Lucifer off. No, he did not have any type of attachment to you, he did not see you as his own kid (even if you totally ignored his half request to be called dad when not being around Lucifer). And no, he was not hurt by that.
Right?
Yeah well no. You had touched his heart somehow and now Alastor was down bad, he swears you must have some type of demonic magic (and not just you being you and being amazing) because no one (only his mother) made him feel so much love in his life or after life.
"Uncle?" Your voice called him making Alastor look at you with his signature simile. "Why was dad angry when you showed up?"
~☆~☆~☆~
Earlier that day.
"ABSOLUTLY NO. GET OUT FROM MY HOUSE RIGHT NOW" Lucifer screamed at the radio Demon who just stared back.
"My my, I never had you for the possesive type of dad, with how much freedom you have give Charlie"
"Dont bring my daugther into this" Lucifer said almost breaking a pen. "We both know you want to take (Y/N) out just to get to me. And im not letting you create fake hopes for that kid. That kid is mine Alastor, maybe not by blood but its mine. And I promised I would protect them, for anything and anyone. You can piss me off however you want but dont bring (Y/N) into this".
Well fuck, Lucifer did care for you.
Also, fuck you Lucifer. You did not know how he felt (hell, not even Alastor knew how he felt towards you). After meeting you at the hotel, seeing you interact with the others and also play with his shadows, something started to form inside the old killer. And it got worse when you ran to him asking him how the radio worked, his insides making flips as he explained you.
He also did almost break when you were saying goodbye and hugged his legs. If that was any other Demon they would have ended dead on the spot. But it was you, and it felt right.
"Listen" Alastor started smile still on his face but his tone serious "Im not that low to bring (Y/N) into our....fights. You May not believe me but I care for that kid, if I did not for sure I would not have give him one of my shadows to protect them"
"Wait-you did what-"
"The point is" Alastor interrumped static forming "I dont plan on giving they fake hope, and thats all I Will say"
Silence passed for seconds that felt like hours, finally Lucifer nodded.
"Alright, i will let you take them for today, BUT anything and I mean anything happens to them, you will no longer be here" Lucifer said his tone for once being truly the one from a king of hell.
Alastor just nodded, taking his cane being ready to be out with you for the day.
"Oh and Alastor, I dont trust you. But i want (Y/N) to get here what they missed in life, so dont fuck this up"
~☆~☆~☆~
"Nothing your silly head must worry about!" Alastor assured you. However your face did show you were not buying what he said.
"Smile my Dear!! You know you are never fully dressed without one!!" Alastor tried again, stopping to take your hand and make you spin. Your laught coming out quickly making him relax.
"There it is!" He exclaimed then continue to walk besides you. Right now you two were in the cannibals town. For other demons and sinners this part was even more dangerous than the regular hell. But for Alastor it was like his home, demos in here knew him and liked him, and that extended to you as well. A few had waved and smiled, fresh blood showing. But Alastor had made sure you did not see any dead body, or parts of one.
"Now I have a suprise for you!, I have a friend who owns a restaurant and she accepted to take us in"
"...as food or clients?" You asked joking making the radio Demon smirk, radio laughts in the background.
"Well, since she is my friend, we are clients of coruse" Alastor responded getting a nod from you. "Of course you wont be eating anything...special, regular food I promise"
~☆~☆~☆~
When you two entered the restaurant you found it to be empy....aside from some workers who came quickly to guide Alastor and you to a private room with a big table.
There, on one of the chairs a very pale Demon with deep black eyes stood. Noticing Alastor she got on her feet coming closer.
"Alastor, its so good to see you again" she beamed at the radio Demon stopping a few inches away.
"And who may this little creature be?"
Jokes, Rosie knew who you were. He had to listen to Alastor talk about how unfair it was that you had decided to call Lucifer dad and not him.
Being by Alastor side gave you confidence so you took some small steps closer to her.
"Im (Y/N), im Alastor newphew" You stated proudly making Rosie smile showing her sharp teet.
"Thats wonderfull, now please sit I have prepared the best for both of you" Rosie exclaimed calling over the workers who appear to help the three of you settle down.
"For you my friend, I got you the finist meat from this side of hell" A plate with fresh flesh was presented making Alastor almost growl at it. "And for you little one a bird told me you loved chocolate" a big space on the table was now occupied with the biggest and most extravagant chocolate cake you have ever seen.
"I-its that all for me?" You asked not believing it. Getting a nodd from Rosie "and I cant eat all of it?" Again a nodd.
You almost cried when the first slice was put in front of you. No one ever got you cake in the living world.
"Oh and to help you not chocke with that, Alastor I have some.." Rosie paused looking for the right words seeing how you were now devouring the cake "a very special drink" she finally said, a bottle with red liquid appear. And for you, I prepared a mix of appel juice and strawberry" she said getting the most pure look from you.
"Thank you Miss"
"Oh, just call me Rosie" she responded.
~☆~☆~☆~
Turns out you ate most of the cake and now the sugar had gave you too much energy. Rosie had asked her workers to play with you some game of tag, without biting.
And hell, you were fast. Outrunning the old demons and even letting chairs fall to prevent them from coming closer.
Rosie used this moment to dig as much information about you from Alastor as she could find.
"So, Lucifer just decided to take them in? What a strange guy" she said sipping her own drink. "And now you are taking care of them?"
Alastor nodded "yes, you must see Lucifer's face when I show up and (Y/N) calls me uncle, he its so angry"
"But you truly care for them" Rosie stated. "You would never have asked me to prepare something that does not come from sinners or demons knowing where you are. You also made me order the town to keep the body display low to protect them"
Rosie could read Alastor as an Open book.
"Uncleeeee" your call alerted the overlords, seeing you running towards them with the biggest smile on your face. "The other said they are too tired to keep running after me, does this mean I won?"
"Well centraly!! I knew no one would be able to catch you. You are my relative after all"
You nodded and smiled going back to your chair to drink more juice. "This is amazing. Thanks a lot Mi-Rosie!"
"Aww, arent you the cutest" Rosie beamed her hands squishing your cheecks.
~☆~☆~☆
After the food and some more talking Alastor decided it was time for you to go back with Lucifer (and no, it was not because he had got at least 666 messages from him).
Rosie had told you to come whenever you wanted that no one would hurt you in her town.
~☆~☆~☆
"I had a great time Uncle!" You told Alastor as the big castle started to show in the distance.
"Well im glad Dear! Dont forget to tune the radio for my program tonight" Alastor said petting your head.
"I wont! Dad hates it but I love it, specially that music you use...ummmm jazz?"
Alastor started to think that just kindapp you and made you his kid instead would be for the best.
"(y/n)!!" A very distinct voice screamed
"DAD!!"
But he would not want to hurt your feelings so, seeing you from time to time would have to do.
He waited for the exchange to end, Lucifer asking you what have you done and also making sure you were not hurt. After that he nodded to himself.
"Alright, now go inside, Xin has prepared you a bath"
You nodded but turned towards Alastor going for his legs again to hug him.
"Thank you uncle!! No one ever took me to a restaurant or got me cake. Lets meet again soon" you smiled up to him showing pointy teet.
Before he could respond you were running inside the castle with a very worried maid behind you.
~☆~☆~☆~
"Well..looks like you did not ruin this" Lucifer stated seeing you run off.
"I told you I would not" Alastor responded offended. "(Y/N) has potential to grow up to be a powerfull sinner (no you did not) of course im going to look over them"
Lucifer just shoot Alastor a knowing smile then turned around to enter his home.
"Thanks for not breaking his heart" he finally said then the doors closed behind him leaving Alastor alone.
Of course he could not bring himself to do that, even if he wanted to. You were his newphew. His. Not someone else.
And no one breaks the things he loves.
Not even himself.
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imaginestuffs · 4 months ago
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Fresh Out the Slammer- Tyler Owens x f!Reader
Word count:3,858
Warnings: Reader's ex is an asshole, language, fluff, angst? my first time writing for Tyler, might be a bit ooc, sorry.
Summary: The reader gets out of a six-year-long prison sentence (relationship). Tyler is there to pick up the pieces and remind her that life is meant to be lived, not just survived. based on the song "Fresh Out the Slammer" by Taylor Swift
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(gif not mine!)
Standing in the middle of a rest stop with your team and a few other groups, your boyfriend decided to go off on you. 
Just hours earlier he had made a mistake while chasing a tornado. He told you that he wouldn't get too close, he wouldn’t let anything happen. But, that wasn’t the case at all. He decided to take a chance and get as close as he possibly could, and contrary to his beliefs, he did get too close. 
You yelled at him to turn around, just as everyone had over the radio. Yet, he persisted despite your begging to go back. Everyone else in the group had turned around but he just couldn’t face the fact that he was wrong. As the storm got closer you began to cry, muttering prayers and pleas to anyone or anything that would hear you. 
He began to yell at you to shut up and stop being a bitch. This only made you cry harder, and just as you dreaded a strong gust of wind followed by quite a large piece of debris hit the side of your truck. It hit the truck hard enough to tip it but not enough to make it roll. And for that, you believed your pleas had been heard. 
Now here you were after getting checked out by paramedics, luckily nothing severe had happened. Just a gash across your forehead that needed stitches and a few other cuts and bruises. Your friends were terrified when they found you both and confused as to why your boyfriend would do that. 
That brought you to the moment you knew it was over. 
“You know, if you weren’t such a mess, none of this would’ve happened.” he sneered. 
“I’m sorry, what?” you snapped back. He looked at you and rolled his eyes. 
“You heard what I said. You’re a damn mess. You sitting there in the passenger seat crying, pleading with God not to let us die. Like I didn’t know what I was doing.” He took a large step towards you and your breath hitched. 
“You weren’t listening to any of us, we could have been seriously hurt. We could have died Nathan!” your eyes were wide, and your heart was pounding. 
“There you go again, being as dramatic as you can. You’d do anything for attention and sympathy. It makes me sick, honestly. Get over yourself, no one cares (y/n)! I sure as hell don’t.” he said. Your heart dropped, and your eyes began to tear up. 
“Go ahead and cry just like always. I’m done with you and all your problems. It was your fault for the accident. If you weren't being a baby I would’ve been paying attention. Get out of here, we’re leaving. Go home and pack your shit.” his voice was as cold as his eyes were. 
He stormed away to where the rest of your group stood. They all looked at him in fear, not knowing how cruel he was. 
“What the hell are you looking at? Let’s get out of here before she comes begging for forgiveness,” he said in disgust. 
All you could do was stand there, watching all of the people you thought loved you turn their backs on you. Leave you there like you never mattered to them at all. 
They drove off and you felt your heart shatter. You didn’t know he hated you that much, and it made you feel sick. 
Feeling your stomach churn you quickly ran to the side of the building and threw up. As you were hunched over you felt hands grab your hair and someone rubbing your back soothingly. 
Once you had stopped you began to sob, you were completely overwhelmed and in quite a state. You didn’t know who had pulled you into a hug but you held on so tightly you could’ve bruised them. 
“Hey, hey. Shh, it’s ok I’ve got you.” the person's voice was something you held onto in your mind. “You’re gonna be ok, I promise,” the man spoke softly letting his hand smooth your hair down. 
You weren't sure how long you stayed that way but when you eventually calmed down your grip became lax. You rubbed at your eyes trying to get the world into focus again. 
Feeling someone’s eyes on you, you were reminded of the person next to you. 
Glancing up you saw a man you’d never expected to see. Tyler Owens. 
At that moment you didn’t care who he was, you just knew that you were grateful for him. 
You had come across him and his team a few times, and despite him being a little annoying he was always kind to you. 
His eyes held a softness you had never seen, and his smile was sympathetic. 
You realized then how ridiculous you must look. Dirty clothes mascara trails on your face and puffy eyes. You suddenly became embarrassed. 
“I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, I’m not doing this for attention. I just felt overwhelmed, and the crash and everything caught up to me all at once. Honestly, I didn’t mean for anyone to see me like this. I’m so sorry Tyler, You didn’t have to help me-” He cut off your rambling. 
“(y/n), listen to me,” he said and ducked down to try and meet your eyes. You turned your head away, so as gently as he could with a firm grip, he turned your face towards him. 
You looked at him and saw no judgment or anger. The only thing you saw was kindness, and with his hand on your cheek, you felt how steady he was. 
“You have no reason to be sorry. What you just went through is not easy to process. I know you’re not doing this for attention. You’re hurt, and you're exhausted, and I can assume you're still shaken up from the car flipping.” He said with a calmness you never thought of when it came to Tyler. 
You slowly nodded your head, trying to calm yourself. “It’s not your fault, none of it is your fault.” 
--
It had been a few months since everything happened, and you were beginning to see all of the things you ignored. With the fog lifted you could see that the way Nathan treated you was beyond terrible. Everything that didn’t go his way was your fault. The way he only said he loved you when you were in front of your families. All the times he chewed you out in front of the team, and then would persuade you to forgive him and believe that it was once again your fault. 
Tyler and his team ended up taking you home. He went with you to get your things from Nathan’s apartment. He made things bearable, he made you feel like you were important and that was so new to you. 
You became quite good friends with his group as well. They had all checked in on you as much as they could. They’d stop by and spend the night, just keeping you company. They wanted you to feel like you had people who cared for you. Honestly, they all fell in love with you. 
Currently, you were sitting at home curled up on the couch with your latest book. A cup of tea sat on the side table, and rain lightly drizzled on the roof. 
Hearing cars pull up outside your brows furrowed, and you bookmarked your page before getting up. With the blanket wrapped around your shoulders, you made your way to the window. There in your driveway was Tyler’s red truck, and the RV. You saw everyone pile out of the cars and you quickly walked to your front door and yanked it open. 
“Guys!” you shouted and dropped your blanket in favor of running down your porch towards your friends. Boone being the closest you crashed into him, your arms around him in a big hug. 
“Hey, (y/n)!” he exclaimed as he held you tightly. He swayed you a bit and you chuckled before pulling away. 
You went around and greeted all your friends. 
“Where’s my hug?” You heard Tyler’s voice sound from behind you. You turned to look at him with a big smile. 
You opened your arms, “Right here if you want it,” you teased. He chuckled slightly before walking towards you and swiftly wrapping you up in his arms. You let out a laugh when he picked you up off the wet grass. It was only then that you remembered that it was raining. You felt the water land on your warm face and you scrunched your nose. 
Tyler couldn’t help but smile at you, admiring the joy and contentment he could see on your face. It was a peace he never saw you have before. 
Setting you down you smiled up at him and grabbed his hand in yours before jogging towards the open door. Everyone else had gone inside to escape the rain, or at least that’s the reason they gave you. 
The whole team knew that the real reason they went into the house was to let you and Tyler have a moment. They could tell that something was happening between the two of you. 
You closed the door behind you, and Tyler picked up the blanket you had dropped on the floor. 
Luckily it wasn’t a full-blown storm so none of you were soaked. Just a few sprinkles on your clothes. You offered your friends coffee or tea, or a beer if they wanted one. Surprisingly they all opted for coffee. 
“The fact that you don’t put any cream or sugar into your coffee makes me ill Dexter.” You said jokingly. 
“Well, I want coffee not just a cup of cream and sugar,” he said and shrugged. You laughed as you walked into the kitchen to make the coffee for them. 
As you walked away everyone turned their attention towards Tyler. 
“So, are you gonna go talk to her?” Dani questioned him with a smirk. Tyler raised a brow at them and scoffed. 
“We all know you’re dying to ask her out Ty, just go do it,” Lily urged him.
He shook his head and sighed. “You guys are crazy, she just got her heart broken a few months ago. I doubt she wants to jump into something else so soon,” Tyler told them. 
Boone looked at his best friend with a questioning look. “Tyler, I swear to god if you don’t go in there and ask that woman out, I’ll do it for you,” he threatened. 
Tyler sighed in defeat. “What would I even say?” he asked them all. 
“Just talk to her like normal. Just be Tyler, that’s all she would want,” Dani patted his shoulder. 
“Shit,” Tyler mumbled before standing from his place on the couch. They all quietly cheered him on as he walked away. 
You had music playing as you made everyone’s coffee for them. Swaying around the kitchen you sang quietly under your breath. 
“Now pretty baby, I’m running back home to you. Fresh out the slammer I know who my first call will be to. Fresh out the slammer ah,” When the first verse started did a small spin. 
Tyler stood quietly in the doorway admiring you in your own world. It was as if nothing could touch you right now. In that moment he realized just how much he wanted to be yours. He knew he could treat you better. He would do anything to see you smile, and to see you without a care in the world. 
He let out a small chuckle as you spun. You heard him and turned around in surprise. You let out a breath realizing that it was just him. You smiled and walked over to him to grab his hands. 
You began to dance with him to the song. He twirled you away from him and pulled you back in. You laughed and began to sing the song again. 
“Now pretty baby, I’m runnin’ to the house where you still wait up, and that porch light gleams. To the one who says I’m the girl of his American Dreams.” He smiled down at you and pulled you in close. Your arms around his waist and his arms around your shoulders. You had never felt this safe before, and it was the happiest you had been in years. 
“But it’s gonna be alright, I did my time.” 
The song ended and he slowly pulled away. Your smile was soft and your gaze was warm as you looked up at him. He could feel his heart melt at the sight in front of him. 
He glanced at your lips, then back up to your eyes. He took a tentative step closer, placing a hand on your waist and the other on your cheek. You took a small step forward, and your smile turned shy. You placed one hand on his forearm and the other on his shoulder. 
He slowly leaned in, pausing for just a second, his nose brushing yours. Taking a moment to see if this was what you wanted. He felt your soft breathing against his lips, and he saw that your eyes were closed. 
“Please,” he heard your soft whisper, and without a second thought, he pressed his lips against yours. 
You immediately pushed up on your toes to press yourself closer to him. Tyler couldn’t remember a time he had ever felt this way for someone. His hand drifted from your face into your hair, gently tugging the soft strands. You sighed into the kiss and he took the opportunity to deepen it. The hand on your waist had moved to your back to keep you flush against him. 
The way he kissed you made you feel like you didn’t have to worry about being hurt. You didn’t have to tiptoe around him or be scared that one day he would just decide he didn’t love you. It felt like rain after a drought, sun after a cruel winter, Finally escaping the prison cell you had been in for the last six years. 
It felt like freedom. 
--
“Ty! Roll down the window!” you said in excitement. Tyler looked at you with a huge grin. 
“You better be careful baby,” he said, with that glint in his eyes. 
“Always am,” you winked as you pulled yourself as far out the window as you could. You were practically sitting with your legs in the car and your torso through the window. You held on to the cage with one hand letting yourself feel the rain and wind whipping through your hair. Tyler drove down the road as best as he could while stealing glances at you. 
He heard how you laughed and yelled into the wind. It was moments like those when he realized he had found his person. He found the person he wanted to spend forever with. 
When Tyler saw the clouds becoming more dense he tapped your leg softly as a way of telling you to come back in. You quickly slid yourself back into the seat with a huge smile. 
Your hair was slightly wet and completely wind-swept. 
“God, I love you,” he said and you chuckled. 
“Why do you say that?” you asked slightly out of breath. 
“Because you understand me. I don’t have to explain why I do this, because you love it just as much as I do,” he said and you smiled over at him. 
“If it wasn't for you, I wouldn’t have ever done this again. You brought back the love of chasing, I know with you I have nothing to be afraid of,” You told him and leaned over to kiss the corner of his smile. 
He placed on hand on your thigh and glanced over at you with so much love. 
“Are you guys ready for this?!” Boone’s voice came through the radio loud and clear. A laugh escaped you. 
Picking up the radio, you responded. “We are. Are you?” 
Boone could hear the smirk in your voice. Lily laughed, “See you on the other side!” she crowed. 
Tyler drove further into the storm's path, when he got exactly where you wanted to be, he anchored the truck into the ground. 
Tyler looked over at you with the same grin you had seen countless times now. The one that you’d never get tired of seeing, and you imagine your smile mirrored his. 
The tornado swirled around you, and the rush of adrenaline you always felt came flooding through you. Tyler's hand was still placed on your thigh, a grounding comfort for you. Despite your love for tornadoes and storms, there was always the smallest twinge of fear. But it was something you had grown to appreciate, it made you have so much more respect for Mother Nature. 
It was amazing to see the look on Ty’s face as he watched everything happen around him. There was never a time you had seen him unimpressed by a tornado, a storm, or just rain on a cloudy day. 
It was your favorite thing to witness. His passion and eagerness to understand these things. 
The tornado had passed and you and Tyler immediately looked at each other and burst into laughter. 
You leaped out of the truck and turned to watch the tornado forge its path across the field. 
Tyler came up behind you and scooped you up. He let out a shout of joy, and you laughed breathlessly. He set you down.
“Did you see that baby?!” he yelled. He ran a hand through his hair and you smiled. 
“That was beautiful Ty! I can’t believe that!” you enthused as you danced around the field. Tyler chuckled and grabbed your hand spinning you around. 
He pulls you close to him and you reach up to hold his face in your hands. Your hair was a bit frizzy from the rain earlier and your eyes were bright as you looked at him with so much love. 
“Tyler Owens, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me,” you said and pulled him down to kiss you. 
His hand crept under your shirt, and you shivered at his touch. His hands were rough, but it made you melt. He pulled away when a car horn honked a few feet away. 
You turned to see who it was. Expecting it to be the crew you were surprised to see Nathan and your old team get out of their cars. 
You rolled your eyes and sighed. Nathan stormed over to you but Tyler quickly stood in front of you. 
“Get out of my way,” Nathan said, trying his best to sound intimidating. 
It was true that Nathan was significantly shorter than Tyler, and you had to hold back your laugh. 
“What are you gonna do, Kick me?” Tyler questioned with a raised brow. 
“(y/n), we need to talk right now,” He used that voice that always used to scare you into doing what he wanted. He sounded pathetic now. 
“She doesn't owe you a damn thing Nathan,” Tyler said and took a step closer to him. 
You stepped forward to grab Tyler’s wrist and pull him back. Just as you did this, you heard your friends pull up next to you. 
They all got out of their cars as well and came over to see what was going on. 
When they saw Nathan, they all sighed in annoyance. 
“Why is Shorty here?” Dani asked. 
Nathan sent a glare their way, and Dani flipped him off. 
“Damn it, (y/n), Just let me talk to you!” he shouted angrily. 
Tyler was about to step in when you squeezed his hand. He looked down at you quizzically. 
“I can talk to him, it’s ok T,” you said and tugged him down to kiss his cheek. 
Tyler took a couple of steps back and let you stand in front of Nathan. 
“Nathan, what do you want?” you asked him with your arms crossed. 
“Why the hell are you with them? Why are you with him?” he questioned angrily. 
“I’m way better than him. I knew you were desperate but Tyler Owens, are you serious?” Nathan took a jab, expecting to get a reaction out of you. 
You just gave him a look as if asking if he was done talking. 
“You done?” You questioned with a raised brow. 
He stood there unable to find words, “What the hell is wrong with you?” he ended up spitting out. 
You scoffed. “What’s wrong with me? Nothing. But I can tell you what's wrong with you.” before he got a chance to clap back you spoke up again. 
“You treat everyone else around you like crap because you're bitter. You take out your anger on the people around you because you can’t face the fact that you’re miserable. You took everything out on me, it was always my fault. Every little thing that didn’t go right in your life, you blamed on me.” 
“That’s bullshit!” he interjected angrily. 
“Oh, really? Should I bring up the time you told me I was your biggest mistake, that if you never would have talked to me you wouldn’t be having so many problems. You made me believe that I was always the problem.” You stated with conviction.
“Being with you was a prison sentence, if you hadn’t left that day, I would’ve died handcuffed to the spell I was under, lost in the shade of how you were feeling. You leaving me there was the best thing to happen to me,” you affirmed. 
“By the way, for every time you called me a bitch, He calls me the girl of his American dreams.” 
You flipped him off with the sweetest smile you could muster. 
“Fuck you,” he spat at you and you kept a smile on your face. He turned away from you and began to walk away.
“One more thing Nathan! These people that I’m with now, are worth more than 100 of you,” you said and pointed to the whole group. 
They got in their cars and turned around as fast as they could. You turned to look at your friends and boyfriend. They all looked stunned. 
“What?” you asked with a smile. “That was my favorite thing that has ever happened,” Lily spoke and you chuckled. Dexter walked up to you and wrapped you in a hug, you hugged him back just as everyone else joined in on it. 
You laughed with everyone as you pulled away. “I love you guys, what more is there to say,” you shrugged. 
You felt arms wrap around your waist and you smiled before turning around to face Tyler. He smiled down at you. You reached up and took the hat off of his head and placed it on your own with a sly smile. 
“The girl of my American dreams, huh?” he questioned with a smirk. You tilt your head a bit as you gaze up at him. 
“You know it, cowboy,” 
---
“But it’s gonna be alright, I did my time,” 
487 notes · View notes
cranberrv · 8 months ago
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enchanted
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ in which dallas winston falls for the new girl
( a/n : i love this request sm!! reader is fem by the way, also not proofread also ooc! still cute tho! )
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not many people wanted to move to tulsa, but for some people, it was their only option. that was the first similarity spotted between you and dallas.
of course, you and dallas were on different sides of the track, different chapters in a novel. you moved to tulsa for your fathers work, you were perfectly happy back at your old city, but you didn’t have a choice. dallas moved to tulsa to escape from the new york police.
you thought tulsa was bland. it was only your first week here, your first week emerced with all the other teenagers at school, but everyone here was grey. especially the east-side kids, the greasers. they were all broke and it looked like all the life was sucked out of them.
you, on the other hand, were fresh from los angeles, with a feminine flare to yourself and a genuine kindness that was rare in tulsa. even the rich kids were rude, but you were anything but.
it was the start of your second week of school, and your least favourite class was science. not because of the subject, it was just that the people in your class gave you dirty looks and the teacher had a voice that could put you to sleep. and your lab partner in the seat next to you had been away the entire time, leaving you to do projects alone.
today was supposed to be the exact same as usual. at the start of class, you walk in and sit down alone. the teacher does the attendance, and marks your mystery lab partner absent. today is independent work, finishing up a lab report and then doing a worksheet on protons and electrons. you want to fall asleep, it’s so boring. you’re listening to every silent conversation and looking out the window for a source of entertainment. you got your wish soon enough, as the door creaks open.
“hello,” your teacher greets to the boy that enters the room. “you are?”
“dallas winston,” he answers, throwing his burnt-out cigarette in the trash.
your teacher nods her head. “ah, you’re dallas winston,” the voice is slow as she pieces it together. you wonder why the words are said in such distaste.
you’ve given up on your work, watching dallas winston. he looks like an east-side kid, his hair is a bit messy and he radiates confidence. he certainly puts out an energy unlike anyone in this school.
they talk for a bit longer, the teacher obviously telling him it’s not okay to skip class. dallas tries to argue back for a little bit, but eventually gives up and holds his hands up in mock-surrender. the teacher takes a breath then points to you, giving him a worksheet and telling him to go sit next to you. he follows the teachers finger, and he tilts his head when he looks at you, trying to figure out if he knows you or not. his eyes light up a bit when you make eye contact with him. you like the way he looks at you.
dallas walks over, and sits next to you. there’s a few moments of silence as he gets himself settled. spitting out his gum, taking off his leather jacket, and finally landing his eyes on his sheet. he reads over the questions, and realizes has no idea how to do any of this. “you got a pencil?” he asks you.
“yeah, in my pencil case, help yourself,” you answer, and he grabs your pencil case and sifts through it to find one.
he takes one out and hands it back. you say thank you, and he thinks it was unnecessary to be polite about a simple thing but doesn’t say anything. “mechanical, huh?” he says about the pencil, pushing on the bottom to get the lead out. “expensive. what, you a soc or somethin’?”
you look from your worksheet up at him. he has a nice jawline, you notice. “a what?” you ask. an innocent question in your eyes, but one that has a lot more meaning for dallas.
who the hell doesn’t know what a soc is? he stares at you for a second, eyebrows furrowing. not out of annoyance, but out of genuine confusion about why you don’t know about the class-status that built up the entire reputation of tulsa. you know what a greaser is, but not a soc. and you barely know what a greaser is, anyway. you’ve just been told to stay away.
“you know, a rich-kid. a west-side kid.” you still look confused, and he comes to the conclusion that you’re not from here. so when he notices the confused look in your eye, he changes the subject. “where ya from, sugar?”
“i just moved from los angeles,” you tell him. his eyes drift down to your cute lace pink top. he thinks it’s totally something that someone from LA would wear. there’s a speck of silence as he analyzes you, and you feel the need to break it.
“i shoulda guessed,” he says with a raise of his eyebrows. you don’t know if he’s being mean or not. you hope he’s not mean.
“what do you mean?”
“i mean you look like you’re from hollywood or somethin’, with all the lace and the flashy bows and shit..” he’s poking at the lace lining your top. you can see him thinking about something while he’s looking at your lace. “christ, your lingerie collection must be insane, huh?”
there’s a blink of silence and a look of slight disbelief on your face. “what?”
“i’m messin’ with ya, sweetheart,” he chuckles.
“oh,” you say softly, cheeks going a bit hot.
“so,” he starts, switching the topic to a different note. “why’d ya move to fuckin’ tulsa?”
“my dad got a job here,” you explain, fiddling with your pencil in your hands. “why?”
“just curious,” he shrugs. “you know, most people don’t move to this hellhole.”
“you did,” you say, and he tilts his head. you think he’s looking at you because you’re just assuming things, and you’re probably wrong, so he’s judging you. “did you not?”
he cracks a smile. he wasn’t judging you, simply curious as to how you guessed he wasn’t from here. “yeah, i did, sugar,” he nods, leaning back in his seat. “how’d ya know?”
“your accent,” you explain. “very new yorker.”
“yeah? you like it?”
you mirror his smile. “yeah, i do.”
the class falls silent as the teacher insists everyone quiets down and focuses. dally's voice drops to a whisper when he responds, playfully pushing you away. “alright, miss hollywood, go do your work,” he teases. “gonna tell the teacher you’re distracting me,” he threatens, obviously playing around because he knows that he’s the one distracting you.
you smile and turn your head back to your sheet to finish it up. you begin peacefully working. dallas can’t help but stare at you as you do so. nibbling at your pencil while you’re thinking, constantly adjusting your top, brushing your hair out of your face every now and then, he notices it all. he can’t help it, he thinks you’re the sweetest person he’s ever seen.
you look up at him, feeling his intense gaze on you. you make eye contact and instantly turn away again, cheeks going pink like a tulip. why is he looking at you? do you have something on your face? you don’t know. you subconsiously wipe your cheek to make sure, and adjust your top again.
dallas finally looks away, and you take a breath and relax your shoulders. as much as he was acting sweet towards you, you could tell he had this rough edge that you should be worried about. but what truly worried you is the fact that his edge didn’t worry you. if anything, it lured you in. you wanted to learn everything about him. he was like the ocean, he was calm and beautiful but you had to swim out far and dive deep down to find out everything about him. and it felt like no one had, yet. he was a mystery. you liked that.
as you’re working, you hear the rip of lined paper beside you, then the scratch of a pencil. a few moments later, dallas hands you a piece of paper with a note on it.
“how do you do question 1?“ it reads.
you read the note and look up at him, smiling. you write down your answer, saying that he needs a calculator. you hand him yours, assuming correctly that he doesn’t own one.
he slides you another note a few seconds later. “it keeps saying weird shit on the calculator”
“what does it say?” you write back.
he takes longer than usual to write. you wait in anticipation. after what feels like forever (but was probably 15 seconds) he hands you another note. you read the numbers. you don’t understand how he got that answer. you read over it again, and then it clicks. it’s his phone number.
he’s looking at you as you read it. you look up at him and gently nod, putting his number in your pocket. you rip another piece of paper and write down, “i’ll call you.”
he reads it and writes back, and is about to hand it to you, until he quickly takes it back and adds something. then he hands it to you.
“good. (p.s. your little lace top is kinda cute)”
you read his little p.s. and smile to yourself, then to him. you mouth thank you to him. he mouths “anytime” back.
you have a feeling this won’t be the last time you and dallas winston say hello to each other in science class.
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megumimania · 2 months ago
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EX FACTOR — gojo satoru
summary: don’t fuck your ex! (kidding) when a booking conflict forces you to room with gojo for the night, will your hatred of him last through the night or will you fall prey to his charms again?
warnings: smut (17+), afab reader, gojo is slight ooc but his slutty ways still remain, gojo and reader trying and failing to stand on business, exes to ???, they still love each other ya’l
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ah paris, the city of love.
unfortunately the effects of the city fall flat on you as you’re stuck in a cramped car with a tinny voice in your ear belonging to the strongest sorcerer gojo satoru (aka your ex boyfriend). if shoko and utahime could see you right now they would be laughing their asses off.
initially this mission was supposed to be carried out by nanami and gojo but the night before they were scheduled to leave, nanami caught a “stomach bug.” this was unlike the formidable sorcerer who never ate anywhere that had a below 3 hygiene rating and he always made that fact known. so why would he eat at a low grade sushi restaurant, is a mystery to some.
the lack of readily available sorcerers at hand meant that you were left to accompany gojo on the mission. you were ready to drop everything at a hat for a trip to paris. aside from other neighbouring countries you never really ventured outside of asia and you were excited to explore paris and see what it had to offer
however what people forgot to conveniently mention,(or what you forgot to read) was that gojo would be coming onto the trip and by the time you found out it was too late to object, the paperwork was already signed.
he’s busy yapping away at poor ijichi who is trying to keep his eyes on the road as gojo eagerly shows him something on his phone that ijichi could honestly could care less about. you feel pity for the man, even though his pay is generous it could never be enough to deal with gojo’s antics 24/7.
“what picture should i post for thirst trap thursday?” he practically shoves the phone in your face as he swipes between the two photos. you’re about to curse out his entire bloodline for disturbing your peace but a pleading look from ijichi forces you to play nice.
the man has already been through hell and back from trying to keep you both from ripping each other’s throats out on this trip, so pretending to be amicable with your ex is the least that you could do for his sake. so you entertain gojo’s latest whim as he shows the first picture.
picture one is a classic thirst trap.
he’s fresh out of the shower, hair damp and his towel resting dangerously low on his hips, water droplets decorate his abs and the low light highlights his taut muscles. of course his face is out of the frame. it’s seductive, it’s alluring and it’s—
you’re getting ahead of yourself.
if gojo saw you staring he makes no gesture to acknowledge it.
you clear your throat hoping it’ll dispel the heat that subtly warms your cheeks. thankfully the windows are down as you zip through the busy parisian streets hearing tidbits of french as the wind whips at your skin. its honestly embarrassing how much he still has an effect on you months after the breakup but you couldn’t deny that he is a fine man, even though he looked a bit whorish in this picture.
“is that it?” you say coolly, trying not to seem too affected by the borderline r-rated pic. he pops some candy in his mouth as he passes his phone over to you with a wink.
you almost want to roll your eyes at his blatant attempt to try and rile you up but you are not the woman you were 5 minutes ago, you were not gonna stoop down to his level.
you were way better than that.
“you already know my password,” the way he’s so casual about it throws you off guard. you kinda expected him to be more cagey with something as high regarded as his phone. only god knows the amount of men and women who were in his dms right now, the mere thought of that sending a current of jealousy running through you.
picture two is less obscene but it’s still slutty as hell.
he’s dressed in the fuckboy classic: a plain white tee, grey sweat pants and a gold chain. he sure knows how to work the hell out of the outfit though. everything fits a little bit too well, leaving nothing to the imagination.
“well?” he stretches out the word, snapping you out of your reverie with a smug grin on his face that makes you forget all the reasons why you found him attractive in the first place. “whaddya think?”
“you look like a slutty jack frost,” you replied almost immediately, revelling in the way his smug grin was practically wiped off his face.
humbling him was your favourite past time. after all, knocking him down a few pegs was needed for everybody’s sake.
“why can’t you ever compliment me normally?” he groans snatching his phone from you. you’re more shocked he took your thinly veiled insult as a compliment but you ignore it for now.
gojo knew better than to ever ask you to compliment him normally, especially after the breakup where most of the words you would use now to describe him would probably get you a write up from the higher ups.
yet he still tried as if one day, the words that would spill from your lips about him would be one of admiration and not of hatred. for someone who was supposed to be the strongest and smartest man alive he was pretty naive and pretty fucking stupid sometimes.
“i refuse to feed your fat ego.” you crossed your arms as you looked at the blurring landscape in front of you, ignoring the way your traitorous heart was beating as his leg brushed yours. this was bridgerton levels of depravity that would put anthony bridgerton himself to shame.
god you seriously needed to get laid.
luckily curses weren’t as much of an issue in other countries compared to places like japan, so all you had to deal with was low grade curses lurking around touristy areas like the notre dame cathedral and the paris catacombs which made the hair on the back of your neck stand up.
the day left you tired, sweaty and irritable. the toll of exorcising curses finally hitting you like bricks, making your muscles sore and achy. all you wanted was to take a nice hot bath and take a nap but of course nothing can ever go your way when gojo is around.
gojo accidentally booked one double room for the both of you and after several minutes of back and forth with the receptionist who made it clear in both english and french that she wouldn’t be able to make last minute adjustments, you had to settle with sharing a room with your ex.
you stalked over to the hotel room and made a beeline for the shower before gojo could open his mouth to make a witty remark.
desperately needing a minute to yourself before you dealt with the situation at hand, the hot shower helped melt away all the stress and tension of the day. a sigh of relief left your lips as you rolled your shoulders from side to side, feeling content and much more like yourself.
it is 11:30pm in paris and you still haven’t slept. you are too busy arguing with gojo about who is gonna sleep where.
“it’s fine, i’ll just sleep on the couch,” you grabbed the pillows off the bed and walked over to the couch before gojo grabbed your arm, pulling you towards him.
“c’mon, you know that if you sleep on the couch that you’ll complain in the morning about how bad your back is!” gojo interjected, still holding your arm but now in an awkward hold once he realised what he was doing. the brief moment of contact sent shivers down your spine.
“and before you start with your line of argument, just remember okinawa 2016.” he smiled knowingly, watching your face twitch at the mention of that godforsaken vacation-turned-mission you took together.
the trauma of that year was permanently etched into your skin. if it wasn’t already marked by the scar , it was marked by the psychological effects of the vacation that still crept up on you.
“fine, you win.” you huffed, releasing yourself from his hold getting into bed with him. it was honestly too late to argue and from what it sounded like you were the only two people on your floor who were still up. plus you didn’t want to unleash hell on poor i
the pillow wall between you both could only do so much as gojo’s limbs found their way to yours, as if it was muscle memory. they had you trapped in a deadlock—his arms snug around your waist and his head buried into the crook of your neck, his eyelashes tickling your skin.
the heat was unbearable making sleep practically impossible for you, the constant tossing and turning, dampening any chance of you getting a good night’s rest before your early flight in the morning.
“can’t sleep?” his voice rasped, still heavy with fatigue. maybe it was the sleep deprivation or the way his breath tickled your neck, that made him all the more appealing to you right now.
“nope.” you hummed in response not wanting your mind to focus on how close he was to you. how your bodies were practically flush against each other, how you could feel the faint sounds of his heart beat.
his touch strayed for a second, his fingers beginning to trace circles on your waist. a light innocent touch that was supposed to be soothing, stirred a current of desire you fought to keep at bay. knowing that if you relented for one second that the hatred you held for him would dissipate without second thought.
that’s why this whole thing was a stupid idea, letting him take you on an impromptu tour of paris, agreeing to share a room let alone a bed with him in the dead of night.
how could you claim to hate your ex when you had no qualms about being in his presence for so long? god you were full of utter shit but it didn’t bother you, at least you tried (and failed) to stand on business, not many people could say that.
gojo knew what he was doing his wandering hands trailing down from your arm to the dangerously skimming the waistband of your panties, each touch would send a shiver down your spine and part of you wished that he’d quit being a tease and give you what you wanted but you knew that was part of his charm.
his touch was almost exhilarating, leaving goosebumps in its wake. it was almost embarrassing how he barely touched you and you were already a wreck. “such a needy girl f’me, aren’t ya?” he mused, revelling at how wet you already were from his mere teasing.
all rebuttals were squashed when he attached his lips to your sweet cunt, throwing the duvet off of you, leaving you exposed in the moonlight. the sudden dip in temperature making your nipples harden, you call out for his name several times whilst he ravishes you without hesitation, even having the cheek to spell his name with his tongue.
“fuckkk right there.” you pant out, grabbing fistfuls of his hair to which he lets out a low growl at the sensation, slurping up all of your juices with a fervour that was almost primal, animalistic to say the least. your orgasm crashes over you like a freight train leaving you heady and slightly dizzy.
he looks up from where he is, hair tousled and his signature cerulean blues taking on a more darker hue as he reaches up to kiss you, his lips and cheeks stained with the glossy sheen of your release. his hand tweaks your nipples earning an impromptu moan from you that he swallows up as he deepens the kiss, rutting his hips into your thigh.
it was no surprise that he was already hard, he often joked that eating you out was his favourite past time besides going out to eat at his favourite sweet shops, which made you question if he had an oral fixation. to which he replied if it
gojo pulls down his boxers, his cock springing up against his washboard abs, the sight alone is enough to make you drool. you forget how pretty his dick was, his mushroom red tip that was leaking with precum to the prominent veins that ran on the underside of his cock.
“open your mouth f’me.” he asks and you oblige his request as he stuffs your mouth with his cock. the warm velvety confines of your mouth is enough to make him cum already but he holds out, not wanting to ruin the fun just yet. “missed that pretty mouth of yours, taking me so well.” he groans, holding your head as he fucks your mouth, the sound of you gagging on him is enough to make him lose control.
whilst gojo loved to brag how he found better, truth was that nobody could compare to you—hell even elicit the same sounds he was making when he was with you. sure his hookups and short lived relationships were enjoyable they lacked the electricity that passion he was searching for, the one that came naturally to the both of you when you were together.
“fuck princess you’re killin’ me over here.” he heaves before pulling out of your mouth entirely letting the tip of his dick rest pretty against your lips. you whine at the loss of contact but he gently pushes you back onto the bed, teasing your entrance.
“quit being such a tease.” you said annoyedly, before the air was knocked out of your lungs as he fully enters you in one fell swoop, your jaw slackens as you try to accomodate his size. he tuts, giving you a look of mock disappointment. “my, my, didn’t they teach you that patience is a virtue?”
he grins placing a kiss on your shoulder as he began to move in and out of you slowly, drinking up all your whines and moans as he picked up the pace, his hips driving into yours at a brutal pace. your tits jiggling with every sharp thrust, your hands find his way to his back to steady yourself.
“shit ‘toru, mmph!” his hand clamps over your mouth watching your eyes roll into the back of your head as he fucks you senseless, bullying your pretty little cunt. “shh, you gotta be quiet princess, ijichi is a couple doors down and you’re not doing a good job at hating my guts right now.” he says with a smirk.
in the midst of all this passion you forgot that you weren’t the only people on this floor, you knew that you and gojo were gonna be public enemy number one by the morning.
strands of his hair is stuck to his forehead as he thrusts gets more sloppy, his hips stuttering as your cunt milks him dry. god he’s missed this, missed you and your pussy that was truly made for him. at this point he has devolved into common man, becoming more pussy drunk as he tries to delay his orgasm so he can see you cum again.
“you gonna give me what i want?” his voice sounding less demanding and more desperate, his hands snaking down to your clit to coax one more orgasm out of you whilst trailing kisses down your neck. the sensation is dizzying: his presence, his words, his touch—all leading to your undoing as one last orgasm rips through you, leaving you spent.
his orgasm follows shortly after yours, collapsing on top of you with a sigh. the two of you stay like that for a while, not wanting to ruin the post coital haze with discussions of what this meant for you both going forward.
so you dont.
but ijichi does take note of the sudden change in atmosphere in the car on the way back to the airport. it’s more quiet, less bickering and shenanigans. gojo is less annoying, hell he’s even asleep!
he knew something did happen in the last night, it wasn’t like you two kept it discreet by any means but when he catches a glimpse of your hands interlinked together it all makes sense.
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ixiot-ghostrebel · 1 year ago
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I don't know if your request is open can you write Creator reader who favorites Zhongli, Venti, Nahida?
They need love ok 🙄
Yep yep, got it! Lemme see what I can pull off :)
Favoritism! With The Archons (Discluding Ei and Furina—)!
(Warning: Might Be OOC!)
Nahida
She honestly loves the attention you give her! She's really happy to get to spend time with you, and really get to know you and who you really are despite your title as the Almighty Creator.
Loves it if you play with her—and especially loves to learn the kind of games that you played before you re-descended down to Teyvat. There's UNO...and that's pretty much all that I can remember but you get the idea—
Loves visiting you in your dreams to see what you dream of. The Almighty Creator would surely have dreams of all forms filled with creative and inspiring ideas!
Nahida would 100% try to ask you to hang out with her through the streets of Sumeru. She has no shame :D And, if anything, her people would see this as a blessing.
"Come on, Your Grace! I want to show you somewhere I found!" Nahida would also take you to the Aranaras, where you would eat fresh fruit, make flower crowns, and even play some hide-and-seek.
She loves making and meeting new friends, the Almighty Creator is no exception! Spend some time with her as much as you can, Nahida will cherish it!
Venti
Hohoho, you're down to hang out with this carefree bard? Well, the first hangout will definitely be inside the most extravagant tavern of all time!
Yes, he means Angel's Share. Or the Cat's Tail. Man has his standards and he ain't afraid to take you there. Prepare for the best wine you'll ever taste, because Venti sure as hell is proud of the wine of Mondstadt.
Loves to share ballads and songs with you. Some of them are even based off on you! Loves when you give him your feedback as well.
Give him apples. He'll be happy—that's not saying a lot. Any apple dish, he will eat. Even if the apple is very little.
"Yahoo, Your Grace!~ Wanna hear a ballad this amazing bard has made for you?" Would absolutely perform these ballads during Windblume Festival, so please praise him :D
Zhongli
OSMANTHUS WINE TASTES THE SAME AS I— *Aggressive Truck Noises Driving Pass*
Take him out for food, buy him any gifts, ANYTHING. This man loves anything you'll give as well (trust me)
Just take some time to spend with him. Strolling through the area, the market, it doesn't matter—he cherishes all moments with you, as you are a friend (and more cough cough)
Osmanthus wine. Yes.
"Ah, Your Grace. I am blessed to know that you have the time to spend it with me. Please, allow me to pour you a fine cup of tea." If you're a tea lover, you both are gonna have a really good time.
Zhongli loves to share stories, so if you like to know more about Liyue's history, you came to the right guy :)
He's also a good listener, so you can also share stories and he will be rapt with attention. He loves every single story you tell.
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Ghost Rebel Side Notes: My procrastination is impeccable. I'm on a living streak, clearly. Welp, I hope this satisfies you—hopefully, the next request doesn't take too long (watch me eat those words).
✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦
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sleepingdeath-light · 10 months ago
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having a gomez and morticia-esque dynamic with his fem overlord s/o hcs ; alastor
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requested by ; anonymous (15/02/24)
fandom(s) ; hazbin hotel
fandom masterlist(s) ; here
character(s) ; alastor
outline ; “So good to have you back!
Can I request Alastair with an fem Overlord! Reader? Like they have a relationship similar to Morticia and Gomez Addams, especially when Mortica says “Don’t torture yourself Gomez, that’s my job.” Reader is just elegant and classy in a sense with her man 👀”
note ; there are some potentially (very mildly) ooc bits here and there for the sake of filling the prompt, but otherwise this is exactly what the outline requested as best as i could write it lol ^^
warning(s) ; references to canon-typical levels of violence, but mostly fluff!
the two of you are, to put it bluntly, a match made in hell — which is rather fitting as your first meeting occurred in hell itself shortly after alastor’s reign of terror as ‘the radio demon’ had first began
very few people are aware that the two of you are in a relationship, or that you know each other at all, and that’s simply because neither of you see the point in broadcasting your attachments and personal lives to the entirety of hell — your husband may be an egotistical radio broadcaster with a kill count that most sinners can only dream of achieving, but he preferred to keep his private life private and your marriage was just one of those things
(of course rosie is keenly aware of the two of you and teases alastor relentlessly, and lovingly, for how utterly in love with you he is — but he lets it slide because he knows she means well and wouldn’t dream of causing you harm)
but when you’re together it’s plainly obvious, even to those who don’t know you well at all, that the two of you are deeply obsessed with each other — that’s mainly down to your unusual, and yet somehow not at all surprising for the two of you, displays of affection which most would find deeply off putting
of course your alastor is a gentleman and can appreciate the more traditional romantic displays — he never fails to greet you with a kiss on the back of your hand and a bouquet of the finest flora hell has to offer, and he’s always ready to offer you his jacket if you complain about the weather — but it doesn’t just stop at those more ‘normal’ acts (something that you come to be more and more grateful for as your relationship progresses from courting to dating to something resembling marriage without all of the formal paperwork)
there are displays of affection that are more reliant on his more cannibalistic side, for one: diligently licking any and all of your wounds clean whilst earnestly complimenting the rich flavour of your blood (after dealing with whichever poor soul decided to go after you in the first place), talking cheerily about all of the ways he’d prepare your flesh if ever you let him (and listening with rapt attention as you discussed your own plans for any errant limbs or slabs of flesh that he may lose in battle), making sure to get to rosie’s cafè as early as possible to ensure that you only get the best of your favourite baked treats, and staring hungrily down at you as you gingerly wipe the blood from his lips and cheeks with your fingers and lick them clean in a way that most anyone else would find disturbing
there are shows of love that lean more into your mutual sadistic tendencies: kissing sweetly whilst the blood of your victims is still fresh on your skin and clothes, slow dancing to whatever song he’s broadcasting from his radio on top of the corpses of your slain targets, wistfully admiring each other as you rage and show your full demonic forms to anyone who dared to cross you (a precursor for plenty of compliments and private affection later on, i’m sure), and you stepping forward and coaxing him out of a violent episode by insisting that he should torture you instead with that sweet tone of voice that you know he can’t say ‘no’ to
there are acts that are a mixture of the three — such as you calling each other the sweetest pet names in a mixture of your spoken languages (‘love’, ‘cher’, ‘dearest’, etc.) before going on to say something truly monstrous that would have everyone else in earshot staring with a mixture of horror and disgust, or him taking you out to get your tailored clothes repaired since he so loves taking care of you after a spat with another (now likely very dead) overlord left your clothes torn in places and stained with all sorts of viscera
and, of course, amongst all of that you can guarantee that alastor is being nothing short of encouraging, adoring, and protective over you (read: quick to threaten anyone who intends to cause you harm into silence and slaughtering anyone who refuses to comply with that warning) and your honour as you go about your life as an overlord alongside him — he knows you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself, but he was raised to be a gentleman and he’s certainly not going to stop being one just because he happened to go to hell
truly, it’s like the two of you were made for each other
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Hello! If u don't mind i would like to req Tom Riddle x m!reader where reader is an exchange student and surprise surprise he's a parselmouth! So let's say, speaking with animals r common on where he live, n obviously Tom was intrigued
U can do anything w this prompt, sfw, nswf, whatever! I js need to feed my TR brainrot
omg yes!! this is a brilliant idea!!! thank you for requesting, I love this prompt so much
the TR brainrot is so real😔
I made the reader confident, because I felt like they would be interesting to someone as narcissistic as Tom, and he'd probably feel more curious about the new boy who seems so oddly comfortable in what should be this new, unfamiliar environment.
hope you enjoy!
tags: x male reader, kinda ooc Tom? (not really though, this is how I imagine he would act around others at Hogwarts, seeing as he was supposed to be charming and perfect, you know?), suggestive thoughts (Tom has pretty interesting thoughts about reader 😏), cocky!reader, use of y/n, not beta-read
word count: 1564
Fresh Face - TR x male!Slytherin!reader
The Great Hall buzzed with chatter, friends catching up after the holidays, first-years being welcomed to their new houses, excitement and general anticipation for the new year. Tom sat, surrounded by his friends, making idle small talk with a pleasant smile painted on his face.
Suddenly, McGonagall stood at the podium, gesturing for silence. A respectful hush fell over the Hall as people broke off their conversations to tune in.
Some keen individuals began to notice that the Sorting Hat was still out. Other even more observant students noticed the figure stood off the side of McGonagall. Some particularly enterprising students made the connection between these two observations, and concluded that this figure was a new student, about to be sorted.
But that still left the question: why was he separated from the first years?
Only one specific student, Tom, noticed that the figure was a young boy, around his age, who stood with confidence and a calmness that was odd for someone clearly in an unfamiliar environment. Tom also noticed that the boy was dressed in brand new school robes, unmarked but pressed and proper, high quality and perfectly tailored, highlighting the boy’s long legs and muscular chest and strong thighs and-.
Tom moved on.
He noticed more. He noticed movement.
Movement?
Yes, right there, on the boy’s shoulders, around his neck (and what a lovely neck it was, Tom wanted to know what it would look like bruised and with his hands wrapped around it-). A dark, sleek thing, winding about the boy, a small, narrow head, a flicking tongue...
A snake?
Tom watched, in curiosity, as the snake shifted, pressing its face close to the boy's ear, hissing something Tom couldn’t hear, too far away. He watched, in shock, as the boy chuckled, slanting a gaze towards the snake and rolling his eyes (Godric, what Tom wouldn’t give to see those gorgeous eyes roll for another reason-).
Bloody hell, what was with him today, these cursed thoughts were getting out of hand.
Tom watched, intrigued and definitely not obsessively so, as the boy (a parseltongue?), turned back to the podium, attention back on Professor McGonagall, who had finished her speech.
Tom was ashamed to realise he had heard absolutely none of it, and he could only watch as McGonogall turned to the mysterious boy, calling him up.
“Y/n Y/l/n, if you could please come up.” McGonagall called out.
Well, at least he knew his name.
Tom watched as the boy strode up the stage, nodding politely at Professor McGonagall, a small gesture of respect and deference that detracted nothing from his confidence. The snake was still on the boy's shoulders, mostly hidden by the boy’s robes.
The boy, Y/n, sat down on the chair, elegant and comfortable, waiting as McGonagall placed the hat on his head. Y/n’s eyes slipped shut for a moment, a small smirk spread across his face as he opened them again, a loud declaration of “Slytherin!” ringing out across the Great Hall from the old hat.
Tom found that a small, barely noticeable twitch had occurred on his own lips, tugging them slightly upward in a mirror of Y/n’s smirk. Tom quickly reigned in his features, unfortunately not before Mattheo, his younger brother, noticed it, a teasing smirk spreading across his face, an expression promising misery later.
Suddenly, gasps rang out across the Great Hall, and Tom watched in awe as the boy gracefully stood from the seat, each movement powerful and controlled. That wasn’t what the mindless fools about him were gasping at, however. They were gaping at the beautiful, gorgeous snake on Y/n’s shoulders, uncurling from where it was looped about his neck, baring its head and hissing out at the crowd.
“Look at these idiots.”
Tom raised a brow at the snake’s rather offensive comment.
Y/n chuckled, a hand lifting to stroke at the snake’s head, a languid smirk on his face as he walked off the stage, joining the Slytherin table amidst hesitant cheers and staggered applause.
“I know, Nyx, I know. But it’s rather funny isn’t it?”
Tom could barely hold back the smirk as he heard your response.
“I suppose...”
Tom grunted in surprise, glaring at Mattheo, who had elbowed him in the ribs, and at Theo and Enzo, who were snickering behind their hands and avoiding his gaze by collapsing into each other.
“What’s got you gawking, Tommy?” Mattheo asked, a cocky smirk on his face as he avoided Tom’s retaliation.
“None of your business.”
“Aww come on, don’t be like that Tommy. I’m your little brother, it’s practically my duty to make it my business.”
Tom scowled, swatting at Mattheo’s head and slapping him, hard.
Mattheo whined, rubbing his head and glaring at Tom.
“You’re mean. And your boy is staring at you.”
Tom was embarrassed at how quickly he turned his head, the tips of his ear flushing slightly and a scowl fixing on his face as Mattheo cackled with Theo and Enzo, laughing at him.
All thoughts of revenge and fratricide were chased out of his mind as he looked at you, your (beautiful, merlin) eyes already staring at him, meeting in a thrilling clash of wills.
The snake, Nyx, flicks its tongue, looking at Tom assessingly.
A shame you were seated so far, Tom had no means of speaking with you right now. Whatever, he was a Prefect, and in your new house. He’d find time.
You smiled passively before turning away, paying attention to the young boy engaging you in conversation.
Tom, too, turned back to his brother and friends, scowl returning as he watched them falling over each other and howling with laughter.
****
You were reading peacefully in the common room, catching up on topics covered at Hogwarts your old school hadn’t covered, when you felt a presence approaching you, and the cold nose of Nyx, your pet snake, pressing against your neck. You look up, seeing Tom Riddle, Slytherin’s perfect prince, heading towards you.
You slid a bookmark into your textbook, marking the page before closing it and setting it aside. As Tom approaches you, he smiles pleasantly, eyes calculating as he greets you.
“Y/l/n, right? Nice to meet you, I’m Tom Riddle, the Slytherin prefect.” He extends a hand, elegant, pale, and slender. You take it, shaking it in yours and noting how cool it was to the touch in contrast to your own warmth.
“Yes, nice to meet you, Riddle.”
Nyx raises her head, peering at Tom.
“Hello, speaker.” she hisses, and you turn to the snake, brows lifting in surprise. You had been warned that Hogwarts had no speakers.
“Hello, I am Tom Riddle, what is your name?” Tom speaks back, calm and collected.
“Nyx. You seem more intelligent than the buffoons around us.”
You laugh, fond amusement at your snake’s discontent with the lack of intellect surrounding you.
“Sorry about her, she’s crabby about the move.” You hiss, speaking to Tom as you pet Nyx’s smooth scales.
“I was told there were no speakers at Hogwarts. That it was considered... Dark arts.” you speak, tone questioning as you raise a brow at Tom, your eyes appraising.
He just smirks, his eyes equally calculating. “It is considered Dark, yes. And no-one but my closest friends and trusted know of me. You are quite bold to have revealed your... talents, so readily to the whole school, Y/l/n.”
Tom was intrigued, fascinated, curious even. (obsessed~ sings a voice in the back of Tom’s head that sound suspiciously like Mattheo)
“They can’t do anything about me, and I refused to leave Nyx lonely and unattended.” you shrug, smiling at Tom.
“You’re a stubborn one, aren’t you?” Tom raises his brow, smirking at you.
You smirk at him as you pick up your book, standing and walking past him to your dorm room.
“I’ll see you around, Riddle.” You call out over your shoulder.
Tom chuckles to himself as you walk away (and salazar, that ass-), before turning away to return to his dorm for the night.
The minute he walked into the dorm, he was greeted by jeering and snickering from all fronts, Mattheo, Lorenzo, Theodore, the assholes three.
He ignored the hollering of the three idiots, and strode into the en suite bathroom, showering and getting ready for bed.
When he stepped out of the bathroom, it was to be met with Mattheo and Theo looping arms around his shoulders and walking him over to their bed, one either side, and Lorenzo sprawled on his bed, laughing his head off as the Theo-duo menaces traded matching smirks and launched into a merciless interrogation and endless teasing.
****
After substantial ribbing and general bullying from all three fronts, and Mattheo being dramatic and snuggling with Theo and Lorenzo cooing over him in a bed together after Tom hexed him, Tom settled into his own bed, his eyes slipping shut as he systematically went through the memories of his day, filing them away as was demanded.
Eventually, he fell into his memories of you.
Y/n Y/l/n.
Parseltongue, exchange student, smart, snarky, confident. (hot, gorgeous, delicious-)
Curiouser and curiouser.
Tom smirked to himself as he crafted a new room in his mind, one just for you.
He fell asleep with one thought in his mind.
This was going to be interesting.
****
Word Count: 1564
I might do a continuation of this eventually, it's a great idea! thank you so much for the request @prettorett I hope you enjoy this!
🥰🥰
tag: @helendeath this is the fic haha
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alexa-fika · 6 months ago
Note
If your requests are open, how would you feel about child reader being found by Garp, Helmeppo, and Koby?
(Maybe their crew thought they were on the ship and accidentally forgot them on an island or something idk, I just want grandpa Garp with his new grandbaby)
New Apprentice (Koby, Helmeppo x gn!Child!reader x Garp)
A/N YA’LL I COOKED HERE, highkey worried that they are ooc here but other than that I LIKE, proud of how this one turn out, let me know what you think of it. Big brother Koby and Helmeppo 🥹, guys am I the only one picturing that being one of the most wholesome things?
Reader here is replaced by Dokucha which stands for reader in japanese
Dividers by @/saradika
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“Koby, are you even listening?!”
“Haha, I am Helmeppo”
“Seriously, you have got to start….
Koby let out a nervous laugh as Helmeppo began going on a tangent, scolding him as he focused on the path ahead of him, paying little attention to his partner’s rambles, only giving out the occasional quip here and there to keep him appeased, which did, until he spotted something in the path that got his attention.
He frowned, kneeling down to look at the object, catching the attention of Helmeppo, who watched over his shoulder.
“Huh, is that a stuffed toy?” He asked, looking at the dirt-covered wolf as Koby picked it up, wincing at the red splashes matting its fur
“Yeah…has blood on it.”
“Maybe it’s from someone who left it long ago, maybe from a kid who tripped?” The blond suggested
“No, it’s way too much to be from a scrape, and look,” he said, pointing at the path.
Helmeppo frowned as he spotted the small tracks that cut through the path leading out into the small forest that surrounded it. 
“It rained earlier today, so these had to happen recently, and the blood is fresh, too,” he muttered.
“Let’s go,” The pinkenette announced, following the direction of the tracts, letting himself be guided by the disturbed soil, broken branches, and the occasional drops of red that colored the ground.
“Hey do you thi- Hey! What the hell, Koby?”
“Wha-? What’s wrong Helmeppo-san?”
“Don’t give me that you just chucked a stone at me!”
“What are you talking about Helmeppo-san?” Koby asked, confused as he stood up from his kneeling position as he looked at the tracks
“If it wasn’t you, then wh-OW.”
“I -I will hurt you, s-so go away!” A small voice cried, chucking a rock at the marine
Koby let out a hiss, rubbing his head and turning to the voice, easily finding the culprit standing in one of the tree’s lower branches, a small child holding a handful of stones in their hands.
“Hey, how about we put those down?”
“No!” They cried, throwing yet more rocks at both of them
They squeaked as Helmeppo pulled out his swords and easily cut through the stones set his way. What most caught them off guard, however, was Koby’s sudden disappearance. They stared at the spot he had stood at confused, looking around to see where the man had went with no success.
The child released a surprised gasp as they soon found out the man had appeared beside them on the branch.
Koby enveloped the child in a tight but gentle embrace and jumped off the tree; before he had a chance to address the kid, he found himself stepping back, a shocked look on his face as the child pulled a small knife, trying to stab him.
He frowned, watching as the kid took the opportunity to run behind the tree.
“Koby, wait,” Helmeppo called, putting his arm on his partner’s shoulder to prevent him from pursuing the child.
“Helmeppo-san? We should get the knife from them; they could hurt themselves or hurt someone.”
“I think we should try a different way, look,” he said, gesturing to the crying child peeking out of the tree.
“They aren’t trying to hurt someone; I think they are just scared.”
“Ah, I’m sorry! I don’t want to hurt you; I just wanted to make sure you were alright,” Koby cried, taking in the child’s state, letting another cry as the kid ducked behind the tree when he reached out to them.
“Ah, I must have scared you, right? I didn’t mean it; I really am sorry for that,” he apologized, a nervous smile on his face as he sat down. Helmeppo followed suit and sat next to him.
Dokucha popped their head out again, watching as the men sat cross-legged, ways away from the tree.
“Umm, we found this earlier,” Koby tried, showing them the wolf plush.
“Ah! Mr.Okami!” they exclaimed, stepping away from the tree and trying to reach for the stuffed toy, only to realize their actions and quickly step back.
“It’s okay; you can have it back if you’d like; how about we trade?” Helmeppo suggested, pointing to the knife
They seemed to think about it, glancing at the knife in their arms and Helmeppo’s awaiting hand to the stuffed toy Koby was offering to them. Finally, as they slowly made their way to them, they placed the knife on Helmeppo’s hand. The former gave them a small smile as they then walked in front of Koby and grabbed the stuffed toy, hugging the toy tightly as they sat in front of them.
“H-hey, you’re bleeding!” Koby exclaimed, apologizing when they flinched at his tone
Koby glanced at Helmeppo, wondering how they should approach the situation.
“Hey, how about another trade? Your wolf looks like he needs a wash, right?” Helmeppo asks, glancing at their plush
Koby catches on quickly and looks at them with a smile.
“How about we wash him for you, and you let us look at your wound?”
“Y-you’ll keep him safe?”
“The safest,” Koby reassures with a smile.
“Okay”
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“Hey, Mister Koby?”
“Yeah?”
“How..umm…how did you disappear before?” They question, looking away as he glanced up at them from his bandaging work
“Disappear?”
“Yeah, when I umm, when I threw a stone at you, you disappeared.”
“Oh, that? It’s a fighting technique; I didn’t disappear; I just moved really fast. It’s called Soru,” he explained with a grin, his attention back on the bandages being applied.
“I uh- I think it was really awesome.”
“Haha, It was nothing; many marines can do it; Helmeppo can do It too,” he brushed off.
“You’re being too modest, Koby,” Helmeppo sighed from his place at the sink, trying to wash the grime and blood off the stuffed toy.
“It’s going to have to soak for a while to make him all clean,” he called, drying his hands off and walking closer to the pair. Seeing the look on the child’s face, he pulled something from his pocket and handed it to them.
“Here, you can take care of our Den-den Mushi for now.”
“It looks different,” they muttered.
“What do you mean?” Koby asked as he clipped the bandage and stepped back
“It looked different in the ship; it was black and white.”
Koby and Helmeppo pause, glancing at each other at the kid’s comment
“Ship?” questioned Helmeppo
“Y-Yeah”
“What did you do at the ship?”
“T-they made me clean the ship, but sometimes they would make me fight o-others or test things for them.”
Those words were all the pair needed to grasp where the child might have come from and what their job at the ship could have been.
“Is that how you got that?” Helmeppo said, pointing to their now bandaged wound
They shook their head at that but made no move to explain themselves.
��Could you tell us about it?” Koby prompted
Once again, they received all but a shake of their head.
“Why?” questioned the blond marine, a frown on his face
“I don’t w-want them to hurt me.”
“They won’t,” Koby answered with a grin.
“We’ll protect you,” Helmeppo confirmed with a slight smile.
“Pinky promise?” they asked, holding out their pinkies.
The two let out a small laugh but nodded and interlocked their fingers with theirs, their pinkies enveloping the child’s much smaller ones.
After sealing the promise, Dokucha proceeded to tell them what had occurred. It seemed like the man who they worked under was dark and twisted, enjoying the creation of painful and deadly viruses and, even more, testing it on the child, letting them reach the verge of death before finally giving them the antidote.
Despite this treatment, it was this same man’s love for pitting his subordinates against each other in a deathmatch that caused them their current wound. As they had refused to hurt the other subordinates, they had found themselves being punished for insubordination by the man.
Koby and Helmeppo listened intently to the child’s story, horrified at the treatment they had endured, and drove the two to tears and sniffles as they embraced them and repeated their promise.
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Dokucha’s lip trembled as they sat on Koby’s lap, Helmeppo sitting next to them, an older man sitting in front of them listening as his subordinates filled him on what had happened and why they had returned with a child.
“Wahahaha! Another one?!” he laughed, his booming laugh echoing around the small office
“What about you, you little brat? Do you want to be a marine? Or do you want to be a pirate and have me beat that out of you?”
“Uh, Vice-Admiral Garp, I don’t thin-
“Eek! I- umm- ah-
“Spit it out!”
“Umm, I- I’m not very good at fighting, and I don’t like it either, but I want to be with Koby and Helmeppo!” They exclaimed, apologizing and returning to their timid state once they had realized their outburst
“Wahahaha! That’s a good answer, you squirt. I think I’m going to like you! In that case, you will train under them.”
“T-Train?! Vice-Admiral Garp, I don’t think we are ready to train someone.”
“Don’t worry, Koby! You and Helmeppo will turn them into a fine marine!” He exclaimed with a booming laugh
"How about it, kid?!”
“…” They stayed quiet, unaware of the sudden shift of attention, quiet with a strained smile on their trembling face, eyes blown wide at the interaction
“Uh, Dokucha?” Helmeppo asked, leaning closer to the kid, trying to get their attention
“He was asking you,” he explained
“Yes!”
Koby let out a laugh at their rushed answer as he, too, leaned toward them
“He asked if you would like to train with us, to be a marine.”
“I can be with Koby and Helmeppo?”
“Yes, you would stay with us.”
“I - I really would like that,” they answered bashfully
“Good, I‘ll come by from time to time to check on you and give you some private lessons,” he grinned, smashing his fist against his open palm
“No!!” They screamed as they hightailed it out of the office
“Ah, wait, Dokucha, come back!”
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okay I really struggled with the Garp part and the timeskip leading up to him, so do let me know if you liked it. I really struggled him adding him so hopefully it checked the box of Garp and Grandbaby interaction 😂
Taglist:
@imaginarydreams
@amethystviolin
@h0n3y-l3m0n05
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bisexualiteaa · 9 months ago
Text
Mornings Like These
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Cooper Howard x Fem Reader
CW: slightly NSFW, established relationship, mentions of sex, sexual daydream, OOC Cooper, Cooper in a frilly apron cooking, cursing, slight deviance from the canon, more domestic Cooper because 🥹❤️
AN: Had the most wonderful request to do something a little different than what I’m used to! I know it’s out of character for our cowboy ghoul but I just loved the concept. This is a continuation of my last work, so it is set in the same Fallout TV series and Fallout 4 tense. Breakfast is served my lovely Cooper simps, hope I did your ask justice @morrrrow !! Hope y’all enjoy!
“God damn this fuckin’ thing” spoke the ever recognizable southern twang of Cooper from the kitchen. You woke up to hearing a few pots and pans clank together as he removed them from the cabinet, and his not so quiet curses in frustration that he was a man who failed at being quiet. Outside of bounty hunting of course. You were still in bed, having just barely woken up as the sun poured in through the windows, making you rub the sleep from your eyes. You padded into the kitchen to see what all the noise was about, seeing him trying to work the stove that you both bought off of someone that was supposed to be repaired and in working order. “What a fuckin’ rip off” he said angrily as he threw the towel down on the floor that was resting on his shoulder, then leaned over the sink to breathe, doing his best to try to control his anger before he started breaking things. “Stove givin’ ya trouble, hun?” You asked, your voice carrying a sleepy rasp to it as a small playful smile stretched to your lips, making him look over at you. In that moment, it was as if all the anger inside of him had just melted away upon seeing you, clad in just a tank top and underwear, hair slightly messy from sleep. You were truly a sight to behold at all hours of the day in his eyes. “Shit, I’m sorry darlin’. I wanted t’ surprise you with breakfast but this damn thing won’t work. Shoulda known it was a fat load a shit when he said it was workin’” he replied, defeat and agitation still evident in his tone, making you walk closer to him and grab his hand. “Hey, it’s okay, Coop. I think it’s mighty sweet you wanted t’ do that. Can I take a look? Maybe a fresh set’a eyes can help?” You asked, watching as his shoulders dropped a little bit as the tension left him at your touch, a small smile reaching his thin, marred lips as he looked down at his girl. “Go ‘head” he replied, starting to follow you and what you were trying to do but you stopped him before he could do anything. “*You* have a seat and relax, I’ll take a look, ‘kay?” you said, your hands resting on his shoulders to make sure he listened to you, knowing well and good his stubbornness was his biggest attribute. He gave a grunt before giving in, recognizing that you just wanted him to relax after being all worked up. “I’ll take care of it, promise. I’m a big girl, but if I need anythin’ I’ll holler for ya” you said, smiling up at him sweetly once more as you rubbed his shoulders a little before kissing him softly. His hands rested on your hips for a moment as you kissed, and in that moment, everything felt at peace in the world. As you parted from the kiss, you turned and moved out of his way before coming to take a look at the new appliance. Well, maybe not *new* but new for post war standards. You took a look at the wiring, noticing that it looked pretty good for a shit box that survived a nuclear bomb or two. No rust, no corrosion, hell even the paint didn’t look half bad. Cooper knew he had to get it for you the moment your pretty eyes lit up with excitement upon seeing it, going on about how much you missed making homemade pies, casseroles, and bread. He knew you were one hell of a cook with the passion you put into making some iguana, or even your famous stew he’d grown to love that was made from just about anything you could get your hands on. He swore you put some kind of drugs in your food with the way he craved it all the time, he’d joke that you could put cyanide in it and still manage to make it taste delicious. And that was just over a fire, he could only imagine the creations you’d put out if given the right materials. Seeing you working a stove, in a house that was starting to get pretty settled into, would be one step closer to the dream of having a domestic life with you when the rest of the world had gone to shit. He wanted to see you happy, because when you were happy, everything was alright in the world in his book.
You opened the door to the stove, bent over and examining the inside for any reason as to why it wasn’t working. The broiler seemed good, all the coils were there, nothing was rusted or corroded so you weren’t quite sure what the issue was. Cooper however, was in a whole other world looking at you. Had he been the man he was before meeting you, he’d have had half the mind to fuck you right then and there while your body was half way in the oven. He gave a groan at his own daydream, watching you with your ass in the air, clad in just the panties you were wearing, making him shift in the small, dining room chair he was sitting on as his pants began to grown uncomfortably tight. You always had a way of getting to him, whether you meant to or not, that man stayed feral for you all hours of the day. He wondered if your moans would be muffled or amplified with your head stuck in the oven, how you’d squeeze him tight with the slight sensory depravation. What he really wanted was the memory to play in your mind each time you’d use it, for you to bend down and remember the way he used you in that same position as you’d slide a casserole in the oven. He was broken from his daydream when you called his name, finding that you were no longer in the kitchen but outside checking the power source. He stood up and walked towards the front door, leaning in the open doorway as you stood outside, looking to him with a relieved smile as you found the solution. “Was wonderin’ why it was so hot in there” you thought out loud, explaining that it was a problem with the power source, not the stove itself before flipping a few switches and connecting a few wires then hearing your electricity hum back to life. “‘s ‘cause you’re here” he joked flirtatiously, sending a wink and a smirk your way, making you giggle. “Wasn’t the stove, was the power. Radstorm must’ve knocked it out last night” you said as you both came back inside, plugging the stove back in and sure as shit, it turned on. You dusted your hands off, standing there proudly in front of your new, working oven. He was thoroughly impressed. “Well I’ll be damned, when’d you get so handy?” Cooper asked with a teasing grin, making you smile as he looped an arm around your waist proud that his little lady was able to fix the problem. “Since I had to start fixin’ things ‘fore you break ‘em” you teased, coming up to kiss his cheek as he swatted your ass affectionately in retaliation.
“Ya know, before you start cookin’ I have the perfect thing for you to wear” you said, slipping from his grasp for only a moment, making him raise a brow at you as you giggled and treaded into the closet of what you called your bedroom. You opened it, finding a frilly white apron you used to own back in the day when you would bake and cook everything by hand at home. You smiled as you grabbed it, knowing full and well you’d have hell to pay for this little stunt, but when has that ever stopped you before? So you snatched it up, leaving it folded before coming back into the kitchen and handing it to him. “A good cook needs a good apron, and I just know this one would look damn good on you” you said, handing it to him with the most mischievous glint in your eyes and grin stretched to your lips, leaving him to unfold it and look it over. Now this was where you were expecting to get in some serious shit. To hear a chide comment or a “never in a million years, sugar” but no, this man looked at you like you’d handed him a challenge, and he was going to take it in stride. So with a smirk, he set it aside and started to shake his duster off from his frame. “I’ll do ya one better there, little lady” he said, that look in his eyes told you he was up to no good and it had you curious. He started working his shirt off and you’d be damned if you weren’t enjoying the sight of him shirtless and just in his pants, the decorative buckle on his belt helping him maintain that rugged cowboy look. He noticed your stares, giving a dry chuckle. “Like whatchya see, sweetheart?” He asked, his voice dipping a little lower but he didn’t need you to say anything, he already knew the answer. “Always” you replied, a half lidded expression on your face as your tone dripped with something a little less pure. What you really hadn’t been expecting was when you saw him take his pants and briefs off before you, a slack jawed grin coming to your mouth as he tied the apron around his frame. Completely naked underneath. You gave a laugh as you watched him wear it with pride. “You sir, never fail to surprise me” you said, making him chuckle but you spotted the tent that started to poke at the apron where he was getting hard underneath. “Think you’re right, it’s a pretty good look” he said, turning to face away from you and you gave that same crude whistle he’d always give you when he liked something you wore or did, because you had an eye full of ass standing right in front of you. You walked up and stood behind him, wrapping your arms around his torso and laying kisses to his shoulder and back. “On second thought, who needs breakfast when you look this good? Hell, I think you pull it off better than I ever did” you said through a giggle, feeling him swat at your grabby hands the way you do when he gets handsy with you. “Can’t disturb a chef when he’s cookin’, sugar” he said coyly, making you chuckle as he started frying a few slices of Cram in the skillet. “Oh but you can disturb me when I’m doin’ laundry? I see how it is” You said playfully as you took a seat down at the dinner table you two found, it wasn’t much, but it was nice all things considered. Gave that homey touch that was missing from the house when you two first put together the settlement. You watched as he romped around the kitchen, going out of his way to put on a show for you and get you as worked up as you make him. “You are such a tease” you said, making him grin as he had his back turned to you, fully focused on making a good breakfast for the two of you to enjoy. “Welcome to my world, sweetheart” he said, making you laugh. You could certainly get used to this.
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ctrlsatoru · 7 months ago
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DIABLO CH2 - TOJI FUSHIGURO
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content: techbro billionare!toji, reader is gojo's little sister, age gap (toji's in his mid 30s, reader in mid 20s) kind of ooc toji, suggestive themes, no smut yet. protective!toji and also asshole!toji. warnings: 18+ only. suggestive themes. explicit language, references to being roofied. toji being toji. minors do not interact. pairing: toji fushiguro x afab gojo!reader word count: 8k tags: @liitlesushi a/n: ok so this might be longer than I anticipated and also semi slow burn. it'll be worth it, trust. summary: It's Gojo's anniversary party, you're doomed by your Satoru's whims, haunted by your father's scheming, and now a devilish third player appears: Toji Fushiguro. And he's here to collect.
Toji opens his eyes, manually focusing on the ceiling above him. The strange pattern spun in slow circles, and then it settled.
This bed is not his own. The pillow feels too flat under his head, which is throbbing painfully. He feels like a dozen horses ran over him. A voice, distinctly female, unnecessarily loud, makes him wince and curse under his breath.
“... If I agree, and I haven’t, you’re not picking my outfit. Know that .”
This is unlike him. He can’t remember a thing. The one good thing about not recognizing the bed is that he’s not gonna have to deal with a strange woman in his place–
“Because your conception of what’s socially acceptable to wear to a formal function is not tethered to earthly reality, Satoru.”
Oh.
It’s you .
You’re on the phone, standing by floor-to-ceiling windows. The sunlight casts off your ring like white laser when you turn, blinding him.
“Mornin’” he croaks, pushing himself to sit against rough the rattan bed frame. The room moves from side to side, like you’re both stuck in a boat, and not in one of Haibara's many guest rooms. It’s all coming back to him, the party, watching you and your boyfriend’s fight, the deck–
“Oh. Hey, buddy.” you say idly, looking over your shoulder as you sit on the other side of the bed, your ring-covered finger tying some slutty sandals around your ankles like some kind of shibari countess. The strap of your top falls as you lean over. Toji’s buffering.
His ears must be fucking deceiving him. 
Buddy?
The fuck?
He can’t for the life of him remember anything after the deck. You’re zooming through the room, texting furiously. On top of that, you look fresh and plump like lettuce out of the fridge, don’t you? But he had to blink several times to break through the layer of crust around his eyelashes, and his body is telling him you two fucked like animals for the past 12 hours.
Or he spent the weekend in the trenches. 
He feels wildly unprepared for this morning after, and it’s a just fucking relief that you’re keeping your distance until you start tap tap taping your little heels to the door.
“The hell do you think you’re goin’?”
You stop, surveying him over your shoulder like he’s coming close to being some sort of inconvenience. 
And then the corner of your lips lifts, the mole on your cheek jumping with the motion.
“It was fun.” Your phone starts ringing again. The sound drills a hole into Toji’s temples. “Too bad that it never happened.”
With that, you’re gone. 
You abandon Toji with a bunch of unconscious people scattered around the house and Haibara, who’s still young enough to not know what a real hangover is. The kid will just not shut up about some hardcore surveillance system he had installed around the house recently after he noticed someone was stealing from his Kaws collection.
Toji listens to the whole story, sipping on the cold pressed green juice Haibara made himself, simply refusing to use the crystal straw, and makes a promise to himself. You’ll pay for whatever it is you did to him.
Even if he doesn’t remember what that was. Yet. It doesn’t matter. You’ll pay anyway. Nicely. 
“Say, kid.” he asks Haibara, licking the green foam off his lips and putting down the empty glass on the counter. The juice tasted just like it looks, which is cow puke, but his mind is somewhere else. Machinating. Scheming. 
“This system of yours, does it cover the whole house?”
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Here’s the thing.
There are many things Toji isn’t. 
For starters, he’s not easily bothered by most things, a trait that people usually mistake for a personal attack, like it has anything to do with them and isn’t just the hand that he was dealt. People assume others, in this case him, think about them more than he can be bothered to. 
He’s not a control junkie either, not anymore. He left those days behind.
Control isn’t something he needs to worry about anymore. He has plenty of it. If something gets out of line, it gets back on it automatically. That’s just the way life is. Sure, he had his vices back then; lactose, gambling, adrenaline, women. 
But the thing is, you learn a few things with age, right? Shiny things lose their sparkle. The excitement wears off. Nothing is safe from becoming predictable, not even the rush of hearing bone crack under his fists or the juiciest, tightest pussy presented to him on a tray.
And this sheds a light on the fact that he’s way past the age of being pussy whipped.
“You cannot be serious.”
So why the fuck is Shiu Kong looking at him like that? 
And who does he think he is standing next to him, all up on his screen, and mind you, only alive thanks to the fact that Toji has lost some edge from his gory days?
He shuts down the tab like a kid who got caught watching porn on the family PC.
“You listen to me. Don’t you ever fucking do that–”
“The Gojo kid?” 
Toji’s eyebrows dig into his face because you’re certainly not a kid. No. Kids don’t look like that. Kids most certainly don't go around passing people horse tranquilizer or whatever the fuck it is you fed him with that glossy mouth of yours.
And that’s what you did. That’s as far as he can remember. 
“Is that what’s been–”
“I’m gonna stop you before you say some dumb shit and piss me off any further.”
Shiu’s been pestering him for days now about the upcoming iteration and the threat of several deadlines. Toji has been brushing it off. No nagging back or shutting down his complaints. 
Somehow, his silence only pushes the stick further up Shiu’s ass. Like he’s his sexually neglected wife of 40 years.
Truth is, he hasn’t given the dynamic with his CFO/best friend much thought lately. Why would he when there’s an infuriating, mouthy woman with siren eyes that somehow look down at him even when he’s about two heads taller than– 
You.
“–stalking the poor girl on the desktop version of Instagram.”
Toji returns to the conversation. “I don’t stalk people. I’m a grown-ass man.”
And you’re not a girl either. You’re something else. He hasn’t figured what yet.
“Mm. So am I.” Shiu says, still standing there with his hands in his pockets, head tilting down at some forgotten paperwork on his desk. “And even I know looking at someone’s profile on a desktop computer is a concerning level of unemployment, which you’re not at. Yet.” 
Toji’s not that thick-headed. He knows he’s been distracted, but he can’t just brush that night at Haibara's away.
You pop up in his head unannounced and make yourself comfortable, rent fucking free. Like a little squatter. In the middle of meetings, when he's driving back home, at the gym, when he’s at the club with a gorgeous woman on his lap. 
It’s becoming so frustrating that he’s started to despise you for real, and not just the made-up version of yourself he created when he met you and decided you were an ill-mannered bunny that he wanted to toy with for a bit.
In this scenario, of course, he was a wolf.
No one ever talks about how sometimes the bunny knocks the wolf out and bolts the morning after.
Days pass and his mind is blank of memories, no glimpses, no time-stopping sex flashbacks, just a bunch of strange vivid dreams about you that would make any mid-century french cult film director weep and the Soviet Union recoil. They distract him to the point of him nearly knocking the front teeth off his trainer’s face, or spilling orange juice all over his clothes this morning.
Toji’s positive you didn’t fuck. Sure, you had a bit of bed hair, but your face lacked the I-was-fucked-by-the-Toji-Fushiguro glaze he's used to seeing in women and takes pride in. You looked perfectly fine, collected enough to be giving your dimwit brother hell on the phone and fuck with him before disappearing.
It was fun.
He was also wearing underwear, and you walked just fine. No wobbly legs or tilted hips. No bruises on your neck or scratches on his back– 
Too bad that it never happened.
You had shared a bed, that much he knew. He caught a whiff of your perfume after you left. He had cursed you then, feeling like a pathetic fucking dog sniffing up some pillows, but now the confusion and annoyance faded to a curiosity that extends past the time in his head he gives to the best lays he’s had. 
So today he put up an incognito tab and looked you up hoping to find something annoying, corny or pathetic about you to make you unappealing, and somehow he landed on your personal IG profile. 
You posted a set of pictures three days ago of meaningless corners at some random location. The fourth picture is a snap of what looks like your desk. There’s a polaroid of you and your fiancé next to a stack of notebooks.
You’re standing in front of him, leaning your head to the side with his chin resting nice and cozy on your shoulder, his nose pressed against your neck. Toji's lip curled in distaste.
He found your twitter account as well, because why not? And found nothing of particular interest. You stick to promoting your work and that's the end of it. Other people in your circle, on the other hand…
Toji went through a twitter phase not too long ago. He found endless amusement in pissing people off with less than 140 characters and replying to those who enjoyed his work. He uninstalled the app the second he found people selling mugs with screencaps of his tweets. 
Safe to say the decision made Shiu’s and the PR team quite happy. 
He’s out of the loop with the overall discourse, but it’s clear that you have farmed your own dedicated micro following online and your boyfriend is some kind of A24 flowerboy on the rise. 
Toji heard of him before meeting you. His newfound success is the byproduct of his dreamy looks, a melancholic breakout role and the occasional activism, something that's been often questioned due to his relationship with you, and the consequential ties to your family.
Both of you, as a couple, act like viagra for a very specific, insufferable and presumptuous crowd. They’re hyper-focused on the fact that you haven’t posted him on your stories for weeks, that Hiroki allegedly deleted some posts with you on Instagram, and that he's been caught dreamily staring at his female co-star during press conferences.
Why people choose to waste their time with their noses up stranger's ass is something Toji does not understand, life being as short as it is.
“Please tell me that’s not her twitter account,” Shiu says. Toji inhales sharply. “This is more pathetic than I thought. No wonder you haven’t gotten anything done in days.”
He kills the rest of the tabs, spitting over his shoulder “I can’t very well do my fucking job if you’re breathing over my fucking shoulder, can I? You know how I fucking feel about people standing behind me when I’m trying to get shit done.”
“Twitchy .” Shiu notes and takes his sweet time walking around his desk, plopping down on the chair.
“Yep, take a seat, why don’t you.” Toji grumbles.
Shiu drums his fingers against his knee, a sign that he’s craving a cigarette, surveying him.
“So I’m gonna take a leap of faith here and assume this is some kind of executive-level scheming, and you’re just exploiting a vulnerability.”
Toji’s face twists like he sucked on a lemon at the mere thought of it. 
“You know damn well the day I do business with that old cunt will be the day your ex-wife comes clean about what she did at that yoga retreat in Bali and asks for forgiveness.”
“Figures. So?”
“You’d probably take her back. Fucking cuck.”
“She really got under your skin, didn’t she?” Shiu notes, unbothered by the unprovoked attack. 
Toji sniffs, comes down from the spike of anger, and finds a more comfortable position on his chair.
“She owes me.”
Shiu leans his head back, mildly amused. 
“You adding usury to your ledger now?”
“Not money.”
“Alright then, I don’t want to know.”
Lies. But Shiu knows better than to push too much. Toji’s the type to hoard details not because he’s afraid of compromise, just to be an asshole. 
It’s refreshing to see him almost… desperate. If you were anything like your brother, Shiu thought, you might be just the perfect little karma agent for his best friend.
“Fine. You get that business sorted. You’re no use to me if you’re distracted.”
“You worry about sorting your own business and I’ll worry about mine, Kong.”
Shiu stands up, fighting back a smile until he opens the door, stopping at the sight of Toji’s assistant about to knock.
“What is it?” Toji asks, scratching his eyebrow, already exhausted.
Keiko looks down at the tablet in her hands, hesitant.
“The team at Gojo Corp has reached out, sir. It seems Gojo Shinobu would like to invite you to dinner next week.”
The look on Shiu’s face as he slowly turns to face him is priceless. Toji rests his elbows on his desk, a sinister smile pulling at his scar.
“Well, isn’t that interesting?”
“Interesting indeed.” Shiu agrees. Keiko eyes them skeptically, because her boss smiling like that cannot mean anything good for society, or her sleep schedule.
“I better get to work then, eh?”
“Anytime would be nice, yes.” Shiu says, turning to Keiko. “I guess I’ll finally find out about Bali, then.”
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So you might be thinking, look at him backtracking like that. 
Don’t get him wrong, it’s nothing like that.
Toji’s sitting across from Gojo Shinobu, the man, the myth, the bigot himself, with absolutely no intention of making business with him.
He’s just sniffing the territory.
In person and up close, Shinobu's a disturbing aged mix of you and your brother: the hair and the uncanny valley eyes went to him, but the eyebrows, the slope of his nose, it’s you. Even the handshake, firm and tight like a war general, reminds Toji of you.
Gojo Shinobu’s old as the fucking bible. His eyes are graying, eyelids sagging but it's clear that grandpa's still sharp.
For the record, Toji doesn’t like the old fart. He represents many things that he despises about older generations, and his business model is one of the many reasons for the country living in the past, but he’s not about to get political. 
Not liking Gojo Shinobu doesn't mean he has no respect for him, so he’s honest and immediately shuts down the proposal of Gojo Corp. being involved in future Diablo releases.
Dignified, not happy, but never one to accept a no, Shinobu just smiles, brushes his beard like a Ghibli villain, and switches the subject.
Alcohol involved and pretending to put business talk aside, the conversation flows easily. Your father has a surprisingly entertaining dry sense of humor. Toji supposes you stop giving a shit when you have one foot in the grave, he also imagines the borderline cruel wit had something to do with your mother getting knocked up with you at the peak of her career as an actress and sex symbol.
“I hear you have a kid.”
“Two.” Toji corrects, remembering that he’s supposed to pick up Tsumiki in an hour. Ballet class. She’s getting rather serious about it. “A girl and a boy.”
“Ah, good balance.” Shinobu nods with a knowing smile. “They listen to you? How old are they?”
“15 and 16. And they do.”
They don’t, because they’re teenagers, not soldiers. Megumi and Tsumiki are good kids, certainly better than he was at their ages, they don’t need him ordering them around, watching their every step.
“Dangerous, dangerous age.” your father hums. “You make sure they do that, save yourself the bitterness in the future.”
Damn. Alright. Toji lifts his eyebrows and leans back, listening. That’s all it takes.
“You’d be surprised. You get a little too light handed, and a perfect sapling can get ruined just like that.” he snaps his fingers. “It’s harder to straighten them up as they grow up.”
Toji takes a long, good sip, fighting back a chuckle. He has no concerns when it comes to who or how people choose to fuck, but the blatant homophobia is always amusing.
“And then they gang up on you.” Shinobu scoffs. Toji can imagine you and your brother scheduling a year worth of publicly terrorizing Shinobu. “No wife? You raising them on your own?”
“I am.”
“Good man. It’s hard, honest work. Make sure you look for a good one to settle with, not all of them are in touch with their motherly instinct.”
His assistant comes in, tells him someone has arrived, and Shinobu makes a noise with his nose or mouth that reminds Toji of an exasperated horse.
“Take the advice from me. You see–”
He leans over the table, brushes his beard. 
“If, and I am not wishing this upon you, your daughter comes of age and– after years of picking up and dropping all sorts of interests with no interest in commitment,"
He pauses, chuckling humorlessly.
"–comes to the conclusion that she wants to waste her life playing with cameras and hanging out with gender-bending creatives,”
The word is said with so much despise Toji feels like there should be a new phobia for it.
“You have to sit down and choose what’s more important; letting her waste her potential away, or being in her good graces. More often than not it can’t be both, that’s just how it is.”
Perhaps Toji hasn’t given you enough credit. You could’ve ended up a lot worse than you are. Knocking him out was nothing. You could’ve chopped him up, kept his dismembered body in your fridge, and he’d see where you're coming from.
“But when she tells you she wants to let some vulture into your family and make him blood, you take matters into your own hands.” he nods firmly, like it’s Toji he’s mad at, and finally looks over his shoulder, nostrils flared.
Asaya Hiroki approaches the table. Jetlagged eyes, tail between his legs.
“Fushiguro, this is Asaya Hiroji, my daughter’s boyfriend.”
Hiroki looks like he has half a mind to correct him on either the name or relationship status but he’s too fond of keeping his head attached to his body.
Hiroki’s pretty. Toji can’t compete in that department. He looks like he puts sugar and milk on his tea and smashes the china on the floor when he’s told he can’t have more, like a psychotic puppy. 
In other words, you make sense together. 
You like to look at pretty things so your boyfriend’s cute. No harm in acknowledging that, though he remembers Tsumiki mentioning that when noses dip down like that it means there’s some kind of prosthetic. 
And if you pay attention, really read between the lines of his 90’s film heartthrob face, something’s off with him, isn’t it?
But what does he care? A nose job is no crime. Hiroki has other flaws to offer. For example, he has a rather shitty way of hiding the fact that he’s doing something he’s not supposed to. 
Perhaps, even, going behind someone’s back.
And the guy calls himself an actor.
Satisfied with the results of what he thought would be a waste of an afternoon, he excuses himself. He’ll be just in time to get to Tsumiki’s class before it’s done and have the other kids’ moms and nannies ogle at him. Tsumiki hates it when he does that.
“Don’t be a stranger, Fushiguro. I’d like to keep this channel between us open. I hope to see you at the anniversary party.”
“Pardon?” Toji stops, surprised.
“The company’s anniversary party this Friday,” Shinobu says, like it’s obvious. “I’d like you to meet my son, and well, you’re already acquainted with my daughter.”
Hiroki’s round bobba eyes follow him all the way to the grand crystal doors. Toji has the distinct feeling that he was just part of Shinobu taking matters into his own hands. 
He’s both disturbed and impressed. He never mentioned meeting you, and he’s pretty damn sure that this detail didn’t slip from your lips either.
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Every year the company throws an anniversary party, and you and your brother and every high-level employee have to attend and listen to your father’s rendition of why diesel was better and how you’re all wimps for being born after the extinction of smallpox. 
The one year that you didn’t attend, because you were stuck in Norway with a canceled flight, your father spent exactly 11 months reminding you of it like you had any say in the weather conditions of the North Sea.
Tonight might be his last speech as chairman, since he’s about to step down from his position after growing health concerns. The company has gone all out; live music, huge venue, ice sculptures, people are dancing. They've put so much effort your father's probably more annoyed than anything.
Suguru approaches you at the empty family table and sits down next to you with a knowing smile, like he's thinking the same thing as you while you're watching people waltz. He’s looking as handsome as ever, you just miss the bangs framing his face.
“So, when do you think he’s going to publicly execute the medical staff that diagnosed him with Alzheimer’s?”
“Probably after he declares war on Gretha Thunberg.”
You’re wary. He might have everyone convinced, but it’s not like him to step down quietly. Your instincts are telling you to expect shenanigans tonight, and they’ve never once failed you.
“Seems too good to be true, don’t you think?” you say, eyeing the crowd. “I don’t know how Satoru’s so cool about it.”
Suguru sighs, craning his neck. “I wouldn’t say he is.”
And that’s when your brother slams his palm on the table, making you jump in your seat. He leans over the two of you, eyeing the room like it’s the school cafeteria and he’s the king of prom.
And he kind of is. Today your father will officially name him his successor, so the sour look in his face makes you and Suguru share a look.
“Do you see Hideo Kojima on steroids hanging out with Nanamin? I guess next year we’ll have the Yakuza on the jazz band.”
You laugh, only half weirded out. Suguru looks up at your brother, confused.
“Who? ”
“Toji Fushiguro. ” Satoru drawls, icily amused, and your neck turns so fast Suguru worries it’ll break. “And his underling.”
Remember your intuition? Red sirens start ringing in your head, and the edges of your vision start staining in with a deep burgundy color.
What on earth is he–
“Dad invited him.” Satoru says, still not sitting down, still scanning the room with deadly eyes. You feel the urge to look around and pinpoint his exact location, but you wait for him to point with his chin. “They’ve been seeing each other. Mimosas and manicures, I heard.”
You find him across the room, several tables between you, just over the elevated candles in the middle of your table, talking with Nanami and some man you don’t recognize. 
You fight the weak but sensible urge to look away when he suddenly turns to your table and lifts his glass in your direction, like he felt the shit talking from a distance.
The room is vast, but you recognize the feeling of his eyes looking straight at you. Your brother is too occupied cursing under his breath while he mockingly lifts his glass to notice you gulping.
“You think dad’s hitting that?”
You try not to gag. “You’re sick.”
“Cause someone will owe me a loooot of money if that’s the case.” he taunts. You both placed a bet on whether your father is bisexual or not years ago. “Look at him, standing there like he’s threatening to swipe all the fertile wives in the room. Freak.”
You snort. A bit of your goes down the wrong pipe, Suguru helpfully pats your back.
“You better hold on to yours then.”
“Nah, he’s locked in. Ain’t cha , babes?”
You roll your eyes, feeling Suguru shake his head with a lovesick smirk. Your brother replies with a wink, lazily dropping his weight on the chair next to you, like you need to be in the middle of all that.
You lean back, stretching your neck and stranding up. “Ok, you can back up a little. It’s embarrassing enough to be matching with you.”
Satoru stretches his arm over your now empty seat. They’ve been purposefully keeping a distance, him and Suguru, people assume it’s for appearances' sake, but you know them better than that. They’re playing some game tonight, and you’d rather pluck out your lashes one by one than learn the details.
“And I distinctly remember asking you to stop feeding into those fucked up theories online about me terrorizing you as a child, but you had to take those creepy family portraits with the heads cut off. We don’t always get what we want, sis.”
And don’t you know that. Tonight was stressing enough without 6’ something with a lip scar, ever so subtly following with his eyes as you make your way around the party. Not too obvious for an outsider to notice, but just enough to make the exposed hairs at the back of your neck stand up.
You’re a little too energized. Like too many shots of espresso and Ritalin after an allnighter.
It makes no sense to start feeling threatened by Toji Fushiguro tonight, when he’s in your territory, but you do. 
But you weren’t raised under the same roof as Gojo Shinobu and Gojo Satoru to be so easily intimidated, so you mingle, let people stop you for quick, boring catch ups and questions about being excited about your brother and what-have-you-been-up -tos, even those whose faces or names you can’t recall.
You smile, entertain and even ask people about their whereabouts, until you’re out of social battery for the rest of the season.
“Took you long enough.” you say, making a point of not looking at him.
His voice comes closer than you expected or feel sane about. Smooth and dark, in through your left ear.
“Patience is a virtue, haven’t you heard?”
His presence is more unnerving than you geared up for, and just like the first time, a shiver cuts through you. Something urges you to move and take a step sideways, out of the magnetic pull around him. 
You finally take him in. Tailored tuxedo, slightly tousled black hair that you know for a fact is unfairly soft, exuding confidence. Never in your life had you encountered someone as infuriating and intoxicating as him.
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“So, are you my new stepdaddy?”
A slap to his face would’ve stunned him less. Hell, he might’ve enjoyed it. You don’t give him a chance. His pants have no business getting tighter from that fucking question. Toji buffers again.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
He hums, hands in his pockets.
“Depends.”
You tilt your head.
“You into that kind of thing?”
You scoff, dismissive as always, but suspiciously purse your lips to one side before taking a sip of your drink. Perhaps gatekeeping a chuckle.
Head held high, nose up in the air. Toji takes your profile in. The light bouncing off the high points of your face, the deliberate, doll-like curl of your lashes, the soft slope of your neck and the dips and curves of your shoulders. Your dress painted a nice image in his head of your body from afar, so he refrains from going past your collarbones like the honorable man that he is.
“What? No backtalk? I’m disappointed.”
“I didn’t expect to see you any time soon.”
“Like I said, patience is a virtue.”
You roll your eyes and laugh dismissively. “You don’t believe that.”
“Bold assumption.” he counters. “I wanted to see how long you’d last entertaining guests, but then your right eye started twitching and I suppose took some pity on you.”
“Aren’t you an empath.”
“Even to those who don’t deserve it.”
Your chin quivers, but you keep the smile to yourself with a quick sigh. Toji could look down at the way your chest rises and drops, but he’s not in a rush here. 
“Why are you here?”
“Is that any way to speak to a guest? I’m sure Shinobu raised you better than that.”
Name dropping your father gets the exact reaction he was hoping for.
“Why are you here?” you repeat, enunciating slowly, but the words you want to say are don't fuck with me right now.
But you’re too precious for him to deny himself the pleasure. Not when your eyebrows tremble like that. 
“Your father was kind enough to invite me. It would’ve been rude to turn him down.”
“You’re not here to entertain him. He’s stepping down soon and you can’t stand him.”
“Doesn’t mean that I don’t respect him. Why else would I waste a perfectly nice friday night surrounded by a bunch of suck ups? Are you suggesting I have some ulterior motive?”
Your squint at him, like you don’t believe he has the guts to say it.
“Did you perhaps assume I’m here for… you?”
Toji wonders if your silence has anything to do with the white haired manchild looking your way for the second time.
“We do have something to settle. You owe me something, if I remember correctly.” 
“I think you’re mistaking me for someone else.”
“Nice try. An explanation, does that ring any bells?” 
Your head snaps up to him, the wisps of hair hanging from the sides of your face flow with the movement. The tip of your nose and your cupid’s bow catch the light, if he couldn’t see your face this close he’d mistake that for sweat. 
He’s reminded of how you looked at the deck in contrast to the sight of you right now. A sheer layer of sweat was covering your skin, your plump thighs spilling on the wood surface, he'd kept his hands in his phone and held on to his own sanity.
“What is there to explain? Nothing happened.”
Toji tilts his head. “Lying is a bad, bad thing,” 
“We didn’t do anything, Fushiguro.” you insist, lowering your voice. Toji looks over your head, bored with your attempts at gaslighting. “If you–”
“You wanna dance?” 
The nonchalant act drops, you unconsciously lean back and open your mouth like there’s not enough air in the room. Toji smiles at your hesitation, cold and challenging.
“It’s in your best interest.”
“How?”
“Because the old cunt that kept kissing your hand earlier is coming our way and I’m about to leave you alone with him” he lies and you don’t dare look over your shoulder to check, not wanting to risk making eye contact with the slimmy fucker.
It’s a bad idea. Being near Toji is a bad idea, dancing with him is the equivalent of putting on a vest bomb. Your father is somewhere in the room and your brother might act aloof but not a single interaction of his interest is going unnoticed. 
Putting your hand in his is a bad, bad idea. The worst. But you suspect figuring out Toji Fushiguro’s intentions will take some compromise on your part, so you don’t hesitate when you grab his hand.
With his arm around you, he's reminded of a particularly striking dream he had about you days ago. The first thing he did when he woke up from it was open his app notes and write two words, perverse angel.
Now he knows it was actually deja vu; you close your eyes for a bit, the breathing image of reminiscing. This isn’t your first time in his arms.
The melody gets rather slow. You hold yourself with all the poise of a reluctant little heiress, defiant but serene as you look at him, arm resting over his.
While he’s growing quite fond of the sight of your neck exposed, he’d rather find the main pin and let your hair down. Let you get comfortable, not taut like you are in his hold.
“You look like a tall pint of guinness.”
Toji could do this all night. Just watch your expression drop, annoyance pinch at your temples.
One ankle betrays you, but he’s not about to let that happen. The arm around your waist keeps you steady, moving along with him. His grip is firm, but not overpowering.
“You’re an asshole.” You say like you just discovered it tonight.
He’s right. You know it and you hate that he described it so right. You’re dressed in a black, sleek and form fitting dress that goes down to your ankles and the top is made of an off-shoulder white band that wraps around your shoulders.
Toji laughs with that shark grin of his, his scar stretching. 
“There’s nothing wrong with it.” He adds helpfully, hand coming up to straighten the white fabric around your left shoulder. The air turns colder with the absence of his arm, but it returns to the spot in no time. “Wouldn’t have been my first choice, granted, but it’s a lovely dress. Perfect for a night at the pub, watching the game with the boys.”
“I think I’ll pass on the unsolicited fashion advice, thanks.”
“Come on. You can never go wrong with a red dress.” he counters, eyes dropping briefly. You wrinkle your nose, he takes offense. “What?”
“Not my style” you shrug.
“Now that’s just tragic.”
“If it makes you feel better, I’ll make sure to wear one to your funeral.”
The couples closest to you turn with different looks of controlled distaste. Toji laughs heartily, head thrown back and everything. 
“I’ll hold you to that. I might just return just to see it with my own eyes.”
“Not sure doors open both ways in hell, but hey, more power to you.” 
“So you wanna hear my theory?”
You sigh. “Nothing happened, Toji. I mean it.”
What a terrible liar you are.
“I think you had a little alcohol in you, were fresh off a fight with your boyfriend, and just couldn’t help yourself because you have a thing for problems.”
You nod sarcastically. “And of course, you’re the problem in question.”
“Well, yes.” he blinks. “And also, you don’t have half the self control you believe you have. So you freaked out and put me to sleep to stop yourself from doing something you thought you might regret.”
This is how it was. You had forgotten the rush, despite replaying time and time again your past conversations. Interacting with Toji Fushiguro is like playing five finger fillet, thrilling and grueling and high risk, but it’s a whole other thing with people around you. You can’t let up, all your senses need to be on guard.
“Aren’t you too old to be throwing a fit because I gave you more than you could handle?”
Toji’s eyes dig into yours, a hint of amusement and something else.
“Here’s a piece of advice: choose your words very, very carefully. They might come back to haunt you. ”
“It never happened. And it won’t.” You repeat with a cool tone. The pulse on your wrist drums against his own. 
“I have to say, you’re a better actress than he is.” he mentions. “But denial does not suit you. We’re gonna have to do something about that or things will get very awkward real soon.”
“Actually I think we should focus on your rejection issues first.”
“I’m not a problem for you to solve, sweetheart.” he chuckles darkly, eyes knowing, never leaving yours.
Years of practicing the art of bullshitting in your household could not help you deny the fact that you're maddeningly, disturbingly attracted to him.
“What you see is what you get. And you could, if you stopped being a little coward.”
He makes you turn effortlessly, that’s when you see him. Hiroki. The words die on your lips, your stomach drops, all resolve wavers. He releases you and your arms hang limp on your sides.
He licks his scar and smirks sideways at you, eyes twinkling. You could push him off the roof of the building.
“You should fix your face, angel, ‘cause I won’t behave if he wants to pick a fight.” 
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You’ve always liked Nanami Kento. He’s one of your father’s closest, youngest and less... spineless advisors, the pathological victim of your brother's pestering, and always impeccably polite to you, sweet even.
But right now, when he’s introducing Toji Fushiguro and his friend whose name you didn't catch to Suguru and Hiroki, you’d love to hit him in the head with a hammer.
At least your brother is nowhere to be seen.
"Pleasure to meet you." Suguru says.
Hiroki has his arm around your waist. He's not looking at you. You know what the dimpling of his cheeks mean. 
“We’ve met before actually, haven’t we?” Toji turns to him, brow burying into his face like he’s not too sure, shaking his finger in the air. “Correct me if I’m wrong. I don’t remember too well.”
Your heart is stuck in your neck, threatening to crawl out of your mouth. Suguru gives you an odd look.
“We have.” You don’t see the look on Hiroki’s face when he replies, but his tone is controlled.
“Yeah, I thought so.” 
Shiu Kong says something, and Suguru responds another thing. It's all noise to you. 
You grab a drink from a passing tray and the corner of Toji’s mouth tilts, his attention on Suguru’s conversation. You feel irrationally mad, like slapping him, but then he’d probably fix his jaw and look at you like you should've gone rougher and–
There’s something seriously wrong with you. Officially.
You grab Hiroki’s hand and pull him with you.
He’s confused, but follows you nonetheless. “Can you just wait for a–”
“We should ditch the party.” You tell him, but he doesn’t agree like he usually would and grabs your arm, stopping you at once, brown eyes searching yours.
“You’re not even gonna ask why I’m here?”
“My dad invited you?” you reply, confused by the offended look on his face.
“No. Why would he? You know how I feel about this kind of thing.”
Now you’re confused. You smell his breath and notice his flushed cheeks. “But you’re here.”
“Wow. Try to contain the excitement, why don’t you.” he scoffs. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to fly across continents and interrupt whatever the hell that wa–”
He’s starting to raise his voice, drawing attention, usually composed demeanor nowhere to be seen. You catch a whiff of alcohol on his breath.
“You’ve been drinking.”
His face drops. The volatile look in his eyes is not something you can deal with tonight.
You’re forever grateful for the woman announcing your father’s speech. Hiroki’s expression clears up, but he gives you a look that says you’ll resume the conversation later, soon, tonight. 
Then he pulls you to his side and leads you closer to the podium.
Your father looks into the crowd with piercing blue eyes. You, like you have for the past few months, have a bad feeling. Like if you were to take a picture right now, it would later be displayed as the moment before hell broke loose.
“... And as many of you know, the time has come for me to step back and allow a new generation to lead us forward."
The crowd hangs on his every word. You scan the room for the 10th time, looking for a head full of white hair.
Hiroki notices your unease and looks down at you, rubbing your arm. “Hey, what is it?”
“I don’t see Satoru.”
Your father continues, voice unwavering. 
"It is with great confidence and optimism that I announce my successor, a person who embodies the values and vision of our company." 
You finally find Satoru at the back, he’s with Suguru and Nanami. Waving his arms around him, hair a mess, pissed.
"Please join me in welcoming our future CEO, Noritoshi Kamo."
The room bursts into applause, but before his words can fully register in your mind, a sudden, sharp crack echoes through. For a split second collective confusion takes over, and then it turns to full blown panic.
You watch your father duck under the podium. Your legs move on their own.
Gunshots.
People are running, crawling and diving for cover all around. Tables are overturned, glass shatters. It's all white noise.
"Get down!" someone shouts. 
Something slams into you.
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Toji picks you up from the ground. Exit located, going for it.
“My dad," you protest with wide eyes, hastily trying to look over your shoulder. Toji has half a mind to throw you over his shoulder.
“He’s fine.” he assures, hand covering your head, pushing it down.
Security sprung into action in no time at the first gunshot, formed a barrier around your father and hurried him down the stage. Toji saw it with his own eyes right before he caught you running like a tweaking baby reindeer, right before some piece of shit shoved you to the ground.
You keep protesting, resisting, trying to go in the opposite direction, so Toji has no choice but to lift you up and thrown you over his shoulder.
A colorful string of panicked and enraged expletives follow. You’re livid, fists slamming into his back without mercy. Toji pays no mind, pushing through the crowd, making his way to the emergency exit.
He doesn't put you down until you're both alone in the emptiness of some sterile corridor. And you're still rambling.
“Shut up for a second, will you?"
That does it. You're flabbergasted, opening your mouth again in full Karen fashion.
Toji doesn’t care for it. “Are you hurt?”
“No.” you reply furiously, fist tight on your sides. You catch your breath, step down from your heels and start to speed walk down the corridor. “I have to find my father– I need to– Satoru–”
“They’re safe.” Toji catches up to you in two or three long steps. “Gojo’s security doesn’t fuck around. I mean– yeah, they did fuck up letting a guy bring a gun inside the premises, but they were quick with it.”
Your nostrils flare. Toji hears voices at the corner and pushes you behind him. He sees a couple of guys in black in the reflection of a fire extinguisher cabinet. Dressed in black, wired ears, walking like they know they might lose their jobs tonight.
“Hey, I got the heiress here. She’s looking for her old man.”
They escort you both, eyes hopeful, looking at you like you're their ticket out of unemployment. Your father and his people are gathered in some conference room one floor above. The altercation can be heard from outside. 
“It’s for the best. You're too out of it to see it now, but you will.”
The room is packed. Your father, his disciples, your brother and his boyfriend, a very uncomfortable looking couple of cops. A woman approaches you, asking you if you're ok, but your eyes and attention at stuck on your father and your brother dueling for the whole room to see.
Your brother stops his pacing and turns to face Shinobu. 
“No, that's not it. I see it, I see you. You’re too prideful to let me clean up after you.”
Getting caught in a family brawl was not in Toji’s plans tonight, but he stays put, watching you approach them with confusion all over your face. They don’t seem to notice you. 
Gojo Shinobu levels his son with warning eyes, finger pointed at him. “Watch your words, Satoru. You don’t know what you’re talking about. My decision is final.”
He turns around, beckons the woman who approached you to him, but your brother is not done.
“You know I can do it." he says, your father stops and turns to him with death in his eyes and his lips pressed into a thin line. "You know I can. You just can’t stand the thought of me succeeding where you fucking failed.” 
The look on your face says it all, you don’t know what your brother is talking about, and that you’re in no headspace to ask either. Satoru's not just pushing the limits, he just sped past them.
The words hit your father square in the chest. 
Things are about to get bloody.
“You’re nothing but a spoiled, entitled brat who thinks he deserves everything handed to him on a silver platter. Look at what you’ve made of your life, acting like everything is a fucking game. You think I’ll let someone like you lead what I spent my life building?”
You turn to him, mouth falling open. “Jesus christ, dad.”
“Over my dead fucking body.”
Your brother’s face contorts in rage. He -predictably and unpredictably at the same time- lunges forward, fist aimed at your father’s face.
The room springs into action. Your father's guard dogs, the cops, Nanami Kento, you beat them all to it, but it’s ultimately Toji who gets to him.
In another situation, Toji would've found a comfortable seat for himself, perhaps a drink, and watch the havoc unfold. Let the son champion the decade long cause of union workers, environmental hippies, human rights, consumer advocacy activists alike, and punch the lights out of his father's smug face.
Then he'd spare no details for Shiu over a nice dinner.
But he grabs Gojo Satoru's arm instead, stopping him mid swing.
Blue, crazy and uncanny eyes land on him.
As a general rule, he avoids getting involved in other people's affairs, especially when it comes to love spats or family drama. However, when he says, 
“Trust me, you’ll thank me later.” 
He means it.
Your father chuckles dismissively.
Your brother watches as he walks away, chest heaving up and down. 
“Toru?”
Surely those two syllables did not come from you. If denial did not suit you, this uncertainty is just disturbing. It’s not right.
“What was that?” The question comes from the depths of your throat, voice nothing like Toji has heard before. 
“Not now.” your brother snaps, turning around and walking out. Geto Suguru on his side.
Toji’s phone starts ringing, he tries to shake off the unsettling image of you before walking out of the room to answer.
It's Shiu. He's waiting outside, watching the police drag the gunman into a car, and wondering where he is. Toji sighs, comes to terms with the fact that he's on a streak of sorts tonight, because once again, against his own code, he tells him Shiu to leave without him, not answering any questions about his whereabouts. 
People have dispersed with your father gone from the scene. Toji walks back inside, pocketing his phone, and finds you by a corner of the room. Your boyfriend has found you again, fuck knows where the came from.
He's pulling his phone out, ready to call Shiu and tell him he's on his way down, but you're shaking your head, running your hand through your hair like you forgot it's pulled back.
Hiroki gets in front of you when you try to walk away. You put your hands between you, like the last thing you need is someone coming close. You must've just said something nasty, hit a tender spot, because he freezes where he stands.
Toji drops his arm.
Once again you try to walk around him, but this time Hiroki gets a hold of your arms.
“Why?” he asks. You’re looking at him like he grew a second head. “We talked about it all the time, we always said–”
Toji's wandered close enough to catch your reply.
“What do you mean why? Have you lost your mind? I can’t leave Satoru alone right now, Hiroki.”
“In case you didn’t notice he just fucking left you here.” he snaps at you. 
You flinch. Recoil. Push against his hold.
“Let go. I’m sorry but I can’t deal with you tonight.”
“You can’t? Right. You can’t. Tell me something, do you have any idea what kind of shit I’ve had to put up with–”
You snarl at him, baring your teeth, bare feet stomping on the carpeted floor. Hiroki doesn’t even sway with your attempts, or flinch at the near animalistic way you look at him. 
“I fucking don’t. And I don’t want to know. I didn’t ask you to be here tonight.”  you reply, tone vicious, jaw locked. “You don’t get to hold it against me.”
The next thing Hiroki says pours out of his mouth like it’s a known fact, or an acceptable thing to say to the woman you’re going to marry. 
“They don’t give a shit about you. You know that.”
By now, you two have caught Kento Nanami's attention. He wraps up whatever he's discussing with a couple of men and approaches the scene.
Hiroki does not let up, it's easy to see that he will not. He fixes his grip like you'll turn to liquid and spill between his fingers if he gets distracted.
You wince.
Toji walks over with four or five committed strides until he's between you two. The abrupt interruption and breach of personal space startles Hiroki, gives you the chance to step back.
“I think that’s enough.”
“Well, this is just great.”
Hiroki chortles, looking away like he’s collecting his thoughts. Biting his lips in contemplation. Nodding to himself once or twice. Toji regards him coldly, lets him gather his thoughts, or the guts to attempt something idiotic like, who knows, get himself pummeled to the ground.
“You know, I keep seeing you everywhere lately, why is that?”
Toji shrugs, uninterested and unintimidated. Hiroki won't get his face cut even if he deserves it, and it's not that Toji's against the idea of being a vessel for some sort of long time coming retribution. In fact, he'd be doing it just for his own satisfaction.
But the night should end now. He’s gonna have a hard time forgetting how you looked earlier when your moron of a brother stormed past you and left you standing there, in the middle of a room full of people that did not care about you, heels hanging from your hand, shoulders sagging.
Doesn’t mean he’s not gonna give the boy something to pop a vein about.
“Why don’t you take a guess, hm?”
Something snaps behind Hiroki's eyes. Toji's front row this time, and he confirms everything he suspected about him. 
And he makes his mind up.
Hiroki looks at you, lids heavy, ears red. “Are you fucking him?”
How predictable. Toji looks at you over his shoulder, and somehow, you understand. It's barely noticeable, but you shake your head.
“You have to leave.” you sound a lot more like yourself this time. Only tired. Really exhausted. Like your feet are about to give out under you. Toji's not blind to the way you’ve been putting all your weight on one foot.
Hiroki pauses, realization lands on him that you’re talking to him, and not Toji.
“Get on a plane, fly back to Spain, and stay there for as long as you have to.”
“This is fucking unbelievable.” 
“I disagree. Have a safe flight.”
Hiroki stomps out, shoulders past unfazed Nanami Kento, who looks at him like he’s a speck of dust. He approaches you, asks you if you're ok.
You ask about your dad, he tells you he’s currently talking to the police and insists on getting you a car and someone to accompany you. Says you should rest.
“I can take her home.” Toji says. You peer at him like that's the last thing you were expecting to hear, and then you nod.
Nanami watches Toji carefully, studying him intently. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. Keep me posted?”
His features soften just a bit, he touches your shoulder, promises he will.
He doesn’t keep his eyes off Toji until you two make it to the door. Toji might find the guy agreeable, stick up his ass and all.
120 notes · View notes
radioisntdead · 6 months ago
Note
You know that trope of “I know a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy-” so on and so forth? Well, that, but it’s actually true because reader wants to help his best and closest friends at the hotel. It can be a bit of found family fluff, and include whoever you want, you got free reign here toots.
Some examples are Angel getting more time off work because reader ‘knows a guy’, Husk getting more premium alcohol because reader ‘knows a another guy’, Nifty getting better and higher grade cleaning equipment, Charlie and Vaggie getting better advertisements, Alastor getting fresh boars and Pentious getting new parts.
When directly confronted about it, reader just gets all coy and says, “I know a guy, who knows a guy, who knows another guy, who knows a guys cousin, who knows a girls aunt, who knows-”
Good evening my dear! I had so much fun writing this! Lowkey based the reader off of Todd from Bojack horseman also my apologies for this being a little short.
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Oh, I know a guy!
Hazbin hotel x reader,
Warnings: shenanigans! Mild ooc Also the ending is a little muddled because my brain stopped working because it's 3 am and I'm hungry.
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In hell, pure unbridled and unchained loyalty was hard to gain, and genuine friendship was harder to find.
And someone like you, someone filled with simple kindness, someone who just did things for others expecting nothing in return was nearly impossible to find.
You accidentally befriended Sinners and hellborn alike, and that granted you with connections a ordinary sinner wouldn't have!
You found the Hazbin hotel after an incident where you were shot out of a circus canon and crashed through one of the walls, and you decided to stick around!
You get a free hotel room and there's a chance of redemption and to seeing the pearly gates of heaven? That's a pretty good deal in your book!
You gave no warning for when you'd use for connections to improve the hotel or to just make things better for your fellow hotel residents!
Husk complained about the horrible quality of alcohol?
The next day a shipment of high quality luxury alcohol came in, at first they thought it was a mistake but were assured that it wasn't, The imp who delivered it greeted you with joy as you addressed him by name and began to ask how he was, how his wife and kids were, etc etc.
You accidentally ran into Charlie and Vaggie during date night? You call up a guy and get them VIP seats for a sold out show they wanted to see.
One of Alastor's old radios break? And he's about to murder someone? You know a guy who can fix it right up, make it good as new!
Niffty's cleaning supplies are beginning to break? you make a phone call and suddenly industrial grade cleaning supplies are delivered to the hotel, She's filled with pure unbridled glee!
Angel dust is complaining about Valentino overworking him? No worries you know a guy! Valentino is shot dead the next day.
Sir Pentious needs a very specific, very outdated and extremely hard to find part for something? You know a guy who can get you one for dirt cheap!
Eventually after you had gotten the hotel a whole build board advertisment the residents came together to discuss what exactly you did to get them what you did, because as far as they knew you weren't an overlord or even threatening for that matter! Angel dust swears he saw you cry over accidentally killing a bug once!
Several theories were made, Niffty and some of the egg Bois stalked followed you for a time!
And you didn't even notice! Honestly they were concerned about that because the egg Bois weren't exactly... Discreet, several of them died.
Eventually they just decided to rip the bandaid off.
"Okay guys so, hear me out on clown dentists, I know some clowns that could be great dentists!" You said waltzing on into the hotel, to be greeted with the people you have begun to regard as your friends, and dare you say, family, circled around the lobby couch like they were preparing for an intervention.
You tilted your head confused and before you could open your mouth to say anything you were grabbed like you were being kidnapped by a slasher killer and thrown onto the couch.
"That's an idea but let's put a pin in that for now because we have a couple concerns about how exactly you get some stuff, like that build board for the hotel!" Charlie started up carefully before Vaggie continued,
"And the time you got us free tickets for that show, thanks again for that but those tickets are expensive."
You shrugged, "I know a guy who's sister's boyfriend's cousin's aunt's poodle is in the build board business, and it's no problem, if you wanna see another show just let me know and I can get you two more tickets! It's no biggie! I know a guy!"
An eyebrow was raised "For completely free? No tricks?"
"Or at a huge discount! And no tricks!" You innocently grinned,
"What about the luxury alcohol you got the bar?" A glance was given to the cat that ran said bar, who was drinking a bottle of said luxury alcohol,
"I know a guy who's married to a Alcohol maker's daughter's daughter in wrath! They have loads of extra alcohol just laying around!"
"What about the parts you got for Pentious?"
"I know a guy who's married to his brother's girlfriend's twice removed cousin's poodle's dog Walker's mother's-" "This is getting ridiculous," "gREAT GREAT GRAND MOTHER'S Chewbacca's queer icon nephew's unicorn who owns a shop."
Were you joking? Or were you complete serious? They genuinely couldn't tell.
"Ya' got the purple pimp killed, I owe ya' one and I don't care whatcha' do in your free time but it is a concerning because ya' know the other two Vees?'' Angel popped in.
"I know a guy who knows a girl who knows a Chicago deep dish pizza who knows a new York style pizza guy who knows a cannibal in cannibal town who knows Rosie's hat gremlin who knows another hat gremlin who knows about hat creature that had a vendetta against pimp grimace!"
"What the fuck."
"Don't question it! I don't mind using my connections for you guys! Your practically my family anywho!" You get up from the couch, "I'm gonna go put together a sinterest board for my dentist clown idea, bye!" You said before booking it up the stairs and into your room, leaving confusion, a very touched Charlie from being called family, questions technically answered and concern for what the fuck clown dentists were.
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Good evening folks! I hope you enjoyed this! It became a little funky with the dialogue but that's alright, Either Mob Alastor headcanons or an angst fic is coming up next so tune on in for that! As always thank you for tuning in and goodnight!
Pssssst, you should totally join our discord server
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iiotic · 7 months ago
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Pointless; Husk x Gn! Reader
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ask: Can I request Husk x reader Angst that turns into fluff? It'd be husk and y/n got into a fight a y/n leaves for a bit. Husk gets upset and goes back to his drinking habits before y/n gets there and comforts him while he's drunk out of his mind. - @jx3-xd
tags: use of alcochol, drinking habits, swearing, angst w comfort, pointless arguments, no use of y/n, gn reader, ooc husker??
word count: 0.5k
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The sound of yelling, stomping could be heard all across the hall, the strong smell of alcochol would be easily absorbed by someone who'd enter the hotel. The whole team left to do some bonding exercises, while you, who's suppose to be sick, were arguing with your boyfriend.
Originally you were suppose to spend some time together, however both of you knew that you wouldn't be able to get any privacy. You, a mastermind, thought of a plan; if you'd be sick then Charlie would pity you and let you stay, making someone take care of you. Of course you choose your darling boyfriend, Husk.
You weren't expecting things going that bad, hell, you weren't expecting it to go bad at all, it was suppose to be a cozy afternoon for you both. A date.
White noise ringing in your ears, while you were trying to hold back your tears, Husker unintentionally made a horrible joke about your appearance. You knew that he didn't mean it, but it doesn't change the fact that it hurt. You knew that both of you had drank a little however it wasn't helping when he said that you were being "overdramatic".
"Well i-i do not know what you want me to say. You know how I was feeling lately, did you expect me to laugh it off?" You'd say to his face, your own arms hugging your stomach. That disgusting feeling..
Before he could respond you stormed out of the hotel, you didn't want to be disrespected by your boyfriend like that nor did you want to look at his face at the moment. You needed a break, some minutes of fresh air.
You decided to stop at a local bakery, buy something to eat and go to the local park to clear your thought. Little did you know that when you were eating the food of your choice, your boyfriend was drowning in his troubles.
You certainly weren't expecting the stronger smell of alcochol when you opened the door to the hotel. There you spotted husk, head laying on the bar with a bootle of booze in his hand.
"Husker?" He jumped by the sudden noise, not hearing the door open. His eyes staring intently at your figure, head slowly going up.
"Darlinh?" he stuttered, slowly making his way to you. "where the fuck have you been for so long?" Before you could answer he interrupted once again your shocked figure.
"I'm so sorry.. " he slowly muttered your name. You hushed him comfortably, you weren't going to argue about his drunk state, at least not now..
You leaded him to your shared bedroom, while he muttered something about "his fault" and "alcohol". Making him lay down you sat next to him, pulling his larger figure into a hug.
"shh.. I know, I know.."
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(a/n) - I know it's short, but I had a break from writing for a while and need a little warm up so I apologize!!
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notpixl · 6 months ago
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How the FUCK do I do layouts- fuck it.
You and Acheron go buy Peaches.
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Um, GN!Reader, maybe a forking ton of ooc? And a bit of filler before we actually go outside. Also bad words :(
Wahoo (I need help with this layout thing every other person has-
"Text" is you.
"Text" is Acheron.
I'm hoping this helps :')
--- ---- ---
You open the fridge, eager to make that infamous Peach Pie both you and Acheron loved.
Maybe with a scoop of Ice Cream placed at the top as well? You're sure her eyelids widened a bit when the flavors intertwined with each other...
However, before you could begin on making dessert...
"Oh you've got to be kidding me..."
There were no peaches.
You let out a sigh, you were sure you bought some the last time you went to the store!
"What's wrong, dear?"
You turn around to see Acheron, who's looking back at you with those beautiful, gorgeous, hypnotic eyes that leaves you stumbling with your words.
"We're uh... we're out of Peaches-
In an instant, Acheron lays in a fetal position, her eyes devoid of any color.
"This world shall know pain..."
You roll your eyes before closing the fridge, already used to this type of behavior coming from Acheron.
Who wouldn't bawl their eyes out when their favorite food is nowhere to be found?
"Supermarket's closed for the day..."
You can imagine an invisible sword plunging into Acheron's chest when she heard that.
"But I know Nanny probably has some fresh ones..."
"Where is Nanny?"
Acheron stands up, eyes filled with Determination.
"...you know what happened last time when we went out, right?"
She slowly looks away, acting oblivious.
--- ---- ---
"Where in the bloody hell did she run off to now?"
You swore she was beside you when you took a glance at the soup aisle!
"I swear, this lady is gonna give me a headache-
"M(x) [Name], please head to the Lost and Found Section."
A sigh escapes your lips.
At least she managed to make her way over there...
---
----
---
"I suggest we should hold hands."
"I look away for one second and you'll be at the exit."
"...a leash?"
"Absolutely not!"
"Handcuffs?"
"I... n-no!"
"Then what do you have for an idea?"
She crosses her arms, tilting her head.
"...balloons?"
--
-
--
*Whisper* "They're staring."
*Whisper* "Of course they would! You have a giant floating Peach Balloon for crying out loud!"
You could only hope for it to not fly away as it was held together with strings and duct tape around Acheron's Belt.
...maybe you were reconsidering your choices on making sure she didn't get lost.
But it does look cute seeing Acheron with a comically large Peach Balloon floating above her...
"[Name]? You're smiling again."
You shake your head in response.
"Was I now?"
"Let's just head to this Nanny."
She walks by your side, her hand intertwined with yours.
And then you guys got peaches and made peach pie and lived happily ever after yayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy-
Feel free to throw some words at me.
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lorebite · 2 years ago
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HERO OF THE DAY | L.K
↳ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: being an anti-B.O.W agent has never been easy; and you more than anyone else know how lonely it can get in this line of living. However, what you didn't expect was to have your heart stirred when you set eyes upon one Leon Kennedy - the newest recruit. ↳ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. fem reader. cursing. 2 part smut; voyeurism, implied masturbation, handjob, switchy vibes. some sweet gentle love making, Leon cumming too quickly bc he's too fucking sensitive (i swear, i couldn't resist it 😩), age gap relationship (younger man x older woman), reader is Leon's CO, pet names used for reader: Lieutenant, miss, sweetheart, honey. very subtly implied depression, PTSD and sducidal ideations, rookie!Leon. ANGST (beware. i mean it) but also some sweet, sweet fluff. reader is a smoker. mutual pining (kinda?). idiots in love (or lust?). reader shows questionable behaviors at times. title is taken from a Metallica song by the same name. this fic is a prequel to my return to ashes fic but it can totally be read as a standalone as well. in this universe, Sherry Birkin and Jack Krauser don't exist cos i think it makes better sense for this fic that way. very inaccurate depiction of military training and whatnot. also, terribly OOC.
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In the beginning, the whispers were overbearing. Nonsensical. Rare was a time a new recruit managed to cause such a stir at the base. And this was even long before those sweet eyes became a constant presence amongst the rest.
You were vexed. Much more you cared to admit even to yourself. Leon Kennedy – this fresh-faced ex cop who witnessed the hell that was unleashed upon Raccoon City. You were certainly empathetic; having the unfortunate title of a walking hoard of scarring memories yourself, you held significant regards for the young man. And besides that, most recruits hadn’t the first clue about the horrors of your shared reality. 
However, you found it very hard to close your eyes to his bold antics. The same way every other one of his superiors – your colleagues – seemed to do. 
A real troublemaker, this boy. Not that you have ever caught him in his roguery. But you knew. That face was telling enough on its own; the permanent look of mischief in his eyes and the faint quirk of his lips that made it seem as though he was always up to no good. And of course, word was always quick to spread around the base of all the shit he liked to do. 
This boy had been caught out after the curfew one too many times; and for what goddamn reason each time, you could only wonder. You have seen him, multiple times, being dragged by the ear to someone’s office many early mornings. And you had to admit, he still had quite the mouth on him despite the number of troubles he got himself into. You were only grateful to have never been the one to deal with his shit, your patience too little to put up with such behavior.  
But it didn’t help that he was one of your combat trainees. And those times offered a glimpse into the cracks of his well-behaved façade. He always made sure to stand ahead of everyone in the training field – just within your line of sight where he could have your undivided attention. And he knew he had it. Fully and completely. It was easily impossible for you to ignore the way his clear eyes glittered in the sunlight or how his hair glowed like molten gold. And he knew all of that.
Even during partnered practices – those times when you treaded between the rows of trainees – those were when he truly shined. He would deliver his blows a little bit harder, grunt a little bit louder, or boast more self-righteously to his opponent. Just to draw your eyes to him every time you walked past him. It was as if he’d made it his days’ mission to pester you until you snapped. Because, obviously, you couldn’t punish him for just being a cocky showoff, could you? 
Now, to you, this wasn’t some peculiar behavior. You were used to becoming the currency for the attention slot of the younger men at the base. You were a hardened, experienced agent after all. An exceptionally talented yet young lieutenant with enough wins to your name to make an average man quiver in his shell just from your mere presence. The bonus factor was your incredible physic and a pretty face to go with which never failed to make heads turn. Therefore, very few and far in between were the times you were openly disrespected and many were for the recruits to seek your praise. 
However, often times, you spared no more than a few curt words of affirmation to your trainees; which you were confident they lapped up like starved puppies. It was entirely out in the open and this was also why you weren’t a stranger to being at the receiving end of your coworkers’ relentless teasing. You only imagined this to become even worse if it ever got out that you were involved with one of the recruits.     
But with Leon, it was different. With him, everything was different. He forced you to notice him even when you deliberately intended otherwise. It was too easy for him to walk up to you and gather enough courage to touch your shoulder when he threw his head back and laughed at your dry humor or palm the small of your back to guide you through a door. Almost as if he was driven by this quenchless greed to have your eyes on him at all times and envy when you didn’t. 
You could only wonder where you went wrong with him.
Because it was sorely pathetic. Truly. The stupidly large smile that would part his face into two upon the simplest words of praise out of your mouth was comical. And perhaps, on your better days, you found it endearingly entertaining. 
That was until your suspicions were proven correct. You had believed for long enough now that Leon Kennedy was nothing but a troublemaker and soon, you came to see for yourself why.
It was just another restless night for you; a regular one that fell into the damning familiarity of blood curdling nightmares, riddled with a crippling fear that trapped you within your shell and gripped your throat until it decided to let you go. The cruel souvenir of your missions and endless reminder of all you left behind and not. 
You woke soaked to skin with cold sweat, heart pounding painfully fast against your ribcage. You were still at the base in that shoebox you called your room. You were safe. You tried to remind yourself as your thoughts shifted to overdrive. Fast and unyielding. 
Moonlight filtered through the small window overhead, shedding columns of dancing shadows across the floor. You couldn’t let yourself just sit there and wallow in the darkness. You needed a distraction. So, you grabbed your lighter and a packet of cigarette and wandered out into the halls of the base in hopes of tiring yourself out enough to go back to bed for another hour of sleep. 
But you had only made it to the mess hall when you heard it.
Moaning. Giggling. They were hushed and cautioned but they were definitely there. It made your pulse leap and your hand freeze on the double doors leading into the kitchen once you turned one last corner. Your cigarette sat loosely between your lips as a trail of potent smoke flitted out into the air. This was beyond your fucking pay grade.
Hell, you didn’t believe you could recognize it but you did – the piercing tone of Leon’s voice was unmistakable. He was the loudest of the two, his small hoarse whines hitching every time his body thudded gently against the wall. Holy shit, you nearly blurted out; your eyes finally finding him in the darkness. His arms were pinned by his head, a nameless face buried in the crook of his neck and fuck if he didn’t look gorgeous like that.
You should’ve just turned around and walked away. You knew you should’ve. You should’ve resisted. But your brain failed to make that very simple command to your body. It instead flooded you with vivid thoughts of all you couldn’t see when you ducked back behind the corner of the wall, igniting a rebellious flame that quickly engulfed you whole. You stood there rooted to your spot, obtusely searching in the darkness as your ears rang with the shameless cacophony of pleasure.  
What the fuck am I doing? That remaining sliver of rationale screamed in your head, the burning heat of your cigarette creeping dangerously close to your lips. You were trembling, breaths labored, your one hand against the double doors clenched into a fist. 
It had been too fucking long. You were smothered in work and work and more work. Taking something for yourself, just for your own plain indulgence was never an option. Or rather, you never left the room for that option to grow. Now you were loitering – cowering in the dark, listening to your bratty trainee get fucked into the wall while you ached and questioned everything you once stood for. Really. What were you doing? 
You bridled at your newfound vulnerability in such a darned situation. So, you turned on your heels and hurried back to your room. Insomnia be damned. You had a throbbing need to nurse now. 
“Son of a bitch,” you muttered begrudgingly to yourself as soon as your back turned to the closed door of your room, fingers pressing ardently over your exhausted eyes. “Fuck. That was—”
But you shook your head, not allowing yourself to give anymore voice to your racing thoughts as you slipped back in your cot, twisting yourself in the thin white bedsheet and scolding your own misbehaving mind. 
But too long. It had been just too long. You’d almost forgotten you harbored all these emotions deep inside that cavity which was meant to hold your heart. Years and years of working yourself like a machine finally collapsing to bits over your head. Why did it have to take him for you to realize? Why this?
And maybe one of these days, you’d curse yourself for it. But right now, you were brimmed full with want and it didn’t take long for your fingers to slide between your thighs and seek release to the filthy thoughts of that same recruit you’d sworn yourself off of. Oh, how shameful indeed. But this was your reality now.
Weeks after that night were hellish. Purely torturous. You could no longer be around Leon and not be reminded of that mouthwatering image of his fucked-out face burned in the back of your mind and the memory of what you did with it; as much as it made a gnawing guilt rise like a choking lump up your throat. 
Leon’s goal to claim your attention was ever set in stone. And now, he intended to plant the seed of desire in you as well. Or perhaps, this was probably just you. You were almost convinced you were deluding yourself. But ignoring your newly budded suspicions offered very little resolution. Because you couldn’t ignore him. Not once did he yield his ways.
His touches had become more constant and lingering. His eyes practically two devouring maws downing you in one gulp. He only needed to open his mouth and he would dig a hole for your resolve to lie in. Yes, Lieutenant. Right away, Lieutenant. The way his tongue rolled around your title, and the way his voice swooped into a low melodious hum whenever he spoke it made your pulse race every damn time. The obedience and politeness a stark contrast to the devilish look on his face. 
It was indeed infuriating the level of power he seemed to hold over you now. It was as though your places had been swapped. You were now at his mercy – of what he found frustratingly entertaining at your expense. 
And finally, one late afternoon, his advances became much more targeted.
Mere minutes. That was all it took after your training ended for him to come barging into the changing room. You were only dressing back into your uniform when the door creaked open. You looked over your shoulder long enough to see Leon stepping in before you turned back around.
“Trainees aren’t allowed in here.” You commented flippantly. Though you didn’t believe that was enough to convince him to leave. He hardly ever sought you out privately like this so it had to be important. “And you forget how to knock?”
“I need to talk to you, Lieutenant.”
You hummed, sliding your fingers beneath the straps of your leather harness as you turned around to finally face the young man, brushing off the warm jolt of your heart upon hearing your title from his mouth again.
His eyes trailed the movement of your fingers donning your gloves. Those strong, deadly hands who were the despair of many enemies. He wondered how gently you’d take to him if you had the chance, burying such care and tenderness into his skin that could make him melt in your arms. The mere thought of it was making his knees grow weak. 
It took him a moment before he offered a hurried salute, a furious blush fanning across his cheeks. You bit your lip as it forced to twist into a playful, knowing smile.
“I think I might need some help with my—with my form.”
You arched a brow. Leon didn’t need help. He was the golden boy. Any recruit would be damn lucky to possess a shred of his prowess. But you decided to humor him nevertheless.
“But you’re acing all your trials. What’s the problem?”
And there it was. That charmed grin that broke upon his face immediately at your remark. An amused smirk finally tugged at the corner of your mouth as you waited for whatever excuse he was going to come up with, his intention growing quickly evident to you. 
“More training never hurt—right?”
Your smirk widened. “You mean you’re not sick of it, yet?”
A small smile ghosted over his lips, his eyes growing soft with fondness as he cocked his head. It made the hair bristle on the back of your neck, taken off guard by the sheer delicateness of his behavior. 
“I could never get sick of you, Miss.”
“That’s the spirit, rookie.” You sat a gentle hand on his shoulder and his eyes flickered down to where it touched him. Your crooked smile returned to your lips. “But don’t worry. I’ll push you so much you’ll be begging for it to stop. There’re still months away from your first mission.”
“You really think I can make the cut?”
“Depends how bad you want to become throwaway meat.” You snarked, scoffing a laugh.
Leon frowned and the cold pinprick of realization of your own words swept over your face. Perhaps it was too soon to start talking to an overeager recruit about the indefinite lows of being an agent. You didn’t know anything about his motivations or what he really believed he was going to get out of this decision that begged a lifelong commitment. But then again, he, of all people, had to know what the future held for him… right?
“Listen—” You breathed out a sigh, squeezing his shoulder fondly before letting go. “Let’s focus on getting you through the rest of your trials first. One step at a time, hmm?”
He gave a slow nod, fingers clasping in front of him, wringing and fidgeting. The conversation seemed to be over now but he remained there, lips flickering wordlessly as if he wanted to speak yet again.
“What is it? You wanna say something?” You prompted.
Leon began chewing his lip, immediately drawing your gaze to his mouth. You swallowed dryly as you drank in the tempting pink of his plump skin turning white under the assault of his teeth. Your mind instinctively wandered to the sweetness of his mouth upon yours, the warmth, the delicious moans he would utter against your lips. Fuck, snap out of it, you chastised yourself.
“Well—you know how none of the other trainees can keep up with me.” He started, cheeks endearingly flushed red, breath stuttering when you stepped closer to him. “You’re the best around here and I know you can take very good care of me.”
Even though he was peering down at you, that mischievous look on your face didn’t fail to make his heart stagger. As if you could see right through him. And of course, why wouldn’t you be able to? A woman of your caliber had her fair share of admirers. He for one knew what the boys in the barracks whispered about you when the lights were off. Hell, he was sure even some of your colleagues had the eyes for you. And to say that made him jealous was laughably undeserving of its true nature.
“I know one on one training with you would do me good.” He smiled. “And maybe you, too. I’m sure you’re aching to get your fists on something.” He tilted his head to the side, gaze burning deep into yours. “I’d offer myself.” 
You tossed your head back and laughed. It wasn’t cruel but sure as hell, it carried a hint of condescendence. There was a reason you refused to get on the training field with the rest of the recruits. After sweeping the legs from under one of the boys when he pestered you about ‘not enough hands on experience with a pro’, none of them dared to challenge you again. The memory of it was still fresh and yet, here Leon was making the same request to you.
“I like your ambition, rookie.” Your voice tapered into a low giggle; so seductive in tone, it woke goosebumps on his skin. “It’s adorable.”
He bit the corner of his lip before quickly letting go. It made your eyes trace back to his mouth again and he suppressed a smile. Two can play at a game, Lieutenant, he thought. All the cards were on the table. Weakness after weakness. This was a fair but draining fight, an aggressive push and pull that could only end with one side going against the currents. And it seemed as though you were both playing to make the other lose first.
“Please, Lieutenant. I really need your help. I’d do anything.”
He pleaded so longingly; it made warmth flutter dangerously low in your belly. Those round eyes and wet plump lips were your forbidden fruit. His hair looked so silky and soft; it gripped you with temptation to grab a fistful of it and pull without mercy until he was reduced to nothing but a whining, pathetic mess.
You smirked. “Then meet me after dinner at the gym. I might take you up on that.”
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Leon was the first to make it later that evening. He had leapt from his seat as soon as he ate his last spoonful to head for the cramped indoor gym just across the mess hall. Adrenaline had already begun scorching under his skin and he hadn’t even seen you, yet. 
His mind roiled with the thoughts of being in your proximity; to have your fingers touch him and your warmth caress him. To have your pinpoint focus on him and only him. Those simple thoughts excited him more than it probably should’ve and he quickly found himself adjusting the front of his pants and palming himself with a vexed heave of a grunt, desperately trying to tame the hardness growing just under the fabric. He flinched when he heard the double doors flutter open.
“Miss.” He quickly turned in your direction, fingers touching his temple in salute. “You’re early.”
Your hands were stuffed inside your pockets and a small smile adorned your face. The bitter tang of tobacco burned his nose as soon as you were close. You had just come from a fresh smoke, he could tell. Strange. He was just now starting to realize he’s actually smelt that somewhere before. Not just around the base and at the training field where he usually caught you with a cigarette between your lips but… somewhere specific.
“You know those stuff will kill ya.” He commented and you merely hummed, the sentiment not fully sinking in. He waved a hand at you. “I saw you start your second pack just earlier.”
You shrugged. “We all have our vices.”
Vices, vices. Of course. Though faded it was, the memory was slowly coming back to him; the vast darkness of the mess hall, a silence ruptured by the voice of his own desperation. And that familiar smell. Humiliation quickly reared its fanged mouth to sneer at him.
“Let me see your hands.”
Leon offered his white wrapped fingers and you took them carefully into your palm, turning them and eyeing the handiwork before unlacing the white strips to fix the looseness around his thumbs. Your attention drew to the furiously red scabs on his knuckles as they revealed themselves and you frowned.
“I better not hear you’ve been overdoing your training.”
He didn’t respond. His eyes followed your strong arms as they finished his wraps before stepping away to shoulder off your jacket and hang it over one of the machines. You turned to him with a cocked brow, gaze expectant as you rolled your white sleeves up to your forearms, leather-clad fingers shining under the ceiling lights.
“You—you were there that night, weren’t you?” Leon croaked; his throat uncomfortably dry as he swallowed.
Your eyebrows twisted into another frown. At first, you were confused but the deep red of his face was all the explanation you needed to make your pulse throb in your ears. Leon scoffed impatiently, his entire body growing visibly tense as he threw an accusatory finger at you.
“Don’t give me that look. You know what I’m talking about. That—that fucking cigarette smell.” His head trembled as if he meant to shake it but couldn’t manage enough strength to do it. “I knew I recognized it. I smelt it on that night, too.”
You opened your mouth to protest but words failed to come to your aid. You only stole your gaze from him and pinned it to the ground.
“Why didn’t you stop me then?
“It was none of my business.” You met his eyes again, your hands curling into loose fists in a futile attempt to steady yourself as your entire body began to quiver. The look Leon gave you was enough to let you know he didn’t really believe your excuse. “You’re upset I didn’t? It’s not too late. I can still write you up.”
“You were watching me.”
Your fists gripped painfully tight, the velvety leather squeaking from the pressure, teeth gritting as you felt your resolution quickly ebb.
“Is that why you kept it to yourself this whole time?”
“That’s enough.”
Leon nearly recoiled at the cutting look of pure fury in your eyes. His lips fluttered but he couldn’t find the words to speak, his face tingled with the cold wash of embarrassment. 
“Are you done running your goddamn mouth, Kennedy?”  
He bit his lip. “Yes, Miss.”
“Good. Now give me ten laps around the posts.”
He choked down the complaints burning on the tip of his tongue, defeatedly making his way to the nearest column. He could see you in his periphery as he readied himself; arms crossed tightly over your chest, the worn look on your face replaced by one of contempt. You weren’t trying to run away so that had to amount to something. This was a conversation to be had later. He was going to make sure of it.
You weren’t paying much attention to him once he began; Leon could clearly see it every time he ran past you. You stared off into the distance, only occasionally raising your head to announce the number of the laps he finished. He resented the heft of the silence that weighed down between you, the tension that seemed to be winding only tighter and tighter. The stinging in his legs were slowly fueling his frustration the longer he went on and he was nowhere near done.
“Why are you doing this?” He grunted as he circled you once again, his eyes only fleeting over the vacant look on your face. “Are you really that fucking scared to talk about it?”
You were scared. Very much so, in fact. Underneath the stern, hard mask you’d donned sat the trembling frame of a simple woman stewing in the barrage of her own harsh reality. You were already riddled with the shame of all that you have done in the confinement of your own privacy but Leon continued to dig at your core, persisting to exhume the emotions you tucked away behind a veil of indifference and authority. 
Your arms gripped themselves more firmly across your chest, pushing yourself to ignore the distance that was shrinking between you as he progressively tightened the circles he ran around you. Your nails hooked themselves in your flesh, teeth gritting nervously.
“I just want to talk.” His voice came from behind you this time. He spoke so gently, it gripped at your heart. “I’m not upset. I just—” You felt the warmth of his hand caress the crook of your neck, carefully urging you to turn around. “I just want closure.” 
You remained steadfast to stay very still, afraid to meet those bright eyes again, fearful of how terribly your own body might betray you. You merely offered a small glance over your shoulder.
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
His fingers slipped down your arm, his body nearly pressing to your back. You could feel his all too welcoming heat embrace you like a cocoon, the gentle waft of his breaths over the shell of your ear. The closeness was enough to make you feel light on your feet. He sounded much more annoyed when he spoke again. 
“I, on the other hand, think there’s a shit ton to talk about. So, turn around and look at me when I speak to you.”
You did. You spun slowly on your heels and finally faced him. His lovely face was crumpled. He looked utterly defeated. Debilitating shame began nipping at your heart again. Had you only stayed away that night – had you resisted temptation and did the only right thing.
“I asked you a question.” He demanded with a heavy frown, his grip turning iron tight on your arm and you stifled a grimace. 
You didn’t have it in you to be honest but at the same time, you couldn’t find the will to spit a lie straight to his face. Your features distorted into a scowl to match the one on his, teeth clenched and bared through an ugly snarl. What you did next shocked even yourself.
Leon didn’t see the fist flying towards his face in time and he stumbled back before he could retaliate, releasing your arm to catch himself against the column behind him. His eyes were wide and disbelieved; a hand plastered to the rapidly blossoming flush on his cheek. 
“I’m still your superior, Kennedy.” You growled. “You fucking respect me.”
A smirk, though faint, formed at his lips as he straightened himself. “Right now, you’re nothing but a desperate little coward to me. And since you’re too damn afraid to admit it—” He cocked his head, his glittering eyes hiding in the shadow of his unkempt fringe. “I’ll say it for you. You were there that night. I know because I smelt you.”
You stalked closer to him and in that instance, Leon suddenly felt truly unnerved. You no longer looked at him as if he were just a cocky recruit trying to get under your skin. You looked at him like a predator on a prowl, claws brandished to slash. Your shoulders were stiff and straight, your heels echoing menacingly in his ears as you walked closer towards him. 
“You better shut your mouth before I shut it for you.” You said, low and deep, eyes twinkling dangerously. It made goosebumps rouse on his skin but he held his ground. 
“You’re fucking pathetic.”
He knew very well he was playing with fire. He’d never seen you look so furious. So terrified. You were visibly shaking, furrowed brows twitching above your narrowed eyes – a cornered wounded wolf. That was what you were now. You were driven by anger or impatience and both were equally petrifying; the brilliant solider had leapt forth to project unto you. 
“Did you really think you wouldn’t get caught?” A teasing laughter bubbled up his throat. “Be honest with me just this once – did you touch yourself, too?” The look on his face grew more wicked at your prolonged, struggling silence. “Mhm, I bet you did.”
“Don’t flatter yourself—rookie.” The nickname came with much more bite this time and a pang of offense began growing deep in Leon’s chest, tugging immediately at his brows. “You’re barely my type.”
That was enough to push Leon into motion. His punch shot straight for your throat. You dodged just in time for his fist to dart past your neck. Raising your leg immediately, you kicked him in the stomach and he staggered back against the column with a pained groan, clutching at his shirt as he curled into himself. 
“That’s bullshit.” He panted, struggling to straighten himself back up, lips giving in to an unseemly smile. “I’ve seen you checking me out, sweetheart. Especially, when we train – you practically eat me up with those eyes of yours.”
A sharp, angry breath escaped through your nose, fists winding tight once more. Leon chuckled darkly. Bullseye. It was so easy to draw out those unspoken reactions that told enough all on their own; the stark change in your posture and face at every turn of his words was laughable. 
He grinned slyly as he continued, “can’t say it doesn’t stroke my ego a bit. You don’t give anyone the time of day. Yet, here you are.”
Your eyes narrowed into slits, chin tilted up as you stared at the young man down your nose. He held your gaze with his unwavering smile, knowing he now had you exactly where he wanted you most. Trapped with no way out. That was bound to make you finally spill your guts. 
“So, you might be saying one thing but everything you’ve done so far, isn’t convincing me.” He finished with a nonchalant shrug, his boyish smile growing wider across his lips. “It’s okay to have favorites, Lieutenant. Just admit it that I’m yours.”
You were stuck. Leon was adamant to do you in until nothing was left of you but the toxic concoction of your emotions; until you were stripped down to nothing but the bare bone of that terrifying truth hiding just within. You were truly stuck and you could feel yourself sink rapidly into despair. The quicksand you’ve created finally starting to swallow you whole.
“I know you like the big boys better and I promise you, Miss – I’m very big. I can show you. You just have to ask.”
“Do you have any idea what you’re asking for right now?” You rasped, face stricken with one look of pure defeat. Your inhibition slowly becoming lost to the beckoning cry of desire.
He nodded. “I know that I want you. Really fucking bad. And I told you I’d do anything.” He carefully reached for your wrist and held your hand close to the front of his pants. Your eyes fell on the bulging tension of his crotch and you swallowed, breath hitching in your throat. “So, I’m asking you to touch me and see for yourself. I’ll be good for you. Promise.”
You hooked your lip between your teeth, eyeing Leon’s pleading face before letting your gaze drop again to his crotch. He squirmed ever so slightly under the weight of your probing eyes, his fingers twitching over yours as they held onto you. This was it. You could finally have him.
He moaned shakily once your palm enveloped him, head lolling back against the wall. His hand gripped your shoulder as if you were his lifeline and he would collapse if he didn’t cling to you. Heat rushed through you as his hardness poked your hand and a wry smirk curled the corner of your mouth, confidence returning to your words.
“So hard already?” You chuckled teasingly. You leaned into his ear, breathing gently against the side of his face, your voice turning deep and husky. “Who’s the pathetic one now?”
Leon whimpered incoherently and a wicked grin broke upon your lips. You began pressing a trail of wet kisses to his jaw, humming softly against his skin the more he moaned, intrigued by the generous reactions coaxed by such simple gestures. Any louder and he could be heard through the doors had someone walked by.
“Such a needy little puppy. You’ve been dying to find a way to get my hands on you. That’s why you wanted to train in private, didn’t you?” He only whined in response, writhing against your hand to seek a rougher friction in spite of your miserly touch. You giggled. “Not so cocky now, huh?” 
“Please—please, Miss. I—I—” 
His trembling fingers pressed your hand harder to himself, holding your wrist firmly just to slide your palm back and forth over his cock. You let him have it, relishing in the succession of high-pitched moans that slipped through his lips.
“If you want something from me then I need to hear it first.”
“More. I – I need more.” He rasped. “I need to feel your hand on my cock. Please.”
You smiled as you kissed the corner of his mouth, your fingers starting to fidget with his belt and undoing his pants as quickly as you could. He breathed out a quivering sigh once the fabric grew loose and began slipping down from his waist. You slid a finger under the hem of your glove but Leon stopped you immediately.
“Keep them on. I don’t mind the leather.” 
Your smile broadened, twisting into a crude crooked grin at the corner of your mouth. Leon laughed breathlessly.
“God—that look in your eyes…” He sat a hand on the side of your neck, looking up at you through his long lashes, eyes sweetly round. “You’re dangerous. You could ruin me and I’d fucking let you.”   
You shushed him and he nodded obediently, sinking your gloved hand in his boxers with teasing speed. A loud moan erupted from Leon as the cold smooth leather engulfed him entirely. He bucked unwittingly into your touch, slipping clumsily in and out of your hold once you began stroking him. 
He plastered his palm over his mouth to sheath the uncontrollable noises tumbling freely out of him. You couldn’t help but snicker and his face immediately glowed a pretty flushed pink, a window of apprehension opening through the dazed look in his eyes.  
“You’re so fucking cute—gosh.” Your mouth pressed to his ear and he shuddered as you growled, “I want to eat you up. I want to fucking eat you all up.”
Your lips slipped below his jawline to trace the span of his soft neck. He gasped at the first kiss, a tiny giggle rising in his chest as his head jerked at your ticklish touch. You gripped him more tightly and the jovial bounce in his throat waned into a loud whine. His hips twitched at the firmness, his hand lightly pushing at yours as if he was suddenly too sensitive to touch. 
“S—so rough. Mhm!” He whimpered. 
You eased your hold on him and his shoulders instantly relaxed, a content huff of breath escaping his parted lips. But soon, he began moaning a complaint. “Use me. I can take it.” He mumbled through the slow pumps of your hand. “Don’t hold back on me, honey. Please.”
No more needed to be told. Your speed upped instantaneously and so did the tone of Leon’s moans, piercing and loud, and he had to muffle them against his palm again. Your teeth latched onto the delicate skin of his neck, roving and bruising every bit of free expanse they claimed.  
His curses were strangled, his moans purely made of inaudible sobbing sounds, spitting and shrill and filtering with ease through his fingers. He was getting close and you could also tell by the way he throbbed and leaked in your hand; and by the simple way he couldn’t get a proper string of sentence out to let you know.
“I’m… I’m… I’m gonna cum. You’re gonna – you’re gonna make me cum.”
“It’s alright.” You cooed under his ear. “You can cum for me. Go on, sweetheart.”
And as though you tugged on the strings of his orgasm like a puppet master, he came apart with a sonorous and dulcet moan, pouring himself into your fist. You carefully withdrew your hand as his erratic breaths slowly turned calm and even.
Leon eyed the glistening sleek coating your gloved fingers as they went back to hang at your side again. You really did it to him. Him. That was surely the unthinkable and he couldn’t believe his stroke of luck. His lips parted with a grin; a gesture which you returned as well until your eyes sought the large clock on the wall and a faint frown pulled at your face.
“Guess you have to skip laundry day this time.” He tried to earn back your attention as you turned away from him and slid off your gloves. But it was pointless. You weren’t looking back at him anymore. Worry quickly weighed down on his eyebrows as he busied his hands with his jeans. “But what about you?”
However, you were already moving towards your jacket. He was confused. What happened?
“I have to be up in a couple hours.” You sighed, adjusting the lapels of your jacket. “I’m going on a mission. If things go according to plan, it shouldn’t take more than a day.”
It was as if he was struck by the full weight of a crushing wave at the news. He knew this was your job and soon to be his. But he hadn’t anticipated the anxiety to hit him as hard as it did now. The lines of worry etched deep between his brows. You smiled.
“Don’t look so nervous now or I’ll start thinking you actually care about me.”
He scoffed in defiance but he didn’t say anything. Of course, he cared about you. But he couldn’t bring himself to speak it. It was embarrassing and he doubted this – whatever this was – went beyond just plain entertainment. Not that he minded. But your assumption felt like a stinging stab of insult. 
“I’m only doing a short protocol run in Raccoon City. But I won’t be on my own.” You explained. As if that could help.
His eyes shot up to yours at the mention of the city and you immediately regretted ever opening your mouth, muttering a curse under your breath. He strode towards you and gripped your shoulders. 
“I’m coming with you.”
You rolled your eyes. “You’re staying at the base just like the rest of the recruits.”
“But—”
“None of that.” You raised your palm defensively. “My job right now is to protect you and this isn’t up for debate.”
“I’m perfectly capable. I survived an outbreak. A small protocol run is nothing. I can do it. I know I can.”
You raised your voice, your tone growing biting and authoritative. “You listen to me, Kennedy. I don’t care what your status was before you came here but right now, you’re not a soldier. So, when I say you can’t come along then you won’t. Am I clear?”
Leon turned solemn. His eyes, now hopeless and downcast, fell to the ground. You heaved a heavy sigh, sitting a gentle hand on the young man’s shoulder.
“Look, I can only imagine what you’ve been through,” you started, voice hushed and soft. “And I can tell that city means something to you. And I promise, one day, we’ll go there together. But today – try not to be a hero today.”
He nodded even though you could see how hesitantly, and you finally let your hand drop from his frame, a content smile ghosting over your lips. Leon reached for your wrist once you turned to walk away, his fingers pressing gently to your skin.
“Please be careful.”
You nodded. “Always.”
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You were gone by the time Leon woke to begin his day. Training wasn’t the same without you as the substitute soldier watching over the field only reminded him of your absence. It shouldn’t have taken more than a day. So, he awaited your return impatiently. 
But how naïve he was to believe that? Of course, you had to have been merely comforting him. One small look at that pitiful look on his face and you leapt to remedy his worry. Because now it had been more than a whole day. Days even. And yet, no sign of you or the team who had gone with you. 
He asked around the base for you, the mission, anything that could ease the deadweight of dread in his stomach. However, the unresponsiveness was driving him insane; and learning to expect the worst since not long ago, he couldn’t stop from convincing himself that something had gone terribly wrong. 
Then, at long last on the eve of the third day, your helo showed in the clear sky over the base. But the air was already heavy as it landed and the soldiers deplaned, their number significantly less than when they first left. Something had truly happened. 
Leon held his breath as he sought your face amongst the rest, his pulse quickening more and more the longer you remained missing. And finally, the helo took off back towards the sky without you ever even showing up.
He felt his stomach sink, his knees nearly giving away underneath his weight. His eyes frantically searched the perimeter filled with the returning soldiers and the crowd gathered to welcome them back, hoping he had somehow missed you walking among them. 
“Did you hear what happened to those poor fuckers?” He heard a voice pipe up beside him. “Almost found none of their remains. Makes you glad you aren’t one of them, huh?”
Another voice chimed in. “It sure makes you believe in the cross and the lord.” A muffled chorus of laughter rolled between the bunch. 
Leon didn’t wait any longer to hear the rest of conversation, rushing back inside the base to where he could get a proper fucking word from someone. (Y/N), please, please, please be okay, his mind reeled with the thoughts. Fuck, I knew I should’ve convinced her to take me with them.
Without thinking twice, he turned the corner that led down to your office. He blinked and instantly, realization dawned on him. You were always there for him whenever he sought you out – always in possession of the answers he was looking for. And now you weren’t here to quell his fear like you always did. As he neared the polished wood of your door and raised his knuckles to knock, he feared you wouldn’t be there to welcome him like you always did. He feared that the unfortunate fate of those soldiers had befallen you as well.
All of a sudden, his eyes were drawn to the passing figure just down the hallway, catching enough sight of it to quickly realize the man was one of the soldiers accompanying you into the mission. Leon called out to him, his voice lost in the commotion, chasing after him through the narrow walls.
“Sir. A moment?” The older soldier only spared a brief glance at him, not stopping to fully acknowledge him. “Where’s Lieutenant (L/N)? Did she – did she make it back?”
For a long moment, the man remained silent and Leon thought his question was going to be unanswered yet again. Then he began dreading the actual answer – if it was going to put the seal of confirmation on his worries. 
“She’s in the interrogation room.”
That was all that came through that tight-lipped mouth before the soldier hurried off. Leon’s steps slowed to a stop. He was a dizzying turmoil of emotions; relief that, finally, he had word that you were okay and the ebbing adrenaline giving way to mere confusion. What had happened that’s sent everyone into such a feral panic? 
It took him a while but eventually, he managed to find you. Or where he believed you to be. A few soldiers loitered outside a door, waiting for something. White light flared from the small window that peeked inside the room. He stalked closer, heart hammering in his chest to having had at long last found you – safe and alive – sitting behind a table. 
Across from you was a person, wound in obscene layers of chains, head completely sheathed within a thick wrap. Their shoulders were slouched, shifting erratically with every breath they drew as if they were shaking. They were very still for a few seconds until Leon noticed your lips move and they shot straight to their feet, too keen to lunge at you before they were promptly subdued by their restraints; and they slumped back in their seat. 
You were rather calm, a loose fist flexing slowly on the tabletop. But a faint frown tugged at your brows and that was enough to let Leon know you were frustrated. The conversation, whatever words being exchanged, wasn’t going too well. 
It didn’t take long for you to finally resign and walk out of the room. The soldiers outside straightened to your attention, awaiting your commands. Only then Leon noticed the sling over your shoulder and his pulse began to race once again.
“Lieutenant!” He beckoned impatiently as soon as the door fluttered shut behind you. 
A weak smile crossed your lips, nodding at him before turning your focus to the other men in the hallway. 
“Alert the medics right away. She needs DEVIL.”
“But, ma’am—” Objected one of the soldiers and you interrupted. “We don’t have much time left. We need her compliance if we want any information out of her.”
The bunch nodded and offered their salutes before entering the room to follow your orders. That was when you slumped against the wall, a worn breath heaving in your chest. Leon came to your side immediately. 
“Jesus, (Y/N)—I was so worried.”
His lips pressed to your forehead, fingers gently cradling the back of your neck. The kiss was lingering and firm but relieved. It almost managed to wash away the exhaustion weighing on your shoulders. You smiled timidly at him once he leaned away.
“I came back a few hours ago – I’m alright.”
“You’re hurt.” He bridled, gesturing at your arm. “I should’ve been there. I should’ve — I should’ve done something.”
“Leon, I promise. I’m fine.”
“What the hell even happened out there?”
“We just ran into a nasty surprise.” You rubbed your eyes with a deep sigh, struggling to keep the wearing impact of the mission at bay. “Found a survivor. Can you believe it?”
“Her?” He motioned with his head at the window, the bound person inside the interrogation room and you nodded.
“She’s damn lucky we found her when we did. As much as she dealt us some damage.”
He waved a hand at the cast around your arm and you suddenly felt the urge to shrink away from him. The fury was pure evident in his voice when he spoke again, his voice low and gruff. “She did this?”
“Calm down.” You scolded gently. “She’s been through it. If you can’t tell, that’s not her right now.”
You started down the hallway, the same path Leon had come earlier to find you, and he trailed behind you like an orphan puppy, continuing to pummel you with his arguments.
“Which means It’s stupid to show her this level of mercy. Did no one learn from what happened?”
“Leon,” you breathed out another sharp sigh, turning your eyes to glance at the visibly annoyed look on his face. “This was a group decision. Do you trust your superiors?”
The silence he responded with grew questionably long. You stopped and he only did so a few steps ahead of you, turning his shoulder hesitantly, knowing fully well you were expecting him to say something.
“Do you trust me?”
He nodded. “I do. Yeah.”
“Okay. Then I promise you, this is for the best.”
Then it hit you; a stab of debilitating pain sending your vision churning as if you were stuck inside a blender. You braced a hand against the wall as you groaned, eyes squeezing shut. Leon looked horrified. His gaze fell on the dark splotches of blood seeping through the white bandage of your arm and he began to panic, rushing to hold under your good arm.
“I’m fine.” You croaked, willing yourself to move without his aid but the blood loss was finally taking its toll.
He frowned. “Really? You’re bleeding.”
And with that, he dragged you to the hospital wing despite your irritated objections. 
You were fine. You continued to insist and insist much to Leon’s disdain. Of course, this wasn’t anything you couldn’t recover from and you made sure that was ingrained in his brain by the time you were nearly done with your blood transfusion. And by then, he had shot down every one of your complaints with a lenient glare which did little to silence your petulance.
He kept his distance until your nurse stopped frequenting your bedside and then he crept closer to you like a scared stray. As if he was afraid to set something off and send things into a spiral. Though the look on his face told you he was still slightly irked.
“You’re insane. In case I haven’t told you, yet.”
You laughed drowsily, a bitter edge to the otherwise joyful sound. Leon’s hand slipped over yours, hesitantly at first, then he gripped them tighter, fingers threading together.
“You worry too much, rookie.” You offered a lopsided smile, taking in his face that was silhouetted against the fluorescent ceiling lights. “There are much bigger things than me here.”
“Don’t.” He choked out and your brows furrowed, initially confused by the sudden change in his voice until you noticed the glistening line of tears coating his lashes.  
“Oh, Leon—”
“Jus—st stop saying things like that.” His eyelids flickered rapidly, blinking back the impending fall of hot tears. “It’s not fair. Why does it have to be you?”
You scoffed another laugh. “Jesus. I know I don’t look like it but I’m still alive, you know.”
His lip began to quaver and he bit it into his mouth, stealing his face away from your eyes as a streak of tears streamed down his cheeks, his fingers trembling between yours.
“Leon, look at me.” You crooned sweetly, squeezing his hand. He refused, his gaze still glued to the ground. You smiled. “Come on, baby. Look at me.”
The soft tone of your voice, the pet name, captured his ears, and he finally returned his attention to you. His rigid shoulders sank as you slid your hand from his grasp to pat on the mattress. His glossy eyes locked onto yours momentarily before he sat down on the edge of your bed and helped you sit up.
You brushed away the wet trail of tears with your thumb before holding the side of his face, pulling him in just slightly before he eagerly closed the distance between you, kissing you chastely on the lips. The anxious tension thawed out almost immediately, giving its place to a swelling comfort. 
“I’ll be fine, okay?” You murmured once you let go. “I don’t want you to worry so much about me.”
Leon nodded but his eyes weren’t looking at you anymore. They were pinned down to where your fingers sat woven together on the hard mattress. 
“I’m sorry.” His voice was quiet, almost inaudible. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want anything happening to you. But he couldn’t speak those words, fearing it would turn real. That he would curse the one good thing he had going in his life for once. “I know you got this.”
“Is this – what is all this about?”
He hooked his lip between his teeth, the warmth of his hand leaving your fingers. You waited patiently for his answer – if there was going to be any. His silence was enduring and heavy and all of a sudden, you felt as though a thick wall of glass erected between you.
“It’s nothing.” He murmured.
Your lips curling into a sweet compassionate smile. As much as he fought to hide it, his fear was laid bare before you. You could tell what could be going through his mind when he was faced with the possibility of loss. Something you had to experience many times – with loved ones and otherwise. You never got used to the grief and you could easily understand him. 
“I was a bit younger than you when I first signed up,” you started. “Back then, I thought I was only running away from my old life; but I was also leaving someone very close to me behind. Someone who loved me more than anyone ever had.” Leon glimpsed at you from the corner of his eyes and at the bitter quirk of your lips as you recalled the memory. “When I left, I became a dead soldier walking in her eyes. Then that goddamn outbreak happened and… and…” You drew a shaky gasp, shaking your head lightly at yourself. Your fist folded against your chest, clasping around a pendant hiding beneath your shirt. You heaved a sigh before you continued, “when I went back to the city for the first time, this was the only thing left of her that I could find.”
The dull silver dangled over your shirt, the frail thing blackened in parts, no doubt an aftermath of the government bombings of the city; the locker’s tiny hinge was askew and its delicate carvings had almost completely melted off. A sullen huff of laughter pushed through your lips.  
“In a twisted way, I was the one who outlived her. That doesn’t seem fair, does it?”
Leon remained quiet. He didn’t know what to say. He knew this was a realistic way of seeing things, almost expecting what your next words meant to be. But he couldn’t shake the bothersome weight of cynicism laced in your tone – in everything you said. It all sounded much too bleak. 
But maybe this was what everything meant to be: bleak. Bleak and unredeemable. 
“What I’m trying to say is—” You breathed out another sigh. “You can’t keep guessing what cards you’ll be dealt. You just have to put your best one down.” 
“It’s really not that big of a deal.” He mumbled in weak protest.
Your shoulders shifted in a lazy shrug. “I really hope so.”
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They codenamed her Banshee; that strange woman who ambushed the mission team and ended up being held captive at the base. 
Leon never saw her since the morning of your return. You were strangely secretive about it unlike how often you were there to ease his mind in the past. The confidentiality was troubling him even more. What was so important about this woman? What information could be needed from her? Why was she being held like a prisoner?
All the suspicions and the questions were why he discovered those agonized shrieks himself – one night when he passed the infirmary room on his way back to the barracks a little before curfew. Or rather, snuck. Because you had refused to take him with you. Again.
The mazelike hallways leading to the infirmary was restricted for most, he soon came to realize. Guards littered the vicinage. Security cameras hung from every crevice with every corner he turned. Just what the hell were they trying to protect? Leon had to find out. He had to know what ungodly things were being done to Banshee to rouse such gut churning noises out of her. If she was treated then this was blatant torture; and that altruistic part of him couldn’t close his eyes to it. 
Of course, he wasn’t capable of much in his position. But now, your words weren’t enough to convince him anymore. For once, he was doubting you. Because he’d seen you on the very same night he snuck into the heavily guarded unit. You were definitely in on the matter, you knew the complete extent of it; yet, you refused to confide any in him, pretending things were sound and fine. Lies, lies, lies. It was driving him up the wall.
Though maybe his haste had fueled his recklessness a bit. As much as he moved calculatedly, making it on the precise minute the night guards were changing post, it was completely lost on him that a higher rank soldier could arrive at any given instance. Because that was how you caught him.
You saw the faint shape of a shadow shed onto the floor, its source evidently cowering just behind the corner of the wall. It remained completely still as you squinted with suspicion into the distance, one hand reaching slowly for the pistol in your holster and brandishing it. 
“Who’s there?” You called out, cocking your gun. “Show yourself.”
Leon looked to his side where he had just come from. The new guards were going to assume post soon and they were going to find him here if he didn’t do something quickly enough. He could hear your slow footfalls as you crept closer to where he stood in hiding. 
He raised his palms, sheepishly slithering into sight beneath the pale red ceiling lights. You breathed a relieved sigh, lowering your arm. But then, a deep look of anger struck your features.
“Somehow I knew you’d still come here.” You said through teeth. “Do I wanna know what you’re even up to?” 
“I’m sorry, Lieutenant.” He choked out.
You rolled your eyes, stepping closer to him and he grew visibly tense; straightening his neck, eyes avoidant and staring right past the top of your head. His throat shifted as he swallowed thickly. Your frown deepened, eyes turning narrowed. 
“Wrong, Kennedy. What are you doing here?” Your voice was low as if you didn’t want to be heard.
Leon fought himself to meet your eyes again. You were (Y/N). He didn’t need to fear you. But he was quickly losing faith once his gaze crossed yours again. His words were crippled by his anxiety and he merely gaped as your heated glare remained fixated on him.
A snarl twisted your lips at his helpless silence. You grabbed a firm hold of his wrist and began walking up the hallway, dragging him along with you. He trailed behind like a ragdoll, letting you force him through the winding ways and evade the incoming guards until you found a vacant room and shoved him inside.
He stumbled into the room as if his feet had gone lame, only slowly turning around to face you when you closed the door and flickered the lights on. Of course, you still looked furious and he hadn’t yet found the words to defend himself with. Not that he had prepared much for when he was going to be caught. 
“I’m waiting.” You said curtly, the scowl on your face never changing, slipping your gun back into its holster. 
“I—well, I—I don’t know. I just wanted to see what was going on.”
All of a sudden and without any warnings, you charged at him and Leon recoiled into the edge of the desk behind him, eyes blowing wide with shock. Your curled knuckles sat against his chest, pushing at him firmly.
“You decided to go against my order. And here I thought you trusted me.”
“I do—” He stammered, voice shrill with panic. “I do trust you.”
“This doesn’t look much like it now, does it?” 
“I can explain.”
“Then fucking explain.”
He swallowed again, eyes fluttering rapidly as they shifted around in search for an indefinite point of focus until they found yours again. Your jaw was clenched, a single furrowed brow twitching with frustration. He had to say something to remedy the damage. 
“I just think this isn’t humane.” You arched a brow and his remaining sliver of courage began to dwindle. Thinking of the words to say, he was quickly realizing how idiotic what he did truly was but he continued to speak what was truly on his mind, “it’s not right to do all these experiments on her.”
“You think that’s what’s happening here?”
“No. I—I don’t know.”
You scoffed. “Was it worth it then? Getting in trouble for this. What if someone else saw you?”
“I’m sorry.” He repeated himself timidly. 
“Jesus, this isn’t about that,” your voice rose an octave. “This is dangerous. You could’ve gotten fucking killed.”
Leon stared at you with a slack mouth, eyes wide and scared. You shook your head and stepped away from him, suddenly caving into the sharp strike of pain through your shoulder, a grimace distorting your face. Your hand instinctively rose to put pressure over the bandage dressing your wound. 
He so terribly wanted to hold you and soothe your aches, to place kisses to your hair and comfort you. He hated seeing you so hurt. He reached a hand out towards you, fingers nearly beckoning but they dropped limply back at his side again, thinking better of it.
“One word out of your mouth,” you lifted your head to say with a cutting glint in your eyes, voice almost breathless from that brief episode of pain. “One fucking word about tonight out of your mouth and I’m signing your papers myself. Am I clear?”  
He nodded. “Yes, Miss.”
A deep sigh rushed through your nose. “Does anybody else know about this?” Leon shook his head no and your lips pursed into a crooked line, something slightly akin to a smile. “At least, you were smart about that – come on.”
You gestured with your head towards the door and Leon frowned in confusion, his eyes shortly darting to the pristine white wood before returning to yours. You could easily read the unspoken question written on his face.
“I’m walking you back to the barracks. I can’t have you wandering around on your own.”
The way back to the unrestricted sector was slow yet comfortably quiet. Your focus rest upon avoiding the main hallways where soldiers stood guard and cameras roved the vicinity. He felt oddly safe despite the circumstance – safe with you. 
Leon walked alongside you, the back of your hand warm against his. His fingers begged to spread over your palm and clasp tightly around it. They traced coyly across your wrist and right then, he caught you glancing at him from the corner of your eyes and this might have been a trick of the shadows but he could swear he saw a smile form on your lips. 
Your fingers threaded through his. “I’m sorry for lashing out back there.” You whispered, squeezing his hand before raising it to see the healing scars strewn all over his knuckles. You kissed them with caution and Leon drew a gasp, shivering from the gentleness of your touch. “I was so scared for you. I kept thinking about what would’ve happened if someone else—”
He interrupted, “(Y/N), I know. You don’t have to explain.”  
The shadows cast over your face made the soft frown tugging at your brows much more twisted as you continued to stare ahead into the darkness. 
“You’re not gonna pull this shit again, are you?” Leon almost didn’t hear you with how quietly the question came. “I was serious about it being dangerous.”
An oppressing silence settled between you as he pondered your words. You tilted your head to glimpse the troubled look on his face. Of course, the curiosity wasn’t going to just vanish all on its own. And knowing him, you were quite certain it was only a matter of time until he found another way to the infirmary. You sighed. Maybe sharing some information wasn’t entirely terrible.
“Banshee’s had some interesting developments since getting her first dose.”    
Leon perked up at that. “What do you mean?”
“She’s very strong. Three men can’t hold her down when she starts throwing a fit.” You explained. “And she heals quickly. Tooquickly. The medics have a hard time keeping her IVs in. They think it has something to do with her infection.” You looked at him again. “She still has her intelligence, so combined with everything else – that’s too much power for just one person.”
“What’s she being kept for?” He asked but he had a feeling he already knew even though you refused to answer anymore.
“Just promise me that you will stay away. For your own safety. And stop asking questions for fuck’s sake.”
He stopped and the link between your hands held you back as well. You turned with a frown. Leon’s face was cloaked in the shadows but you could still see his glistening eyes. He tugged you forward and cradled you against his chest.
“And what about you? Aren’t you supposed to be safe, too?”
“Leon—”
“I know we talked about this. I’m not doubting you. I just—” He trailed off, biting his lip before he started again, “I don’t want to lose you.”
There. He finally said it. But your silence was too telling. Then you slowly began to pull away from him. 
You were startled, the plane rawness in the confession making your skin crawl with goosebumps. This – all of this – erased any remaining shred of distance between you. Intimacy had become such a stranger to you after so long, it was difficult for you to welcome it again now. Affection lending all but true comfort, you had come to learn years ago. 
“You can’t. No.” You protested, shaken with panic, pulse racing.
Leon’s grip became tight around you, keeping you firm against himself. “It’s you who can’t. Listen to me—” He gave your shoulder a gentle jolt when your head began whipping around as if looking for a way out. “I won’t let you keep treating yourself like you’re disposable. You’re—you’re so much more than that to me.”
A fragile lump knotted in your throat as your eyes met his again, your lip quavering of its own accord. He held your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek as an adoring smile curved his mouth. You shook your head but to what question or depiction of disagreement, you couldn’t tell anymore. You only knew you were protesting the silent wailing of your heart that called out to him. 
But this felt right. He felt right. Everything about this snippet of time was perfectly that – right.
“Please, (Y/N)—let me show you. Just one chance. Just—just for tonight.”
Your eyes searched his face in the darkness, your heart beginning to hammer in your throat. He was so close to you that you could feel his cool breaths feathering over your skin, slow and even – unlike your sharp ones. His arms held you protectively as if he could shield you from yourself. And in this moment, the idea of letting go seemed all too inviting. 
At last, you nodded sheepishly. “Okay.”
Leon followed you again as you led the way to your room. He had seen your office many times before; the flourishing link between you afforded him confidence to seek you in solitude at times. However, he was never once inside your private quarters. 
The room hardly looked lived in; the bed was clean and made, the desk against the wall barren of any belongings – a room fit for a soldier prepared to depart as soon she was called upon. It all was cold and vacant except for a small pot of plant which sat on the windowsill. The leaves were young and fresh, swaying slowly in the breeze wafting in from the small crack in the window. 
You distanced yourself to shut the window before turning your eyes to the tiny plant, stroking it carefully between two fingers as a smile adorned your lips. Then you peered back at Leon who was still standing at the door, watching you silently with a warm expression, gaze soft and loving. Your heart began to flutter again.
“I’m all yours, Leon.” You admitted quietly, longingly.
He approached you slowly, arms twisting around you once again, engulfing you in his warmth. His lips were merely a breath apart from yours, caressing you ever so lightly. You could feel their tempting softness from this small distance. So sweet. So incredibly sweet. You were already growing weak in the knees.
Leon held your face and at last, his lips pressed gently upon yours. His kisses were paced and sensuous. Careful. His fingers sank in your hair to brace against the back of your neck, his thumb caressing your cheek absentmindedly. Your fist gripped loosely over his chest, the collar of his shirt crumpling between your digits and pulling him tighter to yourself.
A breathless moan escaped him as he stumbled into you from the force and he giggled against your lips, leaning away to smile down at you. 
“You’re so beautiful.” You whispered and his face became flushed, his smile growing bashful. You pushed away the hair from his eyes, letting your fingers rest within the soft locks. Leon pressed a small kiss to the heel of your palm. “Will you promise me something?”
“Anything, honey.”
“Please never cut your hair.”
An adorable, boyish grin lit up his pretty face. “I take it you like it then?”
“It makes it easier to boss you around.” You finished as your grip tightened on his roots and his eyes squeezed shut, his jaw becoming visibly clenched. A tight-lipped moan trembled on his tongue. 
“Always have to make a point to be so mean to me.”
He offered no time for you to gather a response, dropping his hands to your knee and lifting it just slightly over his own leg. “Up,” he muttered and you jumped, coiling your legs around his waist and arms around his neck as he caught you against his hips. His lips were back upon yours soon after.
His head was tilted, mouth parted and tongue flicking teasingly at your lip. Your hand flexing in his soft hair coaxed moan after moan from him before his fingers dug mercilessly into the flesh of your thighs, leading you both down on the edge of the bed. His hands slipped under your shirt, spreading wide over your back as if to claim you beneath his touch.
It was almost instinctual to begin grinding against him, shifting your hips again and again over his cock that slowly became tangibly hard under you. Leon moaned sharp and drawn out, stuttering them against your lips as his kisses grew slow and clumsy. He pulled away a mere hair’s breadth with his eyes still closed, forehead pressed to yours.
“I want to make it up to you.” His nose brushed yours, his wet lips agape and desperate to be put to something as they traced the air, blindly looking for yours again. “Can you lie down?”
You nodded and his hold tightened around your waist, helping you down gently against the hard mattress. His fingers soothed your clothed thighs as he seated himself between your legs. His smile was soft when he pressed a kiss to your knee, nodding approvingly once you began stripping your jeans.
Leon discarded the article onto the floor once it came undone, his hand then quickly returning to your legs to push them carefully apart. He moved with a certain care that made a shy smile grow on your face and a pleasant warmth in your cheeks. You bit your lip, unable to hold in the giddiness that bubbled deep in your throat.
“What?” He crooned with a soft smile of his own, fingers still caressing your legs.
“Nothing. It’s just – this is perfect.” He cocked his head, eyes bright as you spoke. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
Leon smiled again. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
The ensuing silence that formed between you was gentle and comfortable, sitting with its featherlike weight in the air as you both relished in each other’s warmth, doing nothing but merely sharing delicate touches and chaste kisses in between soft loving glances. 
It was as though time had slowed to a stop in the room; no worry or caution waiting to cast doom upon your little square of joy. The turbulence of the vast world lost under the delightful heft of peace seeded within this very moment. Nothing could steal this away from either of you.
When the quiet broke apart, it was you who had reached a hand between your thighs to hold Leon under the chin. He closed his eyes with a content smile before he tilted his head to press another small kiss to your knee, his fingers gliding slowly up the side of your leg.
“You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time.” You confessed, voice low and timid. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize it soon enough.”
He shushed you softly, leaving a trail of kisses lower and lower on your thigh, carefully making his way down to the throbbing wet center awaiting the warmth of his mouth. His gaze flickered up to yours once his lips were a breath shy of your swollen clit. 
“We have the rest of our time to make up for it, honey.”
And when the sentence reached its last, Leon’s tongue sat flat against your pussy. Your chest hitched from the heated contact, breath knotting in your throat. Your core gripped with need as your clit became embraced in the wet heat of his sweet mouth and pinched playfully between his slippery teeth. 
He took to you carefully; his eyes attentive to the flitting emotions on your face and his ears to the soft noises escaping your parted lips. He took in the small movements of your hips as they circled slowly against the mattress, writhing and coaxing bigger moans from you every time you met his mouth more firmly.
Your fingers soon sought purchase in the thin white sheets below you, gripping them tightly in your grasp as Leon upped his pace. He moaned heatedly once your other hand – the same hurting one –reached for the mess of hair on top of his head and threaded through the roots gingerly, pushing his mouth tighter upon yourself.
That was what he needed to lose all sense of self and bury his face into your cunt with a low groan, mouth panting and reeling against you. He took you onto his tongue with fervent vigor, making himself more and more breathless with every flutter along your clit, spurred on only by your encouraging moans and sharp gasps.
“Mmmgod… you taste heavenly, sweetheart.” He moaned breathily, his senses whelmed by the clear flavor of your pussy and your soft smell that made him want to dig into you with the neediness of a starved man’s first supper. “Want my tongue inside you—yeah? Want me to fuck you with my tongue, baby?”
You whined softly at the twist of desperation in his voice as his tongue continued to flicker rapidly over your clit, his mouth slurping your sleek through the urgency of the question. You nodded quickly, moaning your approval right before the firm tip of his tongue slithered into your folds, making you arch your back at the assault of heat lurching deep within your core.
He slid his tongue in and out of you swiftly, moaning as he downed more of your taste, the lucid flavor sending his mind into a feverish turmoil – the focal of his attention stranded in only your pleasure alone. He returned to suck on your clit with a newfound tenacity, his breaths coming short and shallow against your fevered skin. 
“God, you’re incredible,” he muttered through a mouthful. “I need more… I need more.”
The small cot squeaked as Leon began to grind himself against it, his fingers digging crescents into the meat of your thighs, his own desire reaching a melting point as the winding heat in your body mounted the delicious borderline of collapse. Your fingers gripped tighter in his hair, your body growing tense with the anticipation of your release.
“I’m so close. I’m gonna – I’m gonna…”
But the warning came too late as your orgasm coursed through you like a storm and you came with a soft cry, pushing your head back against the mattress, the heat at last breaking loose inside your core. Leon’s lips roved your inner thighs as your high gradually ebbed, pressing slow gentle kisses to your skin. He listened to your soft gasps of breath, relishing in the gentle way your fingers continued to flex in his hair. 
You were strangely meek and sweet in a moment like this, Leon thought to himself; so vulnerable, so… human. The perfect soldier lain on a cheap hard cot, reduced to a whimpering mess at the mercy of his mouth. It made him smile adoringly as he raised his head to look at you.
“You’re still with me?” He said with a soft huff of laughter, noticing how your dazed eyes are still pinned to the ceiling as your chest rose and fell heavily, ever lost in the throes of an utter bliss.
Your head inclined in a small nod before you finally met his gaze with a lazy smile. A nearly silent chuckle slipped through your lips.
“Yeah. Still here.”
Leon lifted himself and over your body. His thumb reached for his own mouth to swipe at the smear of your arousal glistening on his kiss swollen lips. You linked an arm around his shoulders, letting the other sit comfortably down at your side, urging him closer to yourself. He met your lips with his, giving you a small kiss before parting once more. He fingered the side of your face as he looked down at you with a soft look in his eyes.
“You’re amazing.” The smile on his face was broad as he spoke, his thumb brushing over your cheek. 
You rolled your eyes with a ghost of a smile on your lips. 
“I mean it.” His eyebrows raised, giving you a stern nod. “You are amazing. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.”
You sat a gentle hand against his cheek. “What are you doing to me, Kennedy?”
A cheeky, lopsided smile quirked the corner of his mouth as he leaned down and pressed the tip of his nose to yours. His fingers slipped from your face to your hair, brushing through it with care but that playful expression was ever persistent on his face.
“Right now? Probably blowing your mind.”
You rolled your eyes again but a chortle erupted in your throat, making Leon laugh with you in return. He traced his pinky finger over your lips, teasing them apart as his eyes became transfixed by them; his own mouth parted slightly as if in anticipation of another kiss. He looked back up in your eyes once more.
“I just want you so bad right now.” He whispered, his voice a low scratchy rasp, waking goosebumps down your spine. “I’m sorry. I know it’s a lot to ask for. I just—” 
You interrupted him with a kiss, holding the side of his neck to bring him even closer. His content sigh flitted against your mouth as he melted in your embrace. When you pulled away to look at him again, his bright blue eyes were half-closed and smoldering with lust. 
“I want you, too.” You smiled. 
Leon gave a quiet laugh, his cheeks bright with pink. “You do? You sure?”
You nodded and his smile widened even more. He began speaking something but the sudden spike of excitement in his voice made the words string together in a mess of incomprehensible words as he stood to his feet to rid himself of his clothes. You chuckled as you watched him discard the layers without even looking, an infectious grin carving his face in two. 
An amused smirk curved your lips as Leon climbed over you again. He blushed furiously upon noticing that devilish, teasing look in your eyes. He laughed breathlessly, running his nails over the side of his flushed cheek.
“Don’t you dare tease me about this.” 
You laughed more loudly. “I didn’t even say anything.”
He leaned down with a faint smile, his eyes flickering over your face as he squeezed your thighs tightly between his long fingers.
“I know that look, sweetheart. You don’t need words to drive me crazy.”
You raised an eyebrow, still smirking. A playfully stern look crossed his features, his fingers slowly reaching higher for the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your stomach.
“See? You’re doing it right now.” 
“Christ, Leon!” You exclaimed through another fit of laughter.
Leon’s gaze softened again, his thumbs brushing over your exposed ribs, his lips curled into a dreamy smile. “You have no idea how much I love it when you call me by my name.” 
A gentle smile turned your mouth as you drank him in – as if you were looking at him for the first time. You pressed your fingers gingerly against his face, tracing a borderless map across his smooth skin, brushing your fingertips over his lips, his nose, every line, every crevice. He smiled down at you as your touch wandered his features, making a face at you once your eyes met his again.
“I can’t believe my luck.” You whispered with an endeared smile. 
Leon nodded his head, a mischievous smirk sat in the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, me neither. I mean, let’s face it. I’m quite the catch.”
“Shut up.” You scolded gently, your voice roiling with a small chuckle. 
“Make me.” 
A wicked smile tugged at your lips as you buried your fingers in his hair and forced his lips upon yours. His small delicate moan of surprise stifled against your mouth before he gave into you with a small murmur, his fingers caressing your cheeks as he reciprocated the kiss. Then he giggled and leaned away just enough to speak again, his breath one with your own.
“Alright. Point taken.”
You gave an easy laugh, shaking your head, your fingers still threaded in his hair. Leon smiled down at you again, a much more gentle, sincere one that made your heartbeats stutter.
He slid his hand over your torso, slowly making his way up to your chest. Two of his fingers slipped beneath your sports bra, soothing over the curve of your breast before his nails grazed your nipple, drawing a soft gasp through your lips. 
A glint flashed in Leon’s eyes at the sound – a sweetly inquisitive light. His pupils were wide, like two pools of ink; but the mirth was laden there somewhere in those depths, leaping forth through the burning lust. It made his face soften once more as he peered up at you, a tender yet impish smile curling his lips. He moved his hand again, his touch picking up in confidence as he swiped his fingers over your nipple once more. 
Another small sigh of pleasure escaped your lips and all of a sudden, Leon was brimmed whole with the need to put his lips to your skin again. He pushed his mouth against your ribs, his tongue flickering out to claim a taste as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your skin. Then he remained there, his lips trailing a wet path up to the middle of your breasts before his fingers began peeling your sports bra back.
You let him unravel you even more, carefully prying the tight fabric away from your skin. He stared down at your exposed body with his mouth parted in awe. His tongue swiped over his lips before he surged forward again, driven by a need that he rendered to your breasts, taking each nipple with renewed fervor. 
Your chest arched into his touch, moaning breathlessly as he began moving towards your neck, his face practically burying itself in your skin with how hard he was pressing his mouth onto you. His kisses were much less forgiving now, fluttering from his lips with bruising intensity, as if each lustful stroke meant to strip your soul down more and more. 
Leon raised his mouth to your ear, his breath warm and uneven against your hair. “God, I need you,” he whispered hoarsely, his voice no longer bearing its previous hint of airiness, a rich beckoning of desire taking its place instead. “I need you so fucking bad.”
The breath knotted taut in your throat as you searched for words. You nodded fervently, moaning something incoherent before you rasped your agreement, weaving your fingers through his hair to push his face deeper against your neck, pulling a sharp breath from his lips. 
He thumbed your sides as he glanced down between your bodies, his temple pressed to your collarbone, he lifted his hips just enough to position his hard cock between your thighs. His tip pushed gently against your entrance and a soft groan escaped him as though he was already too sensitive. 
“Is this okay?” He paused to meet your eyes again; his face so close, his nose bumped against yours as he shifted his head. 
You nodded with a reassuring smile, coiling one arm around his shoulder as he squirmed ever so slightly, bringing him closer to yourself. A trembling breath flitted through his flushed lips once his hips thrust forward gingerly, the movement slow and cautious, yet his cock finally managed to slip through your sopping cunt.
Another heated groan rumbled in Leon’s throat once he burrowed himself deep inside you, the noise quickly morphing into a desperate, breathless moan. He had to stop for the briefest moment to gather himself, his breaths already short and labored. 
“Oh, my god,” he whined softly, readying himself to move. His face was nestled in your neck, his mouth pressed to you with every single breath flickering like a hot spark against your skin. “You feel amazing. You feel so amazing.” 
Your walls burned deliciously as they molded around his cock, the sensation rousing a satisfied noise from deep within your chest. His entire body was so incredibly warm and the weight of him pushing down onto you was nothing but pleasant; his skin was smooth beneath your gentle fingertips, a sheen of sweat glistening along his neck. He trembled like a leaf as though any moment, his threads were going to come undone.
When Leon began to move, he pushed into you with deliberate care; each thrust was slow but each sank deeply within you, drawing through your walls like a match engulfing in flames. He downed sharp gulps of breath, each exhale then leaving him in quivering wisps. He whimpered softly under your ear, his fingers pressing indents into your hips. He simply refused to pick up his speed. 
His words came rushing through his warm mouth. He kept murmuring incoherently under his breath, the sentences – if you could even hear a proper one, for that matter – twisted into high moans and shaky whimpers as soon as they toppled over his lips. He was a mess. It was pure evident that he was teetering on the brink already. And with how you kept clenching so tightly around him, his will to hold himself at bay was quickly fading.
“Oh, baby… oh, baby…” He kept chanting hoarsely in your ear, the words never finding a fruition, the sentences never fully realized. But even you could tell now: he was close.
You wound your legs around his waist, bringing him even closer to yourself; your fingers moved to his hair again, coiling tightly through the soft locks. Leon whined deliriously into your neck before he raised his mouth to press it clumsily upon yours, his breathless noises flitting against your tongue as it flicked coyly at his. 
The movement of his hips have become erratic, almost shaky, his pace only slightly faster now. His hands held your thighs in a vice grip, the skin beneath his fingertips beginning to protest the pressure but the ache only stoked the pleasure building to crescendo within your core.
“Fuck—I’m so close,” Leon groaned. “Oh, god, I can’t hold myself back anymore.” 
You pulled his face to yours again, your lips colliding roughly with his; and you whispered through the kiss, “go on then. Cum for me, baby.” To which he shook his head vigorously.
“No, no. I want you to cum with me. Please.”
He slowed his speed without waiting for your objection, returning to plowing deep thrusts inside you instead. He grunted with every effort, sweat rolling down the side of his face. You could see this was taking more out of him than he let on. He scrunched up his face, his teeth sinking into his lip. He was just so close. And it was taking every shred of will within him to not just empty his load inside you right then and there. 
“Come on, baby. What are you doing?” A soft frown curled your brows. “I want you to cum.”
You glided your fingers over his back, caressing the skin along his spine. You cooed a string of encouragements to him but he continued to shake his head at you, his body practically vibrating against yours now. You held his face, forcing him to meet your gaze. His eyes were half-lidded and shiny, his breaths leaving him in short rapid bursts.
“Leon—listen to me. You’re gonna be good for me and cum. Alright?” He didn’t respond immediately and the small frown on your face turned into a stern raise of a brow. “Are you gonna be good?” 
Leon gave a resigned whine and nodded his head at last. “Fine. Okay. Fine. I’ll be good.” He sucked in a quick breath and finally, he upped his speed once more. “I’ll be good for you. Fuck.”
“That’s it, sweetheart. I want you to let yourself go for me.”
He nodded eagerly again, his lips, once more, seeking refuge against the soft skin of your neck. He bade your ears whimper upon whimper – those sweet delicate sounds that tickled your senses, growing more and more pronounced the closer he crept on the edge. He continued to shake and you had to wonder if he was still fighting against his own body. 
“You can go faster than that. Come on. I know you can do it.” 
A groan escaped from somewhere steep in his throat and now you knew, the last of his will had finally ebbed. He began fucking into you with much less reverence, the small cot beginning to squeak beneath the both of your weights. You arched your neck as a sudden tide of pleasure broke over your body, your mouth parting for a soft moan to flee. 
“Yeah, keep going like that. You’re doing so good.”
In response to your words, another breathless whine rushed through Leon’s teeth as he kissed along your throat, his hands rising to your sides and gripping you tightly against himself. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck—I’m so close again.” He moaned into your skin, his voice small and high-pitched, nearly breaking as it bounced lazily over those few words.
“I know, baby. I know. Don’t stop now. Just keep going.”
Leon groaned softly beneath your ear. His hips snapped against yours in a few short successions before his body grew suddenly still upon yours. A choked whimper rolled off his tongue, a desperate attempt to muffle himself as he prodded his face deeper into your neck again. His warm cum gushed through your folds, burying the seed within you as he continue to remain between your legs like that.
His breaths flickered sharp and heavy against your skin as he slowly came down, his grip over your body loosening ever so slightly. Once that blissful haze dissipated, his lips began tracing your neck again; but this time, the kisses were much softer, bearing a sated gentleness that made your heart swell with warmth. 
“I’m sorry,” you heard him mumble, his face refusing to lift from the crook of your shoulder. Then he finally leaned away to meet your eyes; his cheeks sweetly red, an adorable crooked grin curling the corner of his mouth. “I don’t know what came over me.”
You chuckled, your fingers dancing coyly on the back of his neck, toying with the silky wisps of hair plastered to his damp skin. 
“It’s alright, sweetheart,” you reassured him but then, a wicked smirk grew across your lips. “You’re way too cute though.”
He rolled his eyes, scoffing softly, with that ever persistent smile still adorning his face. You snickered when his blush deepened, spreading all the way to his ears; and he gave a loud embarrassed groan, hiding his face against his own arm. 
“Stop it,” he whined. 
Your laughter grew in volume as you reached for his chin, holding it gently between two fingers before you turned his face towards yours again. His eyes were glassy and bright, a translucent shade as they peered down into yours with a lingering hint of sheepishness. 
“You’re so fucking cute,” you repeated, your voice a low growl through gritted teeth as if your heart couldn’t contain all the fondness it bore for your rookie.
Leon shook his head slowly, a small giggle bursting from his lips. His eyes were twinkling when he looked at you again, his lips giving into a doting smile. 
“You’re unbelievable.”
You gave another chuckle in response before he rest his head down against your chest. He took in a deep content breath, his fingers falling to your waist to begin trailing aimlessly over the skin. Your heart thumped slowly beneath his ear and he couldn’t help the smile that overcame his lips. 
“Can we stay like this for a while?” He asked, his eyes slowly falling close, his voice barely a mumbled whisper. “This is… nice.”
“Of course.” You smiled when he gave you a short hum in return and you looked down at him, noticing the calm and the sweet innocence which had now replaced everything else on his face. You ran your fingers along his neck again. “You didn’t even hear me, did you?”
He was already fast asleep.  
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Something loud stirred Leon from his sleep; an obnoxious wailing of a siren that startled him awake. It took him a moment to gather his surroundings, finding himself still naked from the night before, tangled in your thin white sheets. He blinked drowsily and frowned at the realization of your absence and then panic began to set in his stomach.
“Shit, shit, shit!”
He nearly staggered to the floor in his haste to get out of the cot, clumsily reaching for his clothes that were scattered around the small room. His breaths were already short and labored as he got dressed and rushed out into the hallway, grimacing once the blaring noise embraced him whole.
The only thought on his mind was to find you.
He took off in the direction of the mess hall, his eyes widening in surprise when a group of armed soldiers hurried past him, bellowing demands over the shrieking noise. This wasn’t just a regular drill, Leon quickly realized, his cheeks tingling from the cold wash of dread. He caught up to the commanding officer whose face was red with sweat and distorted into a scowl.
“Kennedy! The hell are you doing here?” He yelled gruffly.
“What is going on?”
Leon flinched as the loud echo of gunshots rang out through the space, instinctively grasping his head between his hands. A light tremor broke over his body, his heart racing at the very possibility of something truly horrifying.
“We’re on lockdown. Get yourself to the hangar. NOW.”
He nodded fervently in response and began running again, finding another group of soldiers who were headed in the same direction and followed them out to the warm air of the early morning. The dawn was slowly breaking in the distant horizon as he made it to the hangar.
It was easy to make out your frantic voice above the agitated chatter in the room. You were yelling about something but this time, your anger was turned towards another high ranking soldier. He was a much older man. Someone he could tell to be your superior. However, that didn’t stop you from leaning close to his face to scream at him.
“Corporal, with all due respect, that’s the worst choice in this situation.” Leon heard you spit angrily as he stopped in the front of the hangar, standing just ahead of the rest of the crowd of soldiers. “We can’t use the recruits as fucking bait.”
The older soldier straightened his back, his chest puffed out, leaning forward in your space in return to your defiance; a snarl was set deep in his features, his tall domineering stature doing very little to quell your confidence. You didn’t back down. Not even slightly. You held his gaze with as much fortitude even though you had to tip your head back to keep glaring at him.
“We need all hands on deck, (L/N). My word is final. Hand out the damn guns!”
Leon walked closer to you as Corporal distanced himself. He put a careful hand on your shoulder, his heart skipping a beat when you flinched in response to his touch. Your wide eyes met his immediately, a gentleness growing amidst the feral fury within them as soon as he offered you a small but strained smile.
“You’re okay, Lieutenant?” He asked softly, leaning closer to your shoulder. “What’s going on?”
He watched quietly as you heaved an exasperated sigh and knead your eyes before you turned fully to face him.
“Banshee broke out of her restraints at some point in the night. We’re trying to take her down but—”
Leon frowned, his grip tightening slightly on your shoulder, waiting patiently for you to explain but anxiety was threading deeply through his body like thorny vines, clutching painfully at his pounding heart. You sighed again and a speck of that previous anger returned to your voice once you started speaking again.
“But we dealt some fucking casualties already. Now somebody,” you sneered begrudgingly, throwing a sharp thumb over your shoulder at Corporal, “came up with the idea to dispatch the recruits.”
His pulse throbbed in his ears as he listened to you, a soft frown weighing on his features, trepidation sinking deep in the pit of his stomach. Eventually, he let his hand fall slowly back to his side and managed another pursed smile.
“I can do this—”
“NO!” Leon cringed at the unexpected raise of your voice. You grabbed his shoulder and peered deep into his face. You looked scared. More scared than he’d ever seen you. Your eyes were blown wide and your pupils were trembling; a thin veil of glassiness coated them, making them glisten, almost as if you were tearing up. “I cannot – I will not let you. You’ll stay here.That’s an order.”
He smiled again, much more kindly this time, a warm look in his eyes. He squeezed your hand on his shoulder with his reassuringly, before raising his fingers to touch your face.
“With all due respect, if we’re going to fight then we’re fighting together. Besides,” his lips curved into a warm smile, “I’m not letting you go out there without me.”
You shook your head in disbelief as you heard your own words thrown back at you, tears welling up in your eyes. Leon fought the urge to engulf you in his arms right then and there, his chest gripping with ache at the sight of your distraught face. His thumb began brushing over your cheek.
“I can handle this, I promise. Let me come with you. I feel safer that way.”
Your fists curled tightly as you averted your eyes, gritting your teeth. You were in war with yourself, caught in the crossfire of your heart and your mind – the urge to protect Leon and the sensibility of letting him take care of himself. At last, you let a sharp exhale through your nose and gave him a defeated yet determined glance, your head dipping in a small nod. Then you, albeit hesitantly, handed him a gun.
“Stick close to me. Am I clear?”
Leon smiled, letting the gun mold comfortably in his arms. “Yes, Miss.”
“Alright.” You turned your attention towards the room. “We do this as Corporal planned. Everyone, assume your positions.” You unsheathed your own pistol and cocked it with a dirty glare. “We’re taking down the mutant.”
A deafening silence surged through the hangar as recruits sought their assigned groups, their thudding heels against the ground the only noise tearing through the thick air of uneasiness. 
Leon stood closer to you, his skin crawling with goosebumps as a new wave of anxiety crashed over him. This was really happening. The only thing soothing his nerves was your mere presence beside him, filling him with a calming sense of security even as you stood with just one good arm to go into the battle with; the pistol sat in your palm as if it could belong to you alone.
You turned to him, your face grim as you addressed him once again. “It’s on sight, Kennedy. You see Banshee, you shoot. And you don’t aim at anything but her head. Understood?”
“Yes, Lieutenant.” He nodded curtly, donning a courageous look as he cocked his own weapon. 
“Good.” You turned to the crowd once more, yelling much more authoritatively this time when you spoke again, “we’re moving out!”
Everyone moved quietly. It was as though their feet were gliding upon air as the formation of the recruits hurried outside towards the base, the first rays of the morning light shedding a blanket of pale gold over the moving bunch. 
Leon trailed close behind you the entire way, watching you make gestures with your hand once near the building, ordering the formation to dispense and cover as much ground as possible. Then you turned over your shoulder to look at him as Corporal joined your side.
“We’re going in. Stay on guard.”
You nodded once at your superior and without hesitation, he kicked the double doors open. Your small group rushed inside, enfolded once again by the shrieking siren. Disembodied demands were hurled constantly, the words faint over the thunderous noise as you led the way inside. 
Gunshots reverberated through the halls, distant agonized screams bouncing off of the white walls. Mutilated bodies littered the once pristine tiled floors. The thick stench of blood was overbearing, its sight a constant nauseating presence. 
Leon was overwhelmed. His mind kept flashing back to Raccoon City, his thoughts racing with those tainted memories that were quickly riling him up. His grip began to shake on his gun, his heart practically hammering in his throat and all of a sudden, he froze. The sight of the pile of carcass through a corridor was enough to lock him up inside his own brain.
“LEON!” 
He heard the yell too late, only coming to when another shot was fired. He recoiled as the unexpected sound ripped through the fog of his thoughts, his eyes snapping to yours. You grabbed his arm and hauled him to a safe corner as bullets hailed down upon you.
“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, slowly gathering his bearings again.
His eyes searched you and a frown quickly formed at his brows. You slumped to the floor with a hand clutched tightly at your stomach; blood seeped through your fingers, spreading rapidly over your shirt like ink. You were shaking, panting, and your eyes were wide with panic.
“Hey, hey, hey!” Leon dropped to his knees beside you on the ground, his voice low but frantic as he took in the dire state you were in. “Stop, stop. Calm down, sweetheart. Please.”
He pressed his hands over your wound, trying his damndest to ignore your shallow erratic breaths, the awareness of what had happened dawning on him. His broad, terrified eyes staring at the gaping void in your stomach that continued to gush with blood. 
“Shhh… shhh… please, baby. Take a deep breath. It’s going to be okay. You—you’re going to be okay.” His eyes raised to yours, sweat beaded at his brow. He spoke in a hushed yell, “why the hell did you do that for?”
Your panting finally slowed when you tackled the initial bout of panic but your body continued to tremble. Leon chewed his lip as he watched you; your eyes were lidded. He could see the hard movement of your chest as you heaved every breath with difficulty. This didn’t look good. He struggled to shove down his mounting terror as he stared helplessly at you, his hands still covering your wound with pressure. Warm tears began stinging the corners of his vision.
“Leon…” You muttered weakly, reaching your bloody fingers to his face. “I’m so sorry. I…” You trailed off, never finishing that train of thought.
He leaned into your touch as your hand palmed his cheek, gritting his teeth and blinking back the downpour of tears.
“I’m – I’m dying, aren’t I?”
“Please stop talking.” He said hoarsely.
“It’s okay. I’m not scar—” You were caught off by a rattling cough, blood spitting through your lips. “I’m not scared of dying. I’m content. For once.”
Leon held your wrist and clutched your hand against his chest, his tears wetting his lashes, his nostrils pink and flaring.  
“Take care… alright? You’re my – you’re my favorite vice.”
Vices, vices. Of course. You were struggling to speak, to move, to breathe. He could see it. His heart sank when more blood trickled down your lip. He held the side of your face as your neck began to go limp, lifting your head and forcing you to meet his eyes again.
“Don’t you die on me. Please.”
You managed a small smile and gave him a weak nod of your head. “It’s gonna be okay.” A futile attempt to comfort him as you squeezed his hand with the last sliver of your strength.
His bloody fingers raked through your hair, unable to do anything else but watch the glimmer fade in your eyes. Once your grip over his hand was gone, he knew that you were, too. Yet, the revelation dropped like an anchor in his stomach. His hold tightened in your hair, moving your head from side to side as if he was trying to wake you from a deep sleep.
“(Y/N). Please, no!” His voice wavered as he spoke. “Oh. Oh, god…”
But he had no time to mourn; a hand soon found his shoulder and forced him back to his feet. His eyes broadened as he watched you get farther and farther away from him, his feet moving against his own will.
“Let’s go, rookie.” He heard Corporal whisper to him in a gentle tone – one unheard of him until then.
Leon’s eyes fleeted over the older man’s face. The wrinkles between his brows were drawn deeply, his lips pursed as if he was holding himself back from speaking anything more. But the heartbreak glistened in his dark eyes as he stared straight ahead, his hand still wrapped securely around his arm.
“We have to get her.”
“We will.” Corporal responded with a firm nod. “But first, we survive.”
And survive they did.
It was a few hours of sheer hell. Many were slain and, in the end, Banshee escaped after nearly wiping out the entire base. However, Leon stood among his remaining comrades outside in what was once the training field, taking in the ruin which has become of the base. Smoke wafted over the white roof of the building, uncoiling like a black serpentine, a taunting dance of defeat in the clear sky as the sun slowly set over the horizon.
Leon fell to his feet in exhaustion; and as he laid there on the dirt, staring at the fading skies overhead, the weight of reality finally crashed down over his head. So many great soldiers dead. So many lives felled. And you. He drew a deep, quivering breath.
You.
The last few months of training were an uneventful blur. The surviving recruits were moved to a different base and Leon felt utterly lost. For the first time in a while, he didn’t know what to do. It was as though he had survived Raccoon City all over again. But this time around, there was no you to help him navigate, to forget. Even if only briefly. 
Alas, he managed to finish those months that seemed to drag on end. He knew that was what you would’ve wanted from him; to live on – hence why you weren’t there anymore to see him graduate. But if that was all it took to help him through day after day, he was going to hold onto it like his lifeline.
After graduation, the first place Leon visited was that same city you had promised to go with him one day, to show him around the ruins and rubbles of what once pledged a great change to him. The same place that led him down a spiral instead, a cursed shadow now hanging over his head which only seemed to grow thicker and thicker.
He wasn’t going to miss it. Not this damn city. And certainly, not your absence. As he emerged slowly on the brink of Raccoon City, returning from his visit with one of his old commanding officers, he turned to look at the demolished skyline one last time as the first winter snow began to fall, the white beads glowing shyly against the vast darkness of the night. 
The wait was over now. He could finally go out there and leave all of this behind.
His warm sigh left him in a pale cloud as he slowly turned away and towards the flaring headlights of the military truck behind him. Without looking back, he walked to the car and slid into the backseat. He met the driver’s eyes through the rearview mirror and gave him a small nod.
“I’m ready to go.”
He leaned his elbow against the car door as the engine spurred to life, his eyes momentarily flickering to his side at the box of his belongings, that fresh and young pot of plant which was once yours sat atop. 
A faint smile shadowed over his lips as he picked the plant up with one hand and held it under the passing blur of streetlights that poured inside the vehicle. He stroked one of its leaves between two fingers, his smile turning downward as he sighed again. 
It’s gonna be okay, he thought solemnly to himself.
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anystalker707 · 2 years ago
Text
Little secrets
Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x [gender neutral] Reader Words: ~ 3 800 Summary: Zoro always insists a little too much that they stop by a specific island then disappears until they need to leave again. What's going on? Tags: Sub! zoro, dom! reader, embarrassed zoro, pet names, very fluffy Somewhat inspired by @sinsterdarling 's fanfic Not proofread Probably ooc characters, bc im also very dumb MASTERLIST
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          Zoro's eyes narrowed a little as he finally saw the island in the distance and, as much as he could feel certain relief, something also twisted inside his chest because the ship just couldn’t meet the shore soon enough. His grip around his swords was almost too tight, hurting his palm a little until he was forced to let go and find something to do until they reached the island, but it still felt like an eternity until it was finally time to toss the anchor down in the water.
It felt good to finally be on land for once in a while, to have firm ground under your feet. A quiet sigh of relief escaped Zoro's nose as he looked around, tucking his hands into his pockets.
Zoro yawned, watching the others stretch, and check their surroundings. It wasn't much different than the last time they'd been there. The stands near the shore sold fresh seafood, the reason of the incessant shouting of prices and products to attract the high volume of people that walked by. The island wasn't just the Strawhat's usual destination. A few other ships had docked there, being loaded or already leaving to the open sea without the worry of being stopped by the marine. Truly a paradise if it weren't so offhand because of their new routes. Zoro almost had to insist a suspicious amount for them to make a stop there.
The weather was quite nice. It was hot enough to take a bath in the warm sea water, but not too hot that you'd feel like in hell after standing under the sun for longer than five minutes, with a heat that was soothed by the soft breeze. Soft white clouds adorned the blue sky, once in a while blocking the sunlight for a few minutes. It felt perfect. Almost like a home.
"Hey." Zoro attracted their attention. "We are leaving just tomorrow, right?"
"Most likely." Robin hummed and nodded along with Luffy after the two shared a look.
"Right," Zoro exhaled. "I'll meet you tomorrow. Don't bother looking for me or anything, I know my way around."
“Are you sure? You don’t even know left from right.” Sanji clicked his tongue as he shook his head.
“And you don’t even know your own name the moment you see a woman!” Zoto shouted, his hands balling into fists by his sides.
Sanji groaned, eye twitching, and sucked in a breath just to interrupt himself the moment Luffy steps in between the two. “Ohh, look at that! Sanji, do you think you can prepare me something with that?” Everyone followed the direction he pointed at to see a proud man selling octopus that looked better than most of what they saw around.
“Tch.” Sanji sighed. “Of course. Let’s go.”
Zoro turned on his heels to start his own little journey, but stopped when he heard his name being called. Nami stood there with some papers in hands, raising an eyebrow at him. “Are you sure you’ll be fine, Zoro? Where are you even going?”
He rolled his eyes with a soft sigh, though all he bothered doing was to glance back at her. “I will be fine. Let me go, I don’t want to lose any more time.” 
“Ohh, Zoro is full of secrets!” Usopp told Chopper, who giggled along with him. As much as these comments had Zoro’s muscles twitching for him to hit their heads so they’d shut up already, he didn’t want to waste more of his precious time on the island. He closed his eyes for a moment and took in a deep breath so he could focus again.
Right. He was supposed to walk to the right until he saw a sorta alligator–shaped rock, then turn left and follow up to the woods. There was a red ribbon attached to the tree next to the way he should follow—a red ribbon along with some carvings, which sight already almost had him blushing. Swallowing thickly, he glanced around to make sure no one had followed him. There truly wasn’t anyone, but he still held his breath as making his way further down the trail into the woods.
Everything was fine until the way divided itself in two. Zoro didn’t remember whether he was told to go down the way with the tall tree or to avoid it. He stood there for a long moment, just staring at the tree while trying to remember what he had been told. First, alligator rock, then red ribbon, then... tall tree or not tall tree? Fuck off, why was it so difficult to remember? Well, it must’ve been tall tree, right? Or else he would’ve been told to follow the pebbles’ side.
With a shrug, Zoro took the right side and just kept walking, but... Something felt a little off. The ground was muddy, and he was sure it wasn’t supposed to be like that.
“Fuck...” Zoro clicked his tongue, turning around to follow the way back to that intersection. Maybe it really was about avoiding the tall tree direction. Who knew, huh. Now, he just needed to find that intersection and... No way he had walked that much away from it, so why did it never come?
Okay, it didn't seem good. Zoro stopped and scratched the back of his neck as he observed his surroundings. He couldn't see anything after a certain distance because of how the trees embraced the area, so returning to his starting point seemed a little out of question at the moment. The view was beautiful, either way, with the sun poking in through the leaves of the trees, but it was difficult to appreciate it with all the thoughts rushing through his head. Maybe he could set a direction and just walk because he would certainly reach somewhere at some point. Either way, he continued looking for something familiar on his way, walking a little slower than the last time, paying attention to every single sound and detail.
"Oh, what a good surprise!" The sudden voice had Zoro jumping, turning around abruptly, just for the tension to wear out at the moment he saw a familiar face there, giving place to a nice sensation as he felt his heart flutter. It was as if his body had its own mind, taking Zoro to them in swift steps. "Hi! How are you?"
No response came, instead only a warm hug that had both of them content. The world seemed to fall quieter once Zoro found them. His cheeks felt warm when he pulled away and looked at you, eyes flickering over each inch of your figure to take in the sight he had missed so much. His hands held onto your upper arms maybe a little tighter than needed, but he couldn’t risk letting any second near you go unused.
“How are you doing, pretty boy?” You repeated yourself with a soft smile as you gazed at Zoro—he always loved the way you looked at him, as if he was worth something. “I missed you.”
Zoro hummed almost inaudibly, finally nodding. “Doing well, yes. What about you?” As much as you knew it, he wanted to say that he missed you as well, to tell how much he had insisted for his friends to stop by at the island again, but the words just stopped at his throat and left him with an embarrassment and guilt that barely let Zoro look at you in the eyes.
“Fine, yes, but better now that my pretty boy is here with me.” You had a soft smile on your features. Your hand cupped Zoro's cheek softly so you could press a kiss to his face, which made him press his eyes shut for a moment as his cheeks burned hotter. "Come on, I will prepare you something to eat. You must be tired." Your hand fit just right around Zoro's, warm and protective.
Zoro hummed softly, ignoring the fact he had been walking in a completely different direction the whole time. His eyes fell to your other hand, seeing a large shopping bag. "Do you want help?"
"No, darling, it's fine." You smiled softly. "We're almost there, either way."
The place you lived in wasn't too modest nor too luxurious, with enough space for your whims and very well kept. It was almost a cottage, both for its aesthetic and also the way it was situated in a nice clearing with a lake near it, in the middle of the woods, a good distance away from anyone else. You also cultivated a few plants, so there was a beautiful flower garden by the front and a small vegetable one by the back. It was one of the most beautiful sightings for Zoro.
The house still smelled just like he remembered. Not much had changed either since the last time he'd been there, saving for a few of the furniture that changed place and the new decoration.
Inside that bag, you had food, which you carefully put away while Zoro made himself home. He couldn't help but to spot some ingredients for his favorite dish. It was almost as if you knew he was coming, and he wouldn't be surprised if you really did.
There, surprisingly, was a place where he could feel comfortable without his swords hanging from his waist. Not only did he know that you were strong enough to face any threat that attacked the island, but he was also sure he would be one of your priorities when it came to protection.
Zoro didn't really know what to do with his hands as he sat on the kitchen table, watching you assemble ingredients and stir pans until a few plates were set in front of him. There were pancakes, toasts, fruits, honey, hot chocolate, coffee, milk...
"Thank you." His voice was small and quiet, but still made it to your ears and snatched a soft smile from you that made something bubble up inside his chest. Zoro was quick to start eating, balancing it between eating it all at once because of how hungry he was and savoring each bit because he didn’t have the opportunity of eating your food everyday. Fingers touched the hair on the base of his neck, running through the short green strands in a soothing motion that had him closing his eyes for a moment whilst leaning into the touch. His eyes parted open to meet yours—you had a cup in hand while observing him quite adoringly. It somehow made him feel small, though not small as in when he met with an enemy who was resistant to his swords, but as in a way he could be held in someone’s palm knowing he wouldn’t be crushed.
“Is it good, honey?”
He swallowed. “Yes. Thank you so much.”
The constant rush Zoro’s life was in seemed to take an eventual pause when he was there, that small house in a little island making him feel so loved and protected as if it were a palace filled with gold and protected by a thousand gods; so being with you was something like finally allowing himself to rest and feel the weight on his back and chest without feeling guilty that he was somehow losing time.
A soft crack came from Zoro’s back as he groaned while throwing his intertwined hands above his head to stretch. The couch was way too comfortable, but he couldn’t sleep, not right now. He wanted to enjoy every little second with you, more and more, and just being pressed to you didn’t work. A whine almost escaped his throat with it. Almost. Instead, it was a soft him of appreciation because of how your lips met his.
The kiss was slow, but still very intense; the reason and the reward for escaping every adventure alive and in a whole piece, even if the times Zoro showed up to see you had more and more time between each other. He deepened the kiss at that thought, feeling a shiver run down his spine at how your hand met the side of his neck, letting your thumb run against his jaw soothingly.
“Tell me, honey,” you whispered against his lips before kissing your way down to his jaw. “Tell me where you’ve been and what you’ve done.”
A breath caught in his throat until he could finally get used to the soft touches. “I’ve been to somewhere called Skypiea and— And we met another god,” he told.
          “I don’t know if you have ever noticed this...” Usopp attracted everyone’s attention, or at least had Nami, Robin, Sanji, and Chopper looking at him while Luffy wolfed down all the food they’d ordered from a local restaurant. “...but Zoro disappears every single time we come here. What do you think he is up to?”
Because Nami had insisted they ate some of the local cuisine, they ended up looking for a restaurant where they could take a break from their shopping and goods-hunting and sit down to eat, checking what they’d gotten already and what was still to be found. Sanji didn’t seem exactly pleased with it, but ended up going along with it. 
“He is running away from working! He didn’t even take the list of stuff we need to find!” Nami slammed a fist against the table, having Chopper lean away a little with wide eyes, an opposite to how Robin just chuckled.
“Secret mission!” Chopper spoke up, raising an arm. “Or he just goes off somewhere to sleep!”
“Or maybe he sees someone. Or avoids someone.” Robin smiled. “He wouldn’t insist for us to come here just so he could sleep, don’t you think?”
Chopper gasped. “You’re smart, Robin!” He snatched another chuckle from her.
“Of course she is! Only she could think so reasonably!” Sanji nodded frantically.
“I suggest we confirm it,” Usopp chuckled as he rubbed his palms together. “We should follow him!”
“I’m in!” Chopper raised an arm again, almost jumping on the chair, whilst Sanji shrugged.
Nami stared at Usopp for a moment, lips pressed together as she contemplated whether she agreed with it or not. It wasn’t much of her interest what Zoro was doing since he always came back when it was time to leave, but now that Usopp had brought it up and they started making theories... She would be pleased to kick his ass once she found him sleeping somewhere to avoid the job all of them had to do. Or even annoy him for any embarrassing hobby.
“Okay...” Nami nodded.
They had to find Zoro first, that was the hard part. He didn’t come back to the ship at night, so maybe he would come back the following day to make sure they’d leave or stay for a little longer. They needed to keep their eyes wide open for any moss-head.
Luffy was intrigued, an arm over his chest and a finger under his chin while observing whatever food some random old man prepared in front of him, promising it was the best meal in the world. Maybe Sanji could do it if Luffy memorized all of the steps. There were tomatoes, a random fruit, some seasoning...
"Hey, Luffy."
"Hi, Zoro," he replied, voice distant.
"Are we returning today for real?" Usually, they never returned on the day they decided at first because there was always something missing, but Zoro better confirm if he didn't want Nami complaining the whole time and intereupting his precious naps.
"Hmmm... no," Luffy mumbled, "Usopp mentioned something about finding someone..."
Zoro raised an eyebrow, but settled down for not asking anything, only humming with a nod. Luffy barely paid attention to anything normally, so now it would be impossible—he gasped as the man finally handed him the food and started wolfing it down immediately, so Zoro just didn’t even try and started walking away. He wouldn't get lost his time, hopefully. You had given him a paper with the directions.
Luffy had finished eating when Nami approached him, sighing. "Hey, did you see anything?"
"Uh, yeah. Zoro was just here asking if we will really leave today, but I told him not yet," Luffy explained with his hands on his hips.
"Zoro?!!" Nami gasped as she threw her hands in the air, frantically waving for the rest of the group to come by. "And you didn't even call us?! How long has it been?!"
Luffy shrugged. "A couple of minutes."
"There's still time!"
The group left, ignoring the old man madly shouting at Luffy for not paying a thing, but they were already too far and too worried to care about it. The shouting mess tudned quiet at the moment they caught on Zoro's track, standing all together and following him in small steps to make sure he didn't notice he was being followed. Either way, it didn't seem like he would notice them that easily, no—he would eventually pause and rub the back of his neck, muttering to himself and the piece of paper that he held in hand.
"Why does he have that bag? Where did it even come from?" Nami narrowed her eyes, balancing on her toes with Chopper on her back. The six of them crouched behind a bush in a poor excuse of hiding.
A light brown bag hung from Zoro’s back, one that couldn't be theirs. They'd never bought that thing.
"He has a map in hand, I believe," Usopp hummed, rubbing his chin. "Do you think he is delivering something?"
"Looks like it," Chopper muttered, and looked at the others. Robin just gazed at each of them with a light entertained smile on her lips. Sanji, on the other hand, never let his gaze leave Zoro; Chopper could faintly hear him grumbling under his breath about how Zoro preferred to work for others rather than helping them and not even share the berries he earned.
Robin chuckled a little. “Well, let’s hope he really doesn’t lose himself, don’t you think?”
“He must be already lost!” Sanji clicked his tongue.
The way was a little agonizing. The destination never came and they almost had heart attacks whenever Zoro turned around to remake his way because he’d taken a wrong turn—it was hard to know if he even knew where he was going.
Now, Zoro had been stopped for over five minutes already and had no sign of going anywhere so soon. Nami broke the silence with a groan, “we should just confront him already! Z—”
“Zoro!” A voice called, having the six of them jumping and shutting up while they looked around for its source in the direction Zoro turned to. “Over here, honey! I knew you’d get lost!”
“Sorry!” Zoro clicked his tongue, folding the map to shove it in his pocket as he finally started walking again. “I did get everything, though! Check if it’s exactly what you wanted, or else I’ll go back!”
“I knew it!” Sanji shook his head, exhaling.
Once Zoro was a good distance away, they decided to follow him, stopping by the last bushes and trees around the clearing. Their chins fell simultaneously at the sight of the cottage—vines with light purple flowers crawled up the creamy walls, but the ones on the garden could almost be found in all colors, and Luffy already licked his lips at the sight of watermelons growing strong around the side of the cottage.
“Wait... who is that?” Usopp narrowed his eyes as he lowered his binocles, taking a closer look at you. He pressed his lips together, trying to figure out whether you were someone familiar or not.
All of them gasped in unison, however, at the sight of Zoro throwing his arms around your neck while you held onto his hips, pressing a kiss to his cheek before your lips met in a soft kiss. “Thank you,” you said softly. “Do you wish to prepare a cake with me? I would appreciate your help, it seems like we are going to need more food today.”
Zoro furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at you, pulling away a little. “What do you mean?”
“Well, it seems like your friends have found their way after you.” You smiled, tilting your head so you could look past Zoro at the group poorly hidden there. Zoro’s eyes widened at the same moment he whipped his head around, cheeks burning crimson at the sight of his six followers, who sweatdropped, mumbling incoherent excuses.
“What the fuck are you doing here, you idiots?!” He shouted, making you laugh.
“Aw, c’mon, it’s not bad to have visits once in a while!” You pressed a soothing kiss to Zoro’s cheek. “C’mon! Don’t be ashamed, come in!” Waving, you invited them to approach so you could make it into your place.
Weird was an understatement. Who could even imagine they would see Zoro stand there in an apron with you standing behind him, guiding his hands through kneading the dough. Whatever was going on among the others, was just white noise in the back of his mind since time with you was more worth it than whatever the six idiots would tease him for, he could deal with that later.
Everything was already in the oven when you served them more of the tea and biscuits to distract their hunger while the food was still being prepared. “Make yourself home,” you reminded them while serving Robin.
“Your tea tastes very good, (y/n), thank you for it!” Robin smiled before she took another sip of it.
“Why, thank you!”
“But who are you?” Chopper still seemed a little scared, feeling extra small as he sat between Sanji and Usopp for safety reasons. “Wh—Why haven’t we seen you before?”
You shrugged a little, humming. “I’m not sure, but I remember meeting my pretty boy when he got lost around here.” Your fingers ran through the short green strands, worsening the almost permanent blush Zoro already had.
“Pretty boy, hm?” Sanji smirked.
“You’re just jealous you have no one, you perverted cook!” Zoro shouted, standing up and leaning across the table in Sanji’s direction.
“Jealous? With Nami and Robin?” Sanji shouted with a scoff, mirroring Zoro’s position.
Nami rolled her eyes, not even trying to say anything because she wasn’t the one embarrassing herself in someone else’s house, either way.
“Well, it is nice to meet all of you!” You smiled, pouring more tea into the cup that Luffy extended to you. “I have heard a lot.”
“I hope he actually said something good!” Nami gave Zoro a side eye, though it was more of a glare that had him growling.
“Of course!” You chuckled with a nod.
“Hey, Zoro,” Luffy spoke up, “what’s that on your neck? Did a mosquito bite you or something?”
Zoro seemed confused until his eyes widened and converted his neck immediately, blushing profusely. “You idiot!!!”
.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.
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