#when it's clearly only meant for very light skin tones

[ishikawayukis]

people being deliberately obtuse when it comes to understanding why people are upset about this ysl blush shit is gonna drive me insane

[444ngles]

One of your girls

synopsis: after gaining feelings for your fuck buddy Toji, you can't help but feel hurt when he admits he's sleeping with one of his other girls tonight content: chocking/asphyxiation, rough sex, masturbation, mean sex, degradation, praise, riding, slapping, pet names, toji is hung lowkey, overstimulation

MDNI NSFW/SMUT

Typically, you weren’t the jealous type, pretty content with ‘no strings attached’ type relationships. But there was something about your current fuck-buddy, Toji, that brought the green-eyed monster out of you. 

You couldn’t help the twitch of your eye as you read the text from him, stating he wouldn’t be able to come over due to ‘business’. That always meant he was with one of his other girls, too busy to give you the time of day. Admittedly, his reputation proceeded him, you knew this was typical of him way before your arrangement - but you had also assumed you’d treat him like any of your other ‘side pieces’. 

However, after the first month, you noticed yourself dropping each of your hoes one by one, until you were left with no one but Toji. While you liked to deny this was intentional, deep down you knew you enjoyed his company far more than you’d care to admit.

‘Toji, please?’ Embarrassed, you find yourself sending a clearly desperate response, one you couldn’t have possibly justified a month ago. Eagerly you waited for his response, checking way too often for your phone to light up with a response. 

Read…he left you on read. 

With a deep sigh, you accept his rejection, in no state to want to humiliate yourself any further. But still, you could barely ignore the ache between your legs, the one you knew only he could soothe. Getting up from your bed, you head to your shower, hoping to wash the disparity down the drain along with the rest of your thoughts and concerns. 

A sigh of relief pours from your parted lips as the warm water trickles down your back, hitting your skin at just the right temperature. The pattering sound of water to the floor filled your ears, so much you failed to hear the intruder letting themselves in. Normally would’ve recognised the sound of your front door unlocking, and the heavy steps padding straight to your bedroom. But you didn’t, managing to enjoy your soak before returning to the very room that he was in.

“Toji?” You gasped, clutching your towel in shock. 

There he sat, burly figure splayed comfortably atop your bedsheets. Toned arms cradled the back of his head, dark hooded eyes following your smaller frame as it approached him. “Hey, doll.” The scar on his lip stretched as his face morphed, a sly expression gracing his features. 

“Hi...” You would hate to let him know it, but you were so glad to see him. Just his presence warmed your insides, feeling giddy like a child on Christmas. From the get go, there was nothing Toji had that your other ‘friends’ didn’t, he was just a pretty face to you for a long time. But, as of late, you had come to appreciate not only the way he fucked you, but the way he was so subtly attentive. 

“Come on gorgeous girl, get here.” He nodded you over, propping himself up and making room for you. Dropping your towel, you almost break a sprint to get to his side. Maybe too quickly. Little did you know you were running straight to your demise.

Big hands immediately wrapped around your neck, squeezing with such wrath you thought you would pass out. Toji flipped you beneath him with ease, stocky body towering above your own. “Fucking slut…” He spat, literally, the warm liquid causing you to screw your eyes shut. “Couldn’t wait another day…now I’ve got an angry client.” 

Toji called all his girl’s ‘clients’, although, deep down you hoped he didn’t see you as one of them. “I’m s-so sorry, so sorry.” You cough, batting your eyes open as his spit dried on your face. As filthy as it sounded, the way his grip pulsed around your neck, and the warmth of his fluids on your skin was arousing. The ache between your thighs returning from earlier. 

“You better be fucking sorry.” Toji hissed, loosening his grip on your throat. Coughing and spluttering underneath him, Toji couldn’t help but smile, making the most of the sight beneath him. Honestly, he wasn’t all that mad, if anything relieved that you’d double-texted. He didn’t want that other girl anyway, in all honesty, he’d been craving you. His desires were only reaffirmed as he watched you take his brutality, seemingly with joy. To confirm, he slotted his knee between your thighs, revelling in how you whined at the minimal contact. “Such a pretty girl…” He exhaled. 

Toji’s praise went straight to your cunt, paired with the sensation of his knee against your buzzing clit, you were encouraged to grind against him. “Awe…so desperate, been wanting me that bad hmm?” Usually, you would fight back, maybe even mocking him, but you had longed so hard for this. 

“Mhm…so much, please,m-more…” Breathy whines slipped from your lips, feeling discontented by his lack of touch. Usually, he’d be ravenous by now, kissing, biting and sucking on every inch of your skin, however, he was uncharacteristically reserved this time. “Please Toji…I-I need you…so bad!” 

Your moans did not fall on deaf ears, if anything they only threatened his stoicism. Toji loved how needy you were without him doing much, lustful eyes wanting to eat you up in this state. 

“Nasty girl…demanding I come here, and now you’re demanding I touch you?” He scoffed, forcing his knee harder against your core, watching as your dampness discoloured his grey sweats. “So so messy.” He hissed, feeling his cock twitch at the sight. 

“ ‘M-m so so sorry Toji, sorry sir…” 

“That’s okay gorgeous girl, I know you can’t help it.” He scoffed, his cockiness irritating you. 

Reverting his eyes back to yours, he brought his face closer, stopping at a mere breath away. Teasingly, his lips lingered above yours, forcing you to hold your breath in anticipation. Clearly this was a distraction tactic, you didn’t notice him taking his pulsing cock out of his boxers until it slapped against your dripping cunt. Mouth falling open, you watch Toji’s lips form a satisfied smirk, lapping up your pornographic expression. 

“Use it…come on, show me how bad you wanted my dick.” He taunts, grabbing your wrist and bringing it to his tip.

Nodding eagerly, your hand grips just below his leaky head, stroking up and down his shaft. You can’t help but gasp with him, when his jaw slackens, enjoying the sensation of you jacking him off. “Come on…don’t you want to put it in?” He encourages you between subtle grunts, dark eyes locking with yours. 

Bringing his tip to your fluttering entrance, you guide it into your entrance, eyes squeezing shut as his sheer girth tore your insides apart. “That’s it.. good fucking girl.” He cooed, kissing your cheek tenderly as you bucked your hips up into him, pushing him further and further into you. This kindness was not typical of Toji, but you found it encouraging nonetheless. 

Toji’s arms suddenly wrapped around your waist, pulling you up and onto his lap, cock forced further into your tight hole. “F-fuck Toji!” You scream, walls spasming around him. Suddenly it was so much harder to move, feeling oh-so-very full in this new position. Chest to chest, you struggle to regain composure.

“You can do it, fuck yourself on my cock.” Lips kissing the shell of your ear, he whispers encouragement and praise. Each word caused your walls to squeeze and milk his cock for all it was worth. “Good fucking slut, you like when I’m nice to you?”

Bringing your hips up and down, you decide to answer him by increasing your pace, bouncing against his thighs, balls slapping against you harshly. Mutters of curses and grunts filled your ears, causing your clit to throb, begging for his touch. 

Grabbing one of his hands, you bring it between you, hoping he’d take the hint. “Uh-uh…you can do it yourself.” He hissed, eyes barely open as he struggled to resist the urge to fuck into you. 

Too dazed to fight back, you bring your fingers to your sensitive bud, mindlessly pinching and rolling it between your fingers. As you leant back, Toji’s hand wrapped around your waist, supporting and holding you in just the right position to allow a perfect view of you bouncing on his cock, playing with yourself so obediently. “Such a whore…” He groaned, “So cock drunk…you’d do anything to have me fuck you, hm?”

“Mmm y-yes To-oji, anything.” You nodded, words split up by each collision of your hips to his. 

“That’s right…my fucking slut.”

His? That was all you needed to feel your stomach begin to twist and turn, a sign of your orgasm. 

“Come on baby…c-cum f’me.” He groaned, head thrown back as your cunt squeezed and pulsed around his length. “So tight…such a good girl…” Toji continued to ramble, praising you through your high. 

With a final rub of your clit, you felt your legs spasm, eyes rolling back and body arching into his chest. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You screamed, biting down on Toji’s shoulder as your orgasm rippled through your body, almost completely winding you. “That’s it, you did so well doll.” He praised, kissing the side of your neck before his hands harshly gripped your hips. 

Before you could even protest, Toji was brutally slamming you down on his still fully erect dick. “T-Toji…wait! Wait!” Grabbing his wrists, you fight to pull him off of you, but its no use. The overstimulation was just as unbearable as it was pleasurable. As much as you were acting like it was too much, you couldn’t help but simultaneously push down to meet his thrusts.  

“Shut up and take it bitch, you asked for my cock, now take it.” His jaw was clenched tight, grip on your hips almost bruising as he used your overstimulated hole. “Look at me, I want to see that fucked out face of yours.” He demanded, so when you didn’t he was beyond angry. 

Releasing his grip on one of your hips, he brought his hand to your jaw, forcing you to make eye contact. “I said, look at me.” Toji’s glare was mean, so intense it made your cunt pulse and squeeze around him. 

“Fucking bitch…” He jeered, letting go of your face only to bring a sharp slap to your cheek. “Begged me to come help you, and now you’re ignoring me?”

“I-I’m so-sorry Toji.” Whimpering, you felt the tingling sensation spread across your face, warm and sharp. This almost mirrored the stinging sensation of his hips repeatedly smashing into yours, leaving your ass red from the impact.

“Keep-telling-me-how-sorry-you-are!” He groaned, each word emphasised by a thrust. 

“S-so sorry, I’m so soo sorry.” Over and over again you apologised, to the point they became mindless babbles, sandwiched between moans of his name and curses. 

Feeling his own high approaching, Toji brought his thumb to your clint, messy juices making his fingers prune. “Cum with me baby…I k-know you can!” Grunting, he applied tantalising pressure to your cunt, arousal dripping into his lap. “That's a good girl, come on.” 

As Toji egged on your oncoming arousal, so did his cock, over and over again hitting deep. Now with each thrust, he was perfectly reaching that sensitive spot, milking the lewdest of sounds from you, sounding almost incoherent as you warned him of your second orgasm. 

“Oh fuck…there she is, good fucking girl.” His own groans became more uneven as his pace lost its rhythm, sloppily bringing himself to his own high. His dick twitched and pulsed inside you, balls tensing as his orgasm washed over him, ropes of cum being fucked into you repeatedly.

“This is what you w-wanted right? To be fucked full of my cum?” Cursing, he road out his high, swallowing the sound of your overstimulated whimpers, guiding him to his end. Finally, his pace slowed to a stop, cock still plugging his warm cum inside your walls. Delicately now, his hands rubbed up your sides, caressing your skin. Silently, he pressed gentle kissed across your face and shoulders, showing his appreciation in the way he knew best. 

“Thank you, Toji.” 

[cursingtoji]

𓆩𖥟𓆪 𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐑 — Geto is a thoughtful leader who uses visual resources to help his followers learn, and tonight you get to play a part. #Cult-tober.

< Part 1 - Contradiction

— cw: religious imagery but no specific religion, exhibitionism, emotional manipulation, god complex, public nudity, fingering, unprotected, oral (f -> m), sex cult behaviour. 3k words.

— note: did my research on cults for this one, also based on this request.

“Come here” you hear his voice after calling your name, the tone gives you chills.

You know better than to fear him, this is not the first time he calls you to the main room of the temple — a place that has become the closest thing you can call a home now. This room in particular is already very known to you, so why the fear? Can’t you remember the familiar feeling of the tatami under your knees? What about against your cheek? Wasn’t worth the pain of having your face rubbing on it while your master roughly thrusted into your behind? You do recall his pitiful smile when he realized what the mat had done to the soft skin of your face, right? He kissed it so tenderly while holding you like you were made of glass, a glass he didn’t mind breaking a few minutes prior to that, but now, glass.

So what’s wrong now?

Except for the dozens of followers sitting on their knees in that same room right now. How come you never saw that many people before? And more importantly, why are you seeing them now?

A few hours ago, he left you two things along with a note with the time and place you had to be. Those things are: a sheer black lace mask, very delicate fabric meant for your eyes, the type of thing you could picture a woman using in a ball in the 1800s, and a yukata, a simple one. You thought it was weird he didn’t leave an obi — the belt to tie up the yukata, so you took one from your own drawer to complete the traditional piece.

The mask is clearly not part of it, but you know better than to question him. Besides, the note is clear, you must wear nothing but those things. Nothing.

The room you thought you knew now seems strange and gloomy, it’s nighttime so there’s only a few candles lightening it up, there’s an essence burning somewhere the smell is weak but it’s there.

Geto in all his glory sits in his altar, his feet are up in the mat, unlike everyone else sitting on their legs. He has the pose of a deity and clearly that is what everyone thinks too.

Your bare feet touch the tatami, slowly approaching the altar and feeling the dozen pairs of eyes upon you, the offsetting lighting doesn't allow you to see their faces, which is probably for the best, yet Geto’s was lit up as if the sun itself rose for him and him only.

“Look at her, when I met her she was sick, this beautiful lady had a disease. I tried to look away, she was too far gone, but what did I do instead, sweet child?”

“You saved my life” you respond without batting an eye, your mind feels cloudy.

“Kneel” you obey taking place beside him.

Maybe he is a deity after all.

Just that day you were having a conversation with the twins. They had so many questions, especially after seeing you hurt by some curse, so many why’s leaving their little mouths.

“It doesn’t matter!” your voice rose for the first time since taking them in your embrace “If Geto-sama says it’s day and the sky is dark, it’s day. If he says it’s night when you can see the sun, you go to bed because you sleep when it’s night, understood?”

Sometimes you barely recognize the voice that leaves your lips. Scolding is something you never saw yourself doing, not to the girls you loved more than anything.

In your situation one would assume this behavior is driven by fear, what would Geto do if he found out your girls were questioning his actions? They cannot possibly care more about this non-sorcerer in front of them. Never.

But those people would be wrong. Fear does make you do what you do. Love does.

Only love makes you stay put in front of him when he unties your yukata, love has you looking him in the eye even while the disapproval for the presence of the obi is evident.

Geto makes you sit facing him, his stunning image much more welcoming than the unlighted audience, he’s big enough for you to understand can still see the quiet crowd behind you. His calloused hands touch your shoulders under the yukata, the soft touch is enough to warm up your entire body as he slowly revells a skin decorated by some few bruises, some caused by curses, some caused by gods, well… one god.

“She’s still not cured, I don’t know if she’ll ever be” he doesn’t have to project his voice too much in the quiet room, the hot breathing fans over your face, “But I’ll keep trying nevertheless” he says more quietly.

Geto’s hand goes between your legs and you have trouble keeping your sounds to yourself. His hand is big, and the space between your closed legs — while you’re still sitting on them — and your core is narrow, Geto has to be a little rough to get where he wants to.

And he always gets what he wants.

Your face is warm, breathing erratically but still… you’re not panicking even given the disturbing setting. It’s all due to him, if it was anyone else you would be screaming right now, fighting your way out of this.

Geto starts to stroke your folds with his fingers while talking about sins, the best thing you can do is shut your little brain from overthinking everything he says and taking it as personal.

However, what is left to do when he keeps going on and on about undeserving ones while teasing your fluttering hole? You can’t even look him in the eye, just keep staring his throat as he speaks. Your gasp interrupts him when he inserts a finger, both your hands to your mouth, you were distracted enough to forget this was obviously the next step.

Geto snaps his eyes back to you, not glad about the interruption, yet he resumes his speech so he can go on with his plans.

Your hands remain on your closed mouth, not wanting to make the same mistake again. Geto adds another finger and starts scissoring you, which worries you slightly, you thought this was merely a play for the followers, an exhibition of power, but the stretching he’s doing indicates he plans to go all the way. That and the erection under his haori, which you should’ve led you to suspect his intentions from the beginning since he’s never presented himself to his followers without all the layers of his traditional clothing.

Geto removes his fingers, straightening his posture as he finishes his sentence, he pats his lap and you find his eyes, they are predatory, from then on you’re dealing with Geto-sama, not Suguru.

You’re already undoing the ropes that tie his haori just like he did to you a few minutes ago. He’s bare under the fabric, dick is tall and hard, the leaking tip shines under the orange glow of the candlelight as you align it with your entrance.

“If you can’t control your urges, they’ll control you” he claims, hands behind your knees, his voice is steady but the grip he has on you tells it’s hard to control himself too.

“No person or thing should control you… except for me” the last part is whispered for your ears only. You bottom out on him, needing a moment to recover, not just from the stretch on your lower half but from his words and by how willing you are to let him control you.

Especially when he puts his hand on your head, pressuring slightly guiding you to his neck. He keeps his hand there, caressing your hair as you relax on his hold, like he’s comforting someone who's just lost a dear relative, not a simple villager he spared and is now balls deep inside dozens of followers.

With a sharp pinch on your thigh Geto signs you to start moving, you arch your back and raise your hips to slide out of his cock till only the tip is left then sitting back. Since the yukata was not fully removed, it stays on you, sleeves pooling on the middle of your arms, the rest serves as a curtain, keeping the audience from viewing the junction of you and your savior.

You busy your mouth by kissing and sucking his neck, he gives your hair a discreet pull, a warning to not mark him, guess it would be bad for his reputation if his beloved sorcerers find out he’s whipped by a good-for-nothing human.

All they know — as far as Geto is concerned —, is that you’re his little pet, kind of a 3 for the price of 2 after he took in the twins, a package deal he simply had to accept.

Whatever, you don’t care about them anyways. As long as they’re treating your girls as one of their own, it doesn’t matter how they treat you. Geto, Mimiko and Nanako are all you need to be content with your life.

Geto should limit himself from touching you, his fingers shouldn’t be tracing the little marks and scratches on your back.

“You are not perfect, mistakes will happen, that’s why you need someone to guide you” he talks to the audience, his chin resting on your shoulders as the tip of his fingers run over each trauma and imperfections on your back. At this point — with his dick reaching such a sweet spot inside your walls —, you are not sure if he’s still indirectly talking to you, but something makes you think he’s talking to himself, about you.

Is it such a delusional thought? That you are the one guiding him and not the other way around? You thighs clench around him, the awkward feeling in your chest start to bring clarity to your pleasure blurred mind and you start to look around reflecting on your situation.

Geto relizes something switched in your dumb little head, you do that sometimes, look around with wide eyes and heavy breathing. Suguru remembers the days in jujutsu tech, when he was confused, consumed by the trauma and unsure about his future. Why did you make him remember that? Your chest is rising rapidly, he doesn’t want you to panic, that’s not supposed to happen under his watch.

You’re taken from his lap.

“You love me, don’t you?” Suguru holds your chin bringing your focus to him, only him. You nod slowly, admiring his sculpted face by the candlelight, “Then what are you afraid of?”

You search your mind for all the reasons to be afraid right now, shouldn’t be hard, all you need is to look around and remember why you’re here.

Yet his hazel eyes don’t allow you to find any of those reasons, somehow your heart doesn’t feel so heavy anymore.

“Don’t you trust me?” he rubs your chin and you nod again, “Show me” you blink confusingly, “Show me how much you love me.”

You’re sitting on your knees as your eyes trail down where his member is still hard, it glistens with your juices and throbs slightly, the sight is too irresistible.

So you bow to your savior, taking him fully into your mouth, the position giving the closest thing to a privacy moment, where you could pretend it’s just you and Suguru like in the late nights in his chamber.

“There you go” he sighs happily patting your head, not putting any pressure, like what you’re doing is not sexual at all.

It’s merely a form of adoration. And Geto deserves being adored.

Naturally, you take him as deep as you possibly can, focusing your best in worshiping every inch of his skin, putting as much love into it as you can, not even minding the emptiness on your lower half or how you’re dripping on the mat.

There’s a buzz in your ear, you know Geto is talking, finishing his speech probably, but you can’t actually hear him, feels like hearing someone talking from a distance.

The last thing you remember is the hot shot on the back of your throat and the member twitching in your mouth. You think you heard Geto moan, which brings a weird feeling in your stomach since, as far as you know, you’re supposed to be the only one to hear that. His thumb goes to your chin, whipping the saliva and cum, pushing you to release him, you do, but you keep kissing his soft length until the smell of him mixed with the candles and something only this room had made you black out.

Phenomenal.

A word that resumes what Geto thinks about your performance tonight. If he gave you a script it wouldn’t have played out so perfectly.

Sometimes Geto underestimates how willing you are to be controlled by him.

When everything is done, he takes you into his arms, after wrapping the Yukata back around your body, he raises to his feet and steps down from his small stage carrying you.

There’s a door behind the stage, passing the curtains, which he usually uses as entrance and exit. Yet that night he feels like walking through the audience, with a pretty little thing unconscious on his mighty arms and a bunch of loyal followers bowing on his feet he experiences being, truly, a god.

[dissapointu]

may i pretty pretty please request a healer!reader with ekko? like as the few traine medic in the hideout she's well versed in most kinds of injuries amd illnesses and ekko would just be in awe of them (lowk distractin her the fact he's wounded) but reader clocks that a mile away but plays along the bit anyways 🥺🥺🥺

(i need more love for my boy 🥺🫶🥺🫶)

healer!reader interacts with Ekko, and he tries to distract them despite being injured:

He needs more love. I agree 100%

————————————————————————

“Don’t worry, Ekko. I’ve got this.”

You said it with a steady confidence, your hands moving effortlessly over the medical supplies in front of you. You were one of the few trained medics in the hideout, and while most of the others could get by with basic first aid, you had seen your fair share of injuries—enough to know exactly what you were doing.

But of course, Ekko wasn’t making it easy. As you bandaged up his side, where a deep gash had appeared after a particularly rough skirmish, you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes kept flicking to your hands, the way he’d casually nudge his body closer to yours despite you having plenty of space. He was clearly trying to distract you.

“So, uh… you’re, like, really good at this,” Ekko said, his voice uncharacteristically light and teasing. His tone carried that playful edge that always seemed to slip in when he was trying to sidestep something.

You glanced at him, arching an eyebrow as you continued working. “I’m not new to this, Ekko. You’re not the first person I’ve patched up.”

His lips curled into a small grin, and he shifted on the table, deliberately stretching his arms out as though to demonstrate how ‘comfortable’ he was. “Yeah, but you make it look so easy. Like… it’s just natural for you, huh?”

You barely suppressed a smirk. “Well, it’s my job, Ekko. It’s what I do.”

But you knew the game he was playing. The way his eyes lingered on you, the way he made small talk when you were trying to focus—he was stalling, trying to make this moment last longer. His usual bravado was gone, replaced by a vulnerability he didn’t often show.

“I mean, you are amazing at this,” he continued, leaning back a little and looking up at the ceiling with a somewhat exaggerated sigh. “Like, not only are you super smart and capable, but you’ve got the whole… healer vibe. You know? Very soothing.”

You paused, your hands on the bandages, and narrowed your eyes. “Are you really trying to distract me right now, Ekko?”

His face turned a shade of red that you had to suppress a chuckle at. “What? No! I just… I’m just… you know… appreciating how good you are at this. It’s impressive.”

You smirked, catching his playful, slightly flustered expression. “Yeah, well, I can’t finish until I make sure this is all done right.” You applied a final wrap to his injury, pressing gently and ensuring everything was secure before giving him a pointed look. “Now, stop trying to distract me and let me finish.”

Ekko leaned in closer, his gaze softening despite the playful tone he’d been trying to keep up. “You know, I think I could just lie here all day if it meant I get to listen to you talk,” he admitted quietly, his earlier teasing tone slipping away.

You chuckled, carefully adjusting the bandages and checking for any signs of further injury. “You’re lucky I care about you, Ekko. Otherwise, I might just leave you here to suffer through your own flustered rambling.”

Ekko raised an eyebrow, leaning into your touch as you finished. “Hey, I’m not rambling. I’m just… appreciating the person who’s keeping me from bleeding out, that’s all.”

You met his gaze, your fingers brushing against his skin as you applied the final layer of bandages, ensuring his wound was properly treated. “Well, if you keep distracting me like this, I might start charging you extra for the therapy session.”

He chuckled, the familiar mischievous gleam returning to his eyes. “Guess I’ll just have to keep distracting you, then. Can’t let you have all the fun.”

As you finished the last few touches, you stepped back, looking at him with a small smile. “All done. You’re lucky I’m here, you know?”

Ekko sat up, his movements now much more fluid than they had been before. He gave you a genuine, soft smile that made your heart skip a beat. “I’m the lucky one, (Y/N). Thanks.”

And for a moment, despite his usual cocky charm, you could see it in his eyes: the deep admiration, the unspoken gratitude, the way he truly felt safe in your hands.

I hope this gave you the fluff and love for Ekko you were craving! 🫶💖

[nicksolemnlyswears]

WELCOME HOME

MASTERLIST

pairing: opla!mihawk x reader

word count: 3.2k

warnings: 18+, swearing, smut, slight knife play, oral (female receiving), p in v, slight breeding kink

a/n: i got carried away with the fluff at the end. as much as i love smut i also love some domestic ass fluff which is very clear here lol.

i started this a while ago but got busy and only managed to finish it today! next up i’ve got buggy. i actually have two ideas for him. both have smut but the premise is so different lol. let’s just say one has a prominent daddy kink.

this might be very ooc! mihawk, again i’ve only watched the live action. i would like to start the anime but those 1,000 episodes are intimidating to say the least.

Working for the Marines proved to be useful for Mihawk. His bounty was canceled, and he got to travel and get up to shenanigans that would otherwise bring him trouble.

Mihawk gets to strike pirate after pirate, which benefits him greatly. It gives him the opportunity to search for the one meant to surpass him while getting paid. No one has come close to beating him yet.

After another tedious mission, Mihawk returns home. He opens the grand doors of his castle and leaves his hat and coat by the door. He silently goes deep into the castle and into his bedroom, unhooking Yoru from his back and placing it by the bed.

He removes his boots and pants while keeping his eyes on the figure sprawled on the bed. His dear wife sleeps peacefully on her stomach, her hair casting a halo on the white pillows.

He tries his hardest not to wake you, but you groggily open your eyes as he lays on the bed. He stares back at you apologetically, kissing the back of your head.

"You're back," you sigh, closing your eyes again. Your muscles relax when you see it's your husband who has returned from his latest mission.

Normally, you'd greet him much more enthusiastically. However, the sky outside is still a deep shade of blue, the stars twinkling brightly to shine some light on the otherwise dark room. And you have had a long, exhausting day that is pulling you back to sleep.

"Just got back," he responds softly. His eyes trace over your exposed figure. It's a warm summer night if the sheets crumpled by the end of the bed are any indication.

He was away longer than he expected. It's times like these that he resents his agreement with the Marines. He will resent anything that keeps you away from him. He would take you with him if your circumstances were different, but it's too dangerous. 

You suddenly feel his touch on your back, but pay him no mind as sleep threatens to take you away once more. Mihawk traces your exposed skin with his small blade Kogatana. He likes seeing two of his priced possessions in his grasp.

He'd never dare cut you with it. That's reserved for his enemies. Enemies who would be scared by the mere sight of Mihawk, but you simply melt under his gaze without a worry in the world. The touch of the cold blade familiar and comforting.

"Don't you dare cut through my clothes again, Mihawk," you suddenly threaten when he glides the blade over your night dress. You might be safe from the sharpness of his blades, but your clothes never are.

"Or what?" he asks, lifting your silky nightgown with the blade. Just a bit more tension, and it will cut through the fabric. There's an unmistakable smile on his handsome face.

"Fuck around and find out," you groan, looking at him with furrowed eyebrows. Deep down, you know you're not getting any rest anytime soon. Mihawk is clearly in a particular mood.

"Is this how you receive me? With empty threats?" Mihawk teases you. He follows it with a "Tsk, I expected more from you."

"My love, it's four in the morning. My brain isn't working properly, but rest assured it'll come up with something by morning," you huff, burying your face on the pillow.

"I'm dying to find out what you come up with. In the meantime, I'll fuck around." Mihawk says with a tone that warns you he's up to no good.

In an instant, you hear the blade ripping through the material of your nightgown. The cut is clean and precise, exposing your skin to the room's humid air.

"Mihawk!" You groan, annoyed but far from surprised. Another piece of clothing ruined by Kogatana. Add it to the tally.

"Screaming my name already? I've barely touched you," Mihawk chuckles, amused at his joke. He traces his lips down your spine, pressing kisses along the curve of your back.

"Idiot…" you mumble with a small grin. You prop yourself up on your elbows, still on your stomach, looking at your husband over your shoulder.

"All yours, darling," he responds cheekily, biting down on your exposed ass cheek.

"Hey!" You giggle, wiggling under his hold. Mihawk pins you down with his body as he comes back up.

Mihawk brushes your hair over one of your shoulders to dig his head into the crook of your neck, kissing your pulse point. You smile at this, having missed his touch like the familiar scrape of his beard on your skin.

Mihawk gives you enough space to turn around in his grasp. You cup his face and say, "I missed you. A few more days and I would've gone out in search of you." Your thumbs mindlessly rub over his jaw. No matter how much he cuts through your clothes, you love him.

Your actions bring him comfort as he leans into your touch, "My apologies. Will you allow me to make it up to you?"

You pretend to think as he stares you down. His gaze is soft and loving and filled with playfulness. Playfulness that is reserved only for you. "It's the least you can do," you finally respond, touching his lips.

Mihawk closes the gap in an instant, kissing you senseless. He groans into the kiss as he deepens it, his tongue swiping your lips to gain entrance. He grabs your thigh, wrapping it around his waist to have you closer.

Your arms wrap around his back, scratching his skin with your nails as you pull yourself closer. Mihawk's hand comes up to your chest, pulling on the tattered fabric of your nightgown, successfully throwing it somewhere in the room.

"Don't forget you owe me another nightgown," you breathe as Mihawk kisses down your body.

"And a blouse, a skirt, a dress, and many the undergarments. But who is keeping track?" Mihawk says. He's settled between your thighs, placing open-mouthed kisses down your soft stomach.

You prop yourself up to watch him delve lower and lower down your body. He searches for your gaze when he reaches your mound, where he places a small kiss. "I'd much prefer you sleep naked. We can sleep skin to skin."

You smile and shake your head at him, biting your lip in anticipation. "What of the nights you're gone?" You ask, raising an eyebrow.

Mihawk's strong hands grasp your thighs, pulling them open. Maintaining eye contact, he traces his lips over the inside of your thighs, not quite kissing them. His facial hair tickles you and leaves goosebumps in its wake.

Not one to lose an argument, he responds, "More of a reason to stay naked. Makes it easier to touch yourself while you think of me," he purrs. You feel his breath where you need him most.

As you open your mouth to reply with a snarky comment, Mihawk takes his chance. His tongue licks up your slit, tasting you for the first time in weeks.

"Ohh."

Mihawk eats you out like a starved man lost at sea for months. His tongue licks and flicks over your clit repeatedly as his lips wrap around it to suck. You fall back on the bed with your fingers digging into his curls, pulling on them. It only spurs him on as his hips involuntarily thrust into the mattress. Pleasing you turns him on.

"I missed this cunt," he lewdly moans as he kisses the inside of your thigh, lightly biting the area.

"Mihawk," you whine, turning red-faced by his crude words.

He mimics your tone, saying your name. Your ankle digs into his back in response. He's far from hurt as he laughs into your thigh. Having had a taste, he slows it down, taking his time. Enjoying everything about you.

He spreads your lips apart, exposing your pink center to him. Strings of arousal cover you, giving your cunt a pretty sheen. You're easily embarrassed by Mihawk's actions, but your whines do nothing to stop him.

"Fucking beautiful," he purrs, thumb circling over your exposed clit.

Your fingers card through his curls, pulling them back to watch his lustful expression. No one has ever made you feel as desired as Mihawk has.

Soft breaths fall from you as you feel Mihawk's warm tongue gather the slick from your entrance. He gets lost in his pleasure as his fingers dig into your thighs. Obscene wet noises coming from his mouth, mixing with the staccato of your moans.

Each flick of his tongue gets you higher and higher, your tummy tensing under the weight of the pleasure. You whine as you get closer to your peak, small warnings Mihawk doesn't need as he's learned what each of your tells are. He's adamant about making you cum on his tongue.

It's a matter of time until he feels your legs squeezing his head and your hips bucking into him. Your back arching follows soon after as a loud cry escapes your lips.

Mihawk licks his lips, satisfied, as he pulls slightly away from you. The twitching of your cunt is not missed by his hawk eyes. He presses his palm against your center, easing you down from your high.

He crawls back up your body, kissing your nipples on his way up. You swat him away gently, feeling sensitive.

"My beautiful wife," he says once he's face to face. In his eyes, you're the most beautiful woman in the world. Your skin shines prettily with the afterglow of an orgasm.

"What's gotten into you?" You giggle, giving him exactly what he was looking for. Your smile.

"Can't a man miss his wife?" He asks, nudging your cheek with his nose as he sporadically leaves kisses on your face.

He did miss you, but he's also extremely pussydrunk. Going down on you does as much to him as it does to you, judging by the hard on pressing against your lower stomach.

"He can..." You smile, wrapping your arms around him to caress his back. "Just how much did you miss me?"

You feel his laugh in your ear as he catches your suggestive tone. Nonetheless, he whispers, "I missed you like the sun and moon miss each other."

"You're cheesy," you say, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him flush against you. His cock is between the two of you, a bead of pre dripping onto your skin.

"Don't tell anyone. Or else my reputation be ruined." Mihawk says, pressing his forehead against yours.

"It's our secret," you whisper in response with a kiss on his waiting lips.

Hiking your leg further up his body Mihawk lines himself up and pushes his cock into you. You gasp into the kiss as he fills you up until he bottoms out.

He always starts slow. The drag of your walls against his cock is a memory he never wishes to forget. He swears your cunt feels better each time he has the pleasure of being buried inside you.

His thrusts are slow but deep. He keeps a hand on your leg that's hiked up around his waist while he holds himself up with the other. The way you look up at him with wide, pleading eyes is his favorite sight in the whole wide world. Your soft gasps and cries are a symphony of their own, especially mixed with his own.

His slower pace only lasts so long as he gets lost in the way your cunt chokes his cock. He wants more. He needs more.

His resolve quickly disappears as he picks himself up to kneel on the bed. He easily pulls you closer as you slide down the bed with a yelp. His cock always inside of you.

Mihawk presses your legs up to your chest, grabbing a discarded pillow to place under your ass.

"Much better," he mutters as his hips buck against you tentatively.

"Yeah, 'cause you're not the one folded in half," you begin saying as he snaps his hips, which turns into a moan. The new angle brings tears to your eyes. The tip of his cock hitting that spot that makes you see stars.

"Don't deny it. You like when I manhandle you," he gruffs, picking up the pace of his thrusts. He further presses against the back of your thighs as he looks down when you both meet. His cock wet with both of your juices.

"I'm. Not." You pant between each one of his jerks. You leave it at that, closing your eyes to focus on the sparks of pleasure.

This is Mihawk's favorite position just because of the visual standpoint. He's in total control and gets to gauge your body's reactions.

Your scrunched up eyes as you concentrate on following your release. The biting of your lips to try and remain quiet, yet whimpers betray you. Your chest bouncing pulls him into another trance as he watches your skin blushing and your nipples hardening.

Your eyes squint open as you bring your hand down to your lower abdomen, where you say, "Feel you right here, Mihawk."

Mihawk mutters a curse under his breath. He places his hand on top of yours and asks, "Want me to cum right here too, darling?"

His moves become sharper and more precise as he bullies that spot inside you. "yes. yes. yes. Fill me up, my love," you cry out.

It's all becoming too much for you. You bring your arm up to bite on it and muffle your moans, but he still manages to coax out your voice. Your moans remain a secret in the night, heard only by Mihawk.

It's fucking glorious the way your cunt squeezes his cock when you reach your climax. The rhythmic pulses of your high urging him to continue pushing into you. You try to push him away to get him to go slower, your hands only managing to caress his abdomen before he pins them down.

He is in total control. He just needs a bit more from you. You can take it. You've done it before. Your legs shake both in exhaustion and rapture. His pace is steady as he feeds into that feeling that tightens his balls.

His hands turn to lace his fingers through yours. The sound of skin slapping echoed through the room. With hooded eyes, you watch your husband in all his glory. Trickles of sweat fall down his strong chest, and his curls are a mess atop his head. It all makes him look like a work of art.

Once more, the familiar sensation of pure euphoria washes over you, and it's enough to push Mihawk to reach that place as well. He stills inside you, his hands squeezing yours as he empties himself inside you, just like he promised.

With your hands on his hold, he brings them to his lips to kiss your palms. He follows the path down your arm until he buries his head on your shoulder. He lies there, almost crushing you under his weight, breathing you in. You wrap your arms around him, enjoying the closeness and rubbing your hands up and down his muscular back, rubbing the spots with the most tension from carrying Yoru around.

You talk in hushed whispers as you gain back your energy. It's a hard task, considering you were woken up in the middle of the night, and Mihawk probably hasn't slept in more than 24 hours.

Hours later, you feel the hard patter of footsteps nearing your bedroom. You sit up, preparing yourself despite Mihawk's heavy arm threatening to pull you back down into his embrace.

The door to your bedroom is slammed open with a bang barely second after you manage to slip on your robe.

"Wake up, wake up, it's morning!" Your loud, curly-haired boys scream as they run around the room with wooden swords.

"What's all this ruckus about?" Mihawk groans. Both boys freeze, noticing the other figure sitting up on the bed, "Papa!"

"There are my brats," Mihawk huffs as they let the swords clatter to the ground to climb the bed and throw themselves at him, "I missed the two of you," he says, hugging them and kissing their heads.

You stare lovingly at the scene in front of you. The twins were a result of your honeymoon with Mihawk. Fruits of your love, if you will.

The five-year-olds are the spitting image of their father. Kind reminders of him whenever Mihawk has to go out on a mission.

"Missed you too, Papa."

"I want some snuggles, too!" You exclaim, grabbing the twin closest to you and placing him on your lap to kiss and snuggle. He squirms and laughs as you tickle his belly.

The twins celebrate their dad's back as they cling and climb over him. You let them do as they please, considering it has been you who they've clung to for the past couple of weeks.

"Mama is sick," one of them blurts out to Mihawk, causing you to freeze.

"Mhm, Mama called the doctor to make her better!" The other echoes as you pull him to your lap to shush him.

Mihawk narrows his eyes at you as he listens to the twins ramble. You throw him a sheepish smile and quickly look down at your son, brushing his unruly curls to avoid his gaze.

"Well, Papa is home now. I'll take good care of Mama," Mihawk reassures them. "Why don't the two of you go to the kitchen and gather the ingredients for your favorite?'

"Really?" They ask in unison with excited smiles.

"Absolutely," Mihawk says just as excited, ushering the boys out of the room. As soon as they run out, he turns to you with a raised eyebrow, "Not that I'm a doctor, but you didn't seem sick a while ago."

"I didn't?" You ask incredulously, standing from the bed to sit on the vanity.

Mihawk follows you, knowing you're trying to avoid the conversation. He calls your name, kneeling down on the floor by your seat. "Why did you call the doctor?"

You sigh, mustering the courage to tell him the news. You face him as he settles between your legs. He grabs your hand and places a kiss on the back of it, giving you the courage to tell him.

"We're having another baby," you smile at him, squeezing his hand.

"You're happy?" Mihawk is ecstatic, to say the least, but he recognizes how hard your pregnancy with the twins had been. So, he toned it down for the moment.

"I'm happy," you nod, allowing him the joy of having another kid. It's been six years, and you're ready for another baby. Besides, the boys are growing up so fast that they aren't babies anymore.

Mihawk hugs you from his kneeling position, digging his head into your stomach, "You think we'll have a girl?"

"I have my fingers crossed. There's too much testosterone in this castle. One thing is for sure though, it's the last one," you tell him, kissing his head.

"Come on, darling. We have more space for two or three more..."

You roll your eyes at him and gently push him away, reminding him he has two hyperactive boys downstairs waiting for him.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Not A Verstappen: Lights Out {5}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: The most anticipated race of the year is here, and the most controversial, Las Vegas GP. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, fluff, angst, injury WC: 3.5k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten NAV: Lights Out One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six

Round Twenty Two - Las Vegas

Kristian sat on a weight bench, flipping through the pages of the motherhood magazine he was reading. Every so often he would look up and give some guidance until the tips became a nuisance.

“I should have fired you,” you muttered as you rose up from the last lunge.

“You say that a lot but you should keep your back straight,” he shot back, grating you further with the slow scrape of the page turning. “And keep your feet in line with your hips.”

“Can we play some decent music at least?” you whined between the gulps of water you swallowed down. The training was far less intensive than they used to be with everything focused on just maintaining fitness and health rather than a goal weight or strength like before.

“Nope,” he chuckled, clearly enjoying being able to boss you around the gym again. “Baroque is good for the baby.”

“Bullshit.” There was no way the classical music meant anything to her, she was only the size of an avocado - or so Lando said. He had an app that he checked daily and uploaded photos onto as a keepsake. 

Kristian turned back to the start of the magazine and turned it around, tapping the title of the article. “So you think you know more than Harvard scholars now, Spitfire?”

He took your silence for defeat and pointed to the pool door. “Twenty lap cool down and then it’s breakfast.”

Your stomach grumbled at the mention of food and you grabbed a towel as you passed the door to the changing room. Breakfast didn’t feel like the right term since it was well past lunchtime. The whole Las Vegas schedule had screwed your body clock with the late night practices and qualifying rounds but you were grateful it was the last night of it. 

Lando and Charles had been fast asleep when you slipped out of the room. Something had disturbed you from the dream you were having and despite the room being pitch black with the thick blockout curtains your body could tell it was daytime. Thankfully Kristian was already awake and happy to move your fitness session up a few hours. 

Cool water washed over you as you dove into the tepid pool and started to glide along the surface. One, two, three, breathe. One, two, three, breathe. The monotony was therapeutic and you didn’t even bother to keep count of the laps - your mind was elsewhere.

You had been dead on your feet in the wee hours of the morning after you finally left the track with Lando and Charles after qualifying finished. They still had adrenaline flooding their systems and had no hope of sleeping when they sunk into the couch cushions and pulled your exhausted body over their legs. 

You were in a drowsy state, half asleep but half aware of the other two chatting quietly together. Their hands had softly caressed your skin, brushing your shirt up so they could feel the warmth of your abdomen beneath their palms. 

“She’s so beautiful, Cha, and she’s carrying our kid. I don’t think I have ever been this happy in my life,” Lando hummed as he rested his head on Charles’ shoulder and smiled at their hands. 

“We are very lucky to have her,” he agreed as he kissed Lando softly.

“So…” You tasted the mischief in Lando’s drawn out tone and it stirred some energy back into your body. “When can I start calling you daddy?”

Charles’ legs shifted beneath you with a groan and you willed your eyes to open as his cheeks flushed pink. “Mon cher...”

“You can call me papi chulo,” Lando smirked. “It means-”

“I know what it means,” Charles choked, knowing exactly who had taught him that too. “Carlos is a menace, but if anyone is going to be papi chulo it’s me.”  

You nearly swallowed a mouthful of water as the memory of what had happened next led to a lapse in your count and you pulled yourself out of the pool with a splutter. Those two had a lot to answer for.

“Here,” Kristian said as he tossed a bottle of water to you. “Try not to drink from the pool.”

“What would I do without you?” you asked dryly. 

“I don’t dare to think about that,” he joked before he said your favourite words. “Let’s go eat.”

You stared at the egg on your plate before pushing it away with disinterest. Charles looked up from his own plate and frowned at the rare sight of the food that remained on yours. 

“Would you like something else, mamie?”

You smiled at the new endearment and watched Lando cut an avocado in half before passing one part over to you. The vibrant green flesh did look delicious but when you held it in your hand you could only think about the bump that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. You hadn’t noticed it before changing into your swimsuit but when you peeled the tight layer off in the gym's changing room you had frozen. The mirrored wall caught your side profile under glaring fluorescent lights and there, just below your belly button it swelled ever so slightly. 

A hand waved in front of your face and you broke away from the memory to see both your boyfriends watching you with worried frowns. One of them had obviously spoken to you but you couldn’t recall hearing them as you stared at the avocado. 

“You’re crying,” Lando murmured as he swiped away the tear on your cheek. “What’s wrong?”

“She’s this big already. Our baby is the size of an avocado. She’s so tiny,” you said with a small laugh, raising the fruit higher for inspection. They looked at you like you were a little crazy and it wouldn’t have been the first time that was suspected but you pushed the chair out and placed the avocado back on the table. “Come, I want to show you something.”

You led them to the bedroom and Charles opened his mouth to break the bad news that they didn’t have time for even a quickie. The thought had crossed your mind when you found them still naked and splayed across the bed before breakfast was ready, but they needed to get to the track soon for media duties and to prepare for the race. 

“That’s a shame but also not what I came here for,” you admitted as you started to remove your shirt. 

“I’m getting mixed messages here,” Lando chuckled as he reached for his own shirt. “But I don’t mind being late.”

“Stop, before I really do make you stay,” you chuckled knowing they would do anything for you. You dropped your shirt and turned sideways while you stared at the reflection in the mirror. “Look…”

Their eyes followed the wave of your hand, the way your palm drifted over your hip to cradle the small bump, and Lando gasped along with Charles soft praise. Knees hit the soft carpet below your feet and warm lips replaced your hand, teasing your skin with kisses. Two heads of dark hair bowed against your stomach and whispered words of promise you couldn’t quite hear, but they weren’t for your ears. Finally they looked up, emerald and azure eyes filled with enough love that you were certain your chest was going to crack open.

You reached for their cheeks and felt the same dampness that coated yours. “She’s real,” you whispered. It had taken a few weeks but finally it all felt real. She wasn’t just a picture on a piece of paper or measurements of a hormone in a blood test. She was real, and she was yours.

“You look like a twat,” you greeted Max with a grin, flapping the collar of his race suit made to replicate Elvis Presley. “You’re just missing the blue suede shoes.”

Max rolled his eyes and ducked his head when you tried to mess his gelled hair up. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.”

“Oh I am,” you laughed, slipping back into Charles’ side. “I’m actually happy to sit out this circus act.”

Max narrowed his eyes as he scanned your face for a lie or bitterness but all he saw was a bright smile and genuine amusement sparkling in your eyes. A sense of relief washed over him as for the first time since losing your seat you looked completely content and happy.

“I don’t blame you,” he finally replied and looked down at the costume he had been given. He would be glad when all this was over too. “I’ll see you at Omnia?”

The sun had already set on the strip and the temperature was quickly dropping as the hour grew late, and closer to the start of the race. “Maybe, if it’s a boring race I might not even be awake to see the end of it.”

“Fair enough.” He hoped you would be there to celebrate whatever the results were but he knew you were more exhausted in your current state and wouldn’t hold it against you. Christian waved at Max from across the street that divided the hospitality area from the garages and he gave you a quick hug, clapping Charles in the shoulder as he passed. “The Ring Master calls.”

“Drive safe!” He threw a thumbs up over his shoulder in answer and you laced your fingers with Charles’ before continuing to the McLaren garage.

It was strangely quiet for a race that had been hyped up so much over the last year, but you were kind of relieved that there were less people to weave between. It was great that the sport was growing in popularity but it was a pain in the ass trying to get anywhere when you are squashed like sardines in the paddock.

Somehow you still managed to bump into someone.

“Shit, sorry, Logan.”

“That was my bad,” he apologised as he turned to face the direction he was walking, waving back to the fan who had stopped him. His eyes widened when he saw who he had collided with and regret painted on his face. “Shit, are you alright? I didn’t hurt you, did I, or the, um…” he waved a hand to your stomach and you tilted your head wondering who had told him.

“I’m fine, but you knew?”

Logan scratched the back of his neck nervously and shrugged. “The walls were thin in the medical centre.”

You were dumbfounded and the sound that bubbled from your chest confirmed it. “Huh.”

“I haven’t told anyone, and I won’t,” he promised before his name was called and he waved to his PT. “Oh, congratulations though, I probably should have started with that.”

Charles laughed and shook the American’s hand. “Thanks, mate.”

You smiled and accepted the half hug he offered, probably thinking a handshake would be even more awkward. “Thanks, and congrats on your first point too.”

“Not as exciting as a baby.”

“Yeah it is,” you laughed, remembering your first point for Alpha Tauri. “That’s your baby right now.”

His smile grew as he set off to his PT and you carried on your way to see Lando before the race. There was still over an hour until lights out but every minute had been scheduled for media duties, meet and greets, and the driver parade. You wanted to have a few moments of their time before releasing them to the wild.

Charles’ hand slipped from yours as you reached McLaren and he cradled your cheek before kissing you. “Are you alright to get back on your own?”

You rolled your eyes before looking at the Ferrari space four garages down. “I don’t know, it’s pretty far…I might get lost and end up in the Bellagio.”

“If you do, bet it all on Red for me,” he joked. The smile on his face dimmed as he saw the magician and Carlos waiting for him. “I’ll see you after the race, mamie. Je t’aime.”

“Love you too.”

“And Lando too.” He would have preferred to tell Lando himself but he just ran out of time with all the activities his team had planned for race day.

“I’ll let him know, and I’ll even give him a kiss from you,” you teased as you stole another kiss for good measure.

“Any advice from the current world champion?” he asked as he started to back away.

You shook your head. “It’s Vegas, baby, just give them one hell of a show.”

To say the atmosphere in Ferrari was charged was an understatement. There was resentment for Carlos’ car being destroyed and his mechanics gritted their teeth as they walked to the middle of the grid thanks to the penalties for fixing the car. On the other side of the garage, the side where you sat with Joris, excitement permeated the air as you watched Charles’ walk to his car parked in pole position.

You were torn between that excitement and the sadness that had followed you since leaving McLaren. Lando was being too hard on himself again for the bad luck he had qualifying 15th, but he was determined to make his way to the front of the pack. If anyone was going to be called Spitfire in the race, it was going to be him. He was going to dogfight his way forward from the moment the lights went out.

One of the cameras panned the crowd and you spotted him walking up from his spot three quarters of the way down the grid, all the way to the front where Charles was talking to Max. For a moment you were once again hit with the sense of longing to be out there but the feeling washed away as quick as it came.

“Do you want anything to eat?” Joris asked as he looked up from his phone. You chuckled knowing Charles would have sent the reminder text but you shook your head. 

“I’m fine, thank you. And you can tell Charles I am keeping hydrated too,” you said with a smile, shaking your water bottle for him to see. 

“You can always trust him to worry more about others, even when he’s meant to be focusing on the race,” he laughed as he sent the reply. “Have you thought any more about where you want to go for the maternity shoot?”

Charles had been eager to lock his friend in as the official bump photographer but there was still another four months until it was the best time to have them taken. He was also open to taking photos while you were in labour but you weren't too sure how you felt about that yet.

“Somewhere warm.”

“So no alpine backdrops then,” he chuckled, probably remembering how much you had complained about hiking in the snow last winter.

You scoffed at the idea, an adamant refusal to it. “Not if you’re expecting me to wear something that shows the bump.”

The action around the garages stilled as the guests on the grid were guided away for the formation lap to begin and you breathed a sigh of relief when Charles made it back to the first box without drama. Even Joris released a nervous laugh beside you. 

“That’s a better start,” he murmured so the engineers around him didn’t hear. 

“Couldn’t get any worse than the last one,” you replied just as quietly. 

You held your breath and felt the same rush of adrenalin fill you as if you were right out there in front of the lights with them. Your fingers twitched at your sides, the muscle memory begging them to prepare for action as each red light appeared, then all five were gone. The keen whines of twenty engines accelerating to their limit screamed into the night and you grinned at the sound even though it was muted by the headset. 

“Oh, fuck off, Max,” you screamed as he pushed Charles wide and they both went off track before pulling back on with your brother taking the lead. Suddenly your attention was brought to the back of the pack where multiple cars had been involved in an incident, but Lando had managed to avoid it and slip ahead a few places too. “Come on, baby, you can do it.”

Although there had been a lot of complaints about the showy nature of racing in Las Vegas, there was no denying it was a track that offered a lot of entertainment with long straights to overtake and high risk high reward corners too. You could barely sit still with your eyes glued to the many screens around the garage offering almost every angle of the race. 

“Ok, I think this race has just redeemed itself,” you commented with a smile as you watched the battles taking place around the track. 

“It is pretty amazing,” Joris said with his own excited grin, but shock fell over him and you snapped your head back to screen dreading seeing Charles out of the race again. But it wasn’t Charles. 

Sparks flew as the floor hit the asphalt and your brain couldn’t seem to understand why Lando’s car was facing the wrong way. Still it kept skidding along the straight at full speed, spinning back around just before it collided with the barrier at the end of the runoff. Your breath left your lungs with the force of the collision and your entire body stiffened as your ears began to ring loudly. Your stomach lurched as you desperately hit the keys on the screen to select the driver view and you saw Lando’s shaking hands pull his steering console out.

“I, I need to go,” you whispered as you stood up on weak legs. “Can you tell Charles?”

“Xavi can do that, I’ll walk with you,” he said with a shake of his head. His arm looped with yours and stabilised you as you tried to rush out of the garage. They weren’t even stopping the race because he wasn’t on track and that made you feel even sicker. What if someone else went into the runoff? 

“Mr Norris,” Joris called out, waving the worried man down. You blinked as you realised you were already in the McLaren garage, but you couldn’t remember the walk there. 

“He’s alright,” Adam assured you as he pulled you into his side and thanked Joris for the escort. “I spoke to him after he got out of the car. They are going to the medical centre. Come on, darling, we can go together.”

“He’s alright?” you double checked, your vision blurring with tears. 

Adam gave a sure nod as he started back the way you came, except he went towards the medical centre instead of the other garages. “His ribs hurt but he’s tough.”

Max said that when he was a child he would sleep walk, Vicki too. You imagined this was how they felt. Detached. Moving through darkness. Closing your eyes and waking in a new place. You blinked and the concrete path you were on was suddenly linoleum. 

“Lando…” you sighed as you found him on a gurney, white blankets tucked in close around him. 

“Heeeey,” he slurred happily, wincing as he snaked a hand out of his swaddle to reach for you. “It’s my girls.”

“You’re on the strong stuff, aren’t you, my love?” You faked a smile for him and took his hand, tilting your head towards Adam and the doctor explaining what was happening. You carefully leaned over the bed and kissed Lando until he broke out in giggles and his head lolled lazily back against the pillow. 

“They’re taking him to the hospital for some scans just in case there’s any broken ribs,” Adam relayed when he reached your side and gave Lando a kiss on his forehead. “How are you feeling, son?”

“It hurts to breathe, but this is good,” he said, holding up his hand that was connected to the IV bag filled with strong painkillers. 

A nurse came and unlocked the wheels on the gurney before asking who was going to ride in the ambulance with Lando. Adam looked at you and nodded, and though you knew he would have wanted to go with his son himself you were selfish and couldn’t leave his side. 

“I’ll follow behind,” Adam promised before Lando was wheeled away. 

You walked at Lando’s side out of the medical centre and found tv crews waiting, their cameras zoomed in on Lando and capturing his almost drunken state. A little loopy from the drugs in his system, he waved his fingers at the camera. “This will be on Netflix next year,” he laughed before wincing at the pain that flared. “So it’s safe to tell them, ���I’M GOING TO BE A FATHER!’ and they can’t say a thing.”

Adam froze at his son’s outburst, though it was no secret that he was eager to shout to the world his joy. “Lando…” he growled, looking at your wide eyes.

“What? They aren’t allowed to use the footage for months,” he huffed. 

“That’s not Netflix,” you whispered, swallowing the lump in your throat as you watched the tv crew almost tremble with excitement. “That’s Sky TV.”

Click here for the next part.

[towriteloveontheirarms]

Sensitive (Halsin Silverbough x Reader)

synopsis: For what feels like in forever the party stays in an inn, yet the proper bed also comes with a very fidgety lover. So what else are you supposed to do other than to help him fall asleep?

warnings: teasing, kinda ruined orgasm, smut, p in v, afab reader

word count: 1k

taglist: @hopelesswritergall @foxyanon

(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

Dividers by me

After years of being together, you thought it was safe to assume you know your partner. His body at least. Yet that was entirely untrue. There was still always more to explore.

“My apologies, I only meant to check in on you. I never meant to disturb you.” Halsins soft voice sounds through the room you used to bathe in. You are just wrapping a towel around yourself as he approaches.

“I believe you are incapable of ever disturbing me, in truth.” You reply in a tone that is only reserved for him in its gentleness.

“Oh, but I have. You were taking a moment to unwind, something you have not done in far too long.” He insists until you finally lay your hands on his chest to shut him up.

“Halsin, are you watching me?” You ask with a smirk. “And what of you? When have you last allowed yourself a moment of respite?”

He shuffles his feet and adverts his eyes from yours.

“You have been looking out for everyone for far too long now. We have a real bed to sleep in tonight. Let us make the most of it.”

It has been gods know how long since you had slept or even simply laid in a real bed. Thinking about it now, you couldn't even properly remember the last time and laying down together promised a night full of wonderful, refreshing sleep without any back or joint pain in the morning.

Hadn't there been your lover's restlessness. Halsin did his best to hide the notion, but you knew him better than that. It was clearly visible in the way he carried himself, in his mimic, the very core of his being almost. So, what were you supposed to do. After hours of him tossing and turning, but to distract him, any way you could. Only to, in the end, straddle him to give him a relaxing massage. Small hands kneading taut muscles in a last-ditch effort to get him to calm enough to fall asleep.

Said massage then soon devolved into Halsin pressing you into the worn mattress, fingers intertwined and his hips grinding against yours as he left hot, wet kisses all over your neck.

You writhe and grind against his large form. Searching to get, but also bring, more pleasure. Halsin’s hands leave your wrists, to run down your arms over your breasts and sides, down to guide your movements by your hips.

Free to touch the druid as you please, your own hands caress his muscular chest feeling the surprisingly soft skin and coarse hair, holding onto his strong biceps for a moment and then cupping his cheeks sharing in the warmth of his eyes and the moment. However, they don't rest there for long as the tips of your fingers find the shell of his ears, tracing them with feather light caresses. It wasn´t new to either of you that Halsin had quite sensitive ears, yet the full extent of it would only be revealed at this moment. Upon touch, a half growl half gasp leaves his lungs that turns into a whine just as fast, his eyes falling half close. There are only traces left of the hot and heavy tension from just moments before, both of you pretty taken back by what has just happened. 

Being the first to get a grasp on the situation, you use the moment surprise to flip the two of you around. It never failed to amaze how easily Halsin’s massive frame would mold into the position you wanted him in these moments. The two of you share a long-lasting look, when you finally brush your thumb over the tip of his ear again. This time intentionally, elongating the motion to trace the long shell of his ear. The gray outer ring on his pretty eyes sparkles up the hazel inner ring darkening with need as his eyelids flutter shut. Alternating brushing your fingers against his ear and carding them through his hair, you gently pinch his earlobe and watch his hips roll forward involuntarily, as if they had developed a mind of their own.

The druid's hips press up into yours, desperately searching for friction against your heated centre.

You take in his every shuddering breath and the way his mouth forms around the words when he tells you he loves you. If you weren´t before, the sounds that leave his lips as you continue to tease his ears get you obsessed with seeing him like this. Splayed out underneath you, writhing in enjoyment as you bring him closer to the edge of his sanity. That is when your clothes carelessly get thrown into the room, anything to free you of them to be skin to skin as fast as possible. Halsin doesn't waste any time to split you open on his thick cock. The pace with which your hips meet is frenzied, your hands growing shaky with desire and need to feel the others skin under the pads of your fingers. His thrusts are precise, hitting all the right spots inside of your velvety walls that make your hands quake against his body, raking your nails over the warm skin and through the thick hair until it becomes too much and you have to rest them against the sizable chest. Through his animalistic grunts and your moans, far away through the haze of gratification as his thumb begins to rub tight circles into the tight bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs, there is a faint knocking against the wall. However, you can´t bring yourself to care.

As the two of you near climax again, Halsin holds your body up by the hips to fuck into you mercilessly, bringing you over the edge first, before following right after as your cunt spasms around his hardness.

The two of you collapse against the bed as you are still feeling the waves of bliss crash over you, too exhausted to keep upright any longer. Not a single word is exchanged as the two of you are catching your breath yet you can still feel the warmth and safety of his arms wrapping around you. A few moments later soft snores replace the space that not too long ago was taken up by sounds of pleasure, steadily growing louder. Smiling to yourself, you shift to make yourself comfortable and with Halsin´s softening length still inside of you, you slip off into the world of dreams as well.

[nackrosor]

~ Childhood Sweethearts ~

[Part 2 / ?]

Leon S. Kennedy x bestie!Reader

PART 1 ✨ PART 3 💫

warnings/tags: friends to lovers, slow burn, pining, eventual romance, eventual smut, depressed/traumatised Leon, angst with hurt/comfort

series synopsis: you and Leon have been friends since you can remember. You've always been there for him, especially through the bad times. He's in a bad place again and he needs you. You're the only light in his pretty dark life.

word count: 3,8k.

The hours passed slowly as you sat there, watching over him. Thankfully, only the occasional twitch of his brow and unconscious babbling disturbed his otherwise peaceful rest.

You treated his fever by placing a damp and cold cloth over his forehead until you could feel his skin had cooled considerably. Even so, your gaze never left his form, not even to rest your eyes for a moment. You remained vigilant the entire time. The events of the previous hours, as well as conjectures about what had led your best friend to his current state, lingered in your mind, pestering it for hours, although at least they ensured you stayed awake.

Eventually, the first signs of morning appeared, and the darkness outside your window faded into faint hints of light that trickled through your curtains. You thanked the sky for providing you with a clear and sunny day after such a dark and stormy night.

Only a few moments later, Leon began to stir and struggle to open his heavy eyes.

You swiftly moved to his side, kneeling by the bed. Your hand instinctively moved to his forehead to gauge his temperature again, and you breathed a sigh of relief when you felt his skin cool to the touch, just like the last time you had checked.

You stalled for a moment, waiting for his eyes to fully open before speaking.

“Good morning, Leon... How are you feeling?" You asked him softly, brushing his blonde locks of hair off his temples.

"I'm tired... Thirsty..." he complained in a raspy voice. He sounded more coherent than the previous night, although he was still struggling to articulate sentences. His throat must have been sore and his mouth pretty dry.

You were ready to stand up and fetch him a glass of water, but before you could move a finger, he reached out his hand to cup your cheek. His gaze met yours for the first time since he woke up, and you nearly gasped out loud. He flashed you that knowing look he always gives you when he acknowledges something you did before you could even tell him. His thumb brushed delicately over the bags under your eyes, as if he meant to wipe them from your skin, and you stared at him in awe as the angles of his lips twisted in a small smile. 

"You look awful…"

Your face immediately broke into a grin. There he was. There was the Leon you adored. The familiar sarcasm in his tone provided an instant balm to your fretting heart. He was clearly feeling better. At the very least, he sounded more like himself.

"Look who's talking…" you snapped back jokingly, like you always do. You two would always go back and forth, taunting and poking fun of one another until the stupid jokes had you both in stitches. It was kind of like your love language. And you'd missed it. You had missed it so much.

Smiling knowingly at him, you gently patted the back of his hand and then pulled it away from your face.

"I'll be back in a moment with some water." you announced, standing up and walking to the door. "Don't move, mh?" you teased him, arching your brow as you turned to leave the room.

As you walked away, Leon let out what sounded like a scoff, leaving you grinning even harder. And you smiled all the way to the kitchen and back to the bedroom, holding a full glass of water in one hand. You couldn't help but feel like the worst was over and things could only get better from here.

When you returned, Leon had already managed to sit straight and lean his back against the bed's headrest. He turned to look at you as you approached him again and sat down next to him.

"Thanks..." he rasped as he took the drink from you. You silently observed him as he drank the water, recalling how you had to assist him with the same task last night, when he struggled to even rest his lips against the rim. He was doing it by himself this time, with little to no trouble.

"Water should help you with your hangover..." you stated softly, taking the empty glass from him. A mischievous gleam flashed across your eyes. "But I don’t know, you're the expert..." 

Leon appeared to notice the veiled jab in your words, but instead of engaging in banter as you assumed he would, you watched as his face fell and his gaze darted to the opposite side. Your chest clenched, and you immediately felt guilty about what you'd said. Perhaps it was too soon.

"Did I... Did I cause you trouble?"

He sounded and looked ashamed as he spoke. His gaze shifted from yours to the sheets, his brow furrowing as if he was remembering or attempting to recall what had occurred the night before.

You huffed a soft giggle through your nose, aiming to lighten the situation. You couldn't bear seeing that look on his face.

"You puked all over my sink, drenched my carpet..." you began, with a humorous tone. "You took my favourite side of the bed, my clothes..." you added, gently nudging him with your knee. You were hoping to ease the tension and make him smile again.

"I guess I did cause a bit of trouble..." he conceded. You had managed to get him to crack a little smile, albeit an exhausted and short-lived one.

He cleared his throat, rubbed his palms over his face and then took a long breath. 

"Are you angry with me?" he finally asked. 

His question left you stunned for a minute. It wasn't something you'd heard from him before, and you realised it must have required a lot of courage for him to bring it up. You frowned at his serious tone at first, but you quickly offered him one of your big smiles in the hopes that it would instantly reassure him and leave no room for doubts.

"Do I look like I'm angry to you?"

Leon seemed to relax at the sight, although he still looked concerned. 

"No... No, you don't," he said quietly, glancing down then back up at you. "I really mean it, though... I really am sorry for last night. I shouldn't have..."

You gave him a puzzled look as he paused and glanced away, evidently caught up in his own thoughts. 

"Do you... Do you hate me for this?" 

Your frown only deepened in response to his question. Hate? Was he seriously afraid you'd despise him for what had happened? You hadn't expected to hear him talk like that. 

"If I hate you for coming to me for help when you needed it?" You pressed him, your tone somewhat reprimanding but also understanding, as if you were trying to reason with a hurt child.

“No, Leon. I do not hate you. I am not upset with you. Why would I be?"

You couldn't understand. Was he recollecting his dizzy thoughts from the previous night and feared that he might have done anything to jeopardise your friendship? Or was he just feeling ashamed to have let you see him in such a miserable state?

"I'm sorry... I should've..."

He paused again, seeking for the right words which hesitated to come. Finally, he sighed and rubbed his eyes with his palms before fixing his gaze on you. Your chest tightened as you saw his lapis lazuli clouded with sorrow. 

"I... I'm just... I'm just tired. Tired of everything," he admitted with a shaky tone. "Tired of being alone." The corners of his eyes and the angles of his mouth curved into a faint, sad smile as he added in a whisper, "I wanted to see you..."

You felt a pang in your heart after hearing his admission. You grabbed his hand impulsively and squeezed it in a reassuring gesture. That must have been the reason he started drinking again, as well as the cause of his state last night. Only the thought of him staggering through the streets in the pouring rain, completely inebriated, with the sole intent of coming to see you is enough to cause a lump to form in your throat.

You had no idea how severe his loneliness was. He had never spoken about it so openly, so bluntly, actually stressing the words out loud. He had always mentioned the nightmares, the memories, and the emotions they brought back, but never how lonely he felt. Or maybe he did. Maybe he gave you the signals but you failed to pick them up. That awful notion crept into your muddled head, leaving you doubting yourself. Could you have done more for him? Could you've been more present? But you were always there for him when he needed you...

"Leon... You're not alone." You addressed firmly, despite the fact that your voice was quivering with emotion. "I'm always here for you, you know that."

He softly clasped your hand back. The melancholy in his eyes intensified, but there was a certain tenderness in the way he gazed at you.

"I know," he responded calmly, and you were soothed by the straightforward response. "I just... I just wish I wouldn't have to rely on you so much."

He took a brief pause before continuing to speak. "I know it's not easy to be around me, to help me through this."

Did that mean there had been instances when he chose not to bother you even though he needed someone? Even though he needed you to be there? The thought caused you to desperately shake your head, your frown deepened and your heart clenched. 

He looked across at your face again, his expression anguished, and before you could voice your protest, he declared, "You don't deserve all of this..."

You couldn't bear to look at his face nor listen to his self-deprecating statements. In a rush of affection, you drew in and wrapped your arms around him, resting your head on his chest. 

"Stop that nonsense." you groaned, squeezing your eyes closed. "You're my best friend, Leon, and I care about you. I want you to rely on me... You will never be a burden. Never."

As you held him, he buried his head in your shoulder and wrapped his arms around you as well. He just hugged you tight and for a couple of moments he seemed unable to say anything else.

You could feel his heartbeat against your cheek. It was erratic, thumping rapidly just like yours, yet mixed with the warmth radiating off his body, it somehow managed to soothe you, even if only a little.

"I want you to know..." he began, his voice trembling noticeably. You could feel his warm breath tingling the sensitive skin of your neck. "When I have nightmares... When I wake up in the middle of the night... or  whenever those feelings resurface... The first thing I think of is that I wish you were there."

Your stomach clenched at his confession. It both devastated and touched you to hear him say that, and you were unable to convey the conflicting feeling into words. You simply hugged him closer in response, momentarily failing to speak.

"You always know how to make me feel better... Just you being there for me, being present… helps."

You sealed your eyes shut so as to keep the tears at bay, but the more he shared, the more he opened his heart to you, the harder it proved to refrain from crying. 

"I wish..." he whispered, burying his face further into the crook of your neck, "...that you were there all the time..."

He paused. The pain in his voice forced him to swallow.

"I wish it was always just you and me..."

You were truly fighting off the sobs as he gave voice to such a heart-wrenching wish. You couldn't hug him any tighter and yet you tried anyway, hoping to fully convey to him how much you cared about him, cherished him. To really make him feel your love, which was boundless.

"I wish I could always be there for you..." you managed to blurt out in answer, your voice muffled by the growing lump in your throat. You kept your cheek pressed against his chest, seeking shelter in the rhythm of his heartbeat and the warmth of his body.

One of his hands crept to the nape of your neck, slipping between your hair and cupping the back of your scalp in a panicked yet affectionate motion, pulling you closer to him.

"I wish... I wish we could go back to... The good days..."

The mounting anguish in his voice rendered it all the more challenging for you to remain strong for his sake.

"Before..." he said slowly. "When... Before..."

At the end, his voice trailed off; he seemed to be struggling with letting the words out.

You knew all too well what he meant to say, even if he failed to say it out loud and at that point it all became too much for you. A first sob escaped your lips without you could do anything to prevent it.

You raised your head from his chest, your hands moving upward to cup his cheeks in a firm but loving manner, just to make sure he looked directly at you. The sight of his glossy eyes momentarily delayed your speaking.

"I know... I know..." you mumbled, feeling your voice falter as the first tear fell from your eye, "But we can't go back. We can't. We can only move forward and do it in the best way we can. You had me beside you during the good days... You had me beside you during the bad days... You'll have me, always. I won't leave you alone."

His jaw clenched and his nostrils flared, as if he, too, was trying his hardest to hold back the tears. Leon opened his mouth to speak, but froze and closed his eyes, looking as though he was trying to summon the courage to share what was on his mind. His pained gaze met yours again as he reached out to brush his thumb on your cheeks to wipe the tears away.

For some time you stayed like that, just gazing at each other. The air between you buzzing with a mixture of emotions, your faces almost touching and yet no one dared to close the gap. You could have. You could have kissed him right there and then, showing him just how much you meant those words, showing him just how deep your love ran for him. But was it the right time? With Leon in such a wretched state? Wouldn't that have been like taking advantage of him? Oh, you couldn't do that to him, to your special friendship. No, that wasn't the right time… and yet, everything in you was urging you to lean forward.

His gaze travelled from yours to your lips, and his thumb followed the same path to brush away a tear that was sitting at the corner of your mouth. His stare lingered there on your lips, and you practically stopped breathing, caught in a daze. His jaw clenched again, his fingers tensed, his lips parted... But then he drew his hand away and pulled back, breaking the spell. You could hear your heart, too, shattering a little.

"Do you think..." he started but stopped right after to clear his throat. "Maybe we could..."

He attempted to get the words out again, his brow furrowing and his adam's apple bobbing hard in his throat. He eventually gave you a little smile to mask his struggle, but you could see right through it.

"Never mind... It's a stupid idea… forget it."

You blinked back the tears and tried to still the ache in your chest. Whatever he meant to say was clearly all but a stupid idea, you could feel it. 

"We could… what?" You encouraged him softly, touching his arm to reassure him and give him the courage to speak up.

Leon looked down at your hand for a brief moment before slowly returning his gaze to your face. He took a big breath to calm himself down before trying again.

"Maybe we could... Maybe we could..."

His words seemed to catch in his throat once more, and he groaned defeatedly, but you gently rubbed his arm and stared at him patiently until he finally managed to continue.

"Maybe we could... Live together... I mean-"

His eyes widened, as if he couldn't believe he'd actually said it aloud, or perhaps out of fear for your reaction. Either way, he promptly tried to downplay his own words. "I told you. It's a stupid idea, really..." 

"Live together?" you echoed his suggestion, a stunned look on your face. Your palm left his arm, nervously clasping the other hand in your lap. "You mean... like roommates?"

You thought you saw pain flash across his eyes for a split moment before he quickly concealed it under a solemn expression. 

"Yeah, like..." He took a deep breath and tried to compose himself. "Like roommates..."

You could see a mix of emotions flickering in his eyes as he held your gaze; dread, hope, shame, trepidation... Then he looked away and ran his shaking hands through his hair. 

"Look, I-I know it sounds silly..." he continued, his voice filled with frustration and urgency. "I just..."

His intense gaze met yours again, and you could see desperation written all over his face.

"...I just don't want to be alone anymore. At least for a while.

He was growing exceedingly restless and nervous by the second, and before his state could get any worse, you grabbed his hands and squeezed them tight to interrupt his spiral of negative thoughts. A tender smile playing on your lips.

"There's nothing silly about it, Leon... Actually, I believe it's a good idea.” You reassured him in a soft yet resolute tone. "I could keep a constant eye on you that way," you observed, a hint of playfulness returning to your tone.

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

"You mean you'll..." he began, but stopped mid-sentence. He blinked and frowned, seemingly taken aback by your response. "Really?" he asked. "Are you sure? You don't have to... It's a lot to ask-"

"It's not a lot to ask!" You interrupted him with a soft chuckle and a squeeze of your hands. "We're best friends! And we used to spend a lot of time together, didn't we? It will be just like in the old days... when we were younger. Except this time, instead of separating at the end of the day, we'll be sharing a house." You mused, a hint of mirth in your voice. "You can move here even right away. I'm absolutely fine with it. More than fine. I'm thrilled."

Leon remained still for a minute, his eyes drawn to your hands holding his. You swear you saw the corners of his lips twitch in a moved smile, but it vanished all too quickly, leaving you wondering if you had imagined it.

His hands slipped out of your grasp, only to wrap around yours and squeeze tightly, like if he was holding on for dear life.

"I... I just don't want you to feel like... Like you have to..."

He looked up at you again.

"Are you really okay with it?" He asked with a hint of a smile, hope shimmering like a white wave across his blue eyes. "I won't bother you?"

He evidently needed a bit more encouragement, so you smiled even bigger and declared, "It's decided!" to dismiss any further doubt. "You'll move in with me. The guest room is not as big as my bedroom, but I hope it's comfortable enough for you-"

"It's perfect!" he replied in a hurry, perhaps with too much enthusiasm, not that you would hold it against him. "Just for the simple fact that it's here with you."

You couldn't help but feel a flutter in your stomach upon hearing his remark, although you tried your best not to dwell on the feelings that it evoked inside you. All that mattered was the joy that was clearly returning to your best friend's face. And seeing him smile was all that you needed.

"Thank you, Y/N," he whispered, closing his eyes and raising your clasped hands to his forehead. "Thank you so much." 

The sight made your heart skip a beat and your cheeks flush; the way he cradled your hands and nuzzled his forehead against your skin was almost too much for you to bear. Yet you tried your hardest to hold your emotions at bay. 

"Now…" you cleared your throat and gently pulled your hands back before you could say or do something dumb. "Do you think you can make it to the kitchen for breakfast? Or do I need to bring it here? 

His lovely eyes met yours again, and for some reason, this time they sent shivers down your spine.

"I'm sure I can make it to the kitchen," he replied with a smile. "Go ahead. I will be there in a minute or two."

You smiled back at him and nodded before standing.

"You know... I think this will actually do me a lot of good..." he added, causing you to halt, "I won't have to spend so much time alone." He paused, then pointed out, "You won't have to worry as much either."

"Yeah... I guess this truly is the best option for us both." You confirmed with a smile, despite the growing apprehension that was clawing at your stomach. It would be so much harder to hide your feelings from him while living under the same roof 24/7…. But you'd have to make do somehow. Leon seemed overjoyed at the prospect of moving in with you, and there was no way you could take that away from him. No way.

With one final lingering look at his serene face, you turned around and walked to the doorway, only to stop at the last minute.

"Don't take too long, or I'll eat all the croissants," you teased him, snickering at the sight of the grin that instantly lit up his face.

“You wouldn't dare…”

You merely shrugged and disappeared down the hall. 

Leon huffed an earnest chuckle as you left the room and shook his head in amusement. With a sigh he fell back down on the mattress and closed his eyes. A wave of relief washed over him as he replayed the last portion of your conversation in his head. 

"Finally..." he whispered to himself. "I can't believe it's finally happening. Now... I can begin to find my peace again..."

For the first time in years, he felt an overwhelming sense of joy and hope for the future. 

"Thank you," he uttered, raising his hands to cover his face as the tears he fought so hard to suppress began to prickle his eyes. This time, he did not hold them back. 

"Just... Thank you."

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[phsychobanana]

In another world, we hate each other just as much

Pairing: Zuko x Reader

WC: 930

Summary: Maybe enemies to lovers wasn't a trope meant for them...

Honor. Family. Redemption.

Some of the things Zuko has wanted more than anything in the blur of these last few years.

Honor.

Something only he could get for himself by capturing the avatar.

Family.

He wanted his family back desperately. Not so much the people themselves, but the title and pride that came with knowing them.

Redemption.

Something he'd hoped for when choosing to join team avatar in defeating his very own father, Fire Lord Ozai.

Though they didn't come to trust him as easily as he'd hoped for them to, they eventually came around. Well, most of them.

Seven months after the end of the war. Seven months after peace was restored and balance swept over the world (for the most part), Y/n still didn't trust him. Not one bit.

He'd tried everything. Gifts, reassuring words, going on a "life-changing adventure" like he did with other gaang members, and yet nothing seemed to work. So, naturally, he grew to resent her just as she did him.

It was a peaceful morning, birds flying through the air, the soft smell of tea wafting through the air. Zuko stood beside his uncle, his feet bare as the blades of grass tickle them.

The peace was quickly interrupted, however, when a familiar voice cut through the air. A voice that immediately brought a frown to Zuko’s face.

“Hi, Master Iroh!” Y/n says, her voice cheerful and cute. Oh, how he hated that voice. Hated how sweet it was, hated how it made his heart skip a beat, hated how it put the bird's songs to shame.

“Ah, Y/n, how wonderful! Isn’t it wonderful that Y/n could make it, Zuko?” Iroh nudges his nephew, ever the matchmaker.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever.” Zuko mumbles.

“Well, i’ll go make some more tea now that Y/n has decided to join us. Play nice, you two.” Just as soon as he was there, Iroh is gone.

Zuko sends a glare in his uncle’s direction, before rounding on Y/n, his glare even sharper than before. Y/n simply crosses her arms, a smirk clear on her face.

“What’s wrong, Zuzu?” She asks in a mocking tone.

Zuko simply scoffs, unbelieving of her behavior.

“It’s Fire Lord Zuko.” He says, standing upright, his nose in the air.

“Hmm…sure it is.” She smiles, clearly amused by the fact that she’s already getting under Zuko’s skin.

Out of frustration, Zuko lifts his hand to facepalm, and not realizing just how pissed off he was, his hand lights up with the movement. He doesn’t even notice until a soft hiss of pain hits his ears. Zuko’s eyes widen at the noice, and he quickly turns to look at Y/n.

“Did i do that?” He asks.

“No, the wind did it.” Y/n replies, her words drenched in sarcasm and pain.

“Haha. So funny. It’s your fault, anyway. You’re lucky i don’t do it again, on purpose this time.” Zuko says, smirking proudly as he watches the burn, still fresh, sizzle on her arm.

Y/n glares at him, sending a rock flying his way. Zuko’s eyes widen at her rebuttal, and he quickly dodges out of the way. 

“You dare challenge me in my own home?” He scoffs, amused by her actions.

Y/n's eye brows raise in slight surprise. "Are you smiling, oh mighty Zuko?"

"What? No. Of course not. You've probably got dirt in your eyes, filth," Zuko quickly turns away from the girl, forcing his face to harden.

The sound of hard footsteps causes Zuko to turn around. When he does, he sees Y/n now standing much closer to him, a teasing smirk on her lips. Not that he's staring at her lips. That'd be crazy. Haha...

"You were smiling. I saw it," Y/n pokes Zuko's chest accusingly.

"Was not!" Zuko argues childishly.

"We're too!"

"Was not!"

"Were-fucking-too!"

"WAS NOT!"

"STOP LYING!"

Fire crackling, rocks grumbling, loud arguing, small explosion, heavy breathing. That was all that could be heard from the courtyard as the two got into a heated argument over something so childish.

Eventually, as the ancestors would have it, the two end up toppling over each other, Zuko ending up straddling Y/n's hips in a rather....awkward position.

Zuko looks down at her with wide eyes, a rosy blush making its way to his face. Though, that's not the only place he has blood rushing to.

Y/n huffs, slowly sitting up on top of the blushing boy, her glare practically pinning him in place. She's also red in the face, though it's more out of anger than it is embarrassment.

"Would you get off of me already? Whatever you have in your pockets is poking me!" Y/n complains, her fits colliding with his chest aggressively.

Zuko swallows nervously, knowing that there's nothing in his pockets. He slowly stands to his full height, the blush on his cheeks never tiring. His hands fold together in front of his crotch in a feeble attempt to hide his...excitement?

Y/n gives him an unimpressed look as she dusts herself off. "First you burn me, then you make me fall, what's next? Kill me?"

"Maybe." Zuko responds, though his words lack their usual heat.

Y/n's brows furrow in confusion at Zuko's lack of conviction. "What's up with you?"

She glances to where his hands are fidgeting, and then back up to his face, her eyes widening upon realization.

"Seriously?! A hard-on, you weirdo?!" She shrieks.

Zuko's face burns even hotter, and he turns away, mumbling a half-assed "shut up".

Y/n cackles upon this discovery, doubling over. She wipes tears of mirth from her eyes before speaking, "I thought you were mad at me."

"It's a hate boner, i swear." Zuko says sternly, even though it sounds like he's trying to convince himself more than he's trying to convince her. "I still hate you. Always will."

Y/n rolls her eyes in response. "Yeah, yeah. We hate each other in every universe, i get it. Dumbass."

"Bitch."

"Freak."

"Vine-head."

"Hate boner."

"SHUT UP!"

[joshslater]

Granny’s Will

A rewrite of JD's story. Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

"You should stay away from him," she hissed in a low voice. I turned my head towards Cody's creepy granny and saw her leaning my way. "What?" I answered, not understanding what she meant. "Tell Cody you don't love him. You were only with him for the sex, but now understand how shallow you are. Tell him you are not good enough for him, clearly. You're also not good for him. He's just so full of disgusting thoughts now. Soon his grades are going to suffer. You're like a parasite, pumping him full of poison."

Her voice went harsher the further she went on. I just stared into my empty plate wondering if she was for real. If she would end the tirade with a "j/k lol", but I hadn't heard a single joke from her all evening. "I'm..." I started, unsure what to say. It was just so unhinged, like a rambling better suited a century ago.

"Should I get the desert?" Cody asked, returning from his bathroom break, and clearly not reading the mood of the room. We made a good couple on campus. He was the captain of the Lacrosse team, and supplemented his hard training on the team with some extra gym time to have a fitness magazine cover toned body. I was on the cheerleader team with body of a nymph. All rack and ass, long smooth, tanned legs, and tall enough to kiss him without standing on my toes. I decided to give my response to his granny right away, and left my chair to join him. "It's already here," I said and kissed him on the mouth. Not a quick kiss either, but with tongue and passion. With my tongue still in him I turned him around so I could see his grandmother. She looked pissed and her saggy face had turned red. Good. I locked eyes with her and gave her the finger behind Cody's back. Her eyes were turning red too. And glowed.

There was a sharp slap in my face, as if someone hit me with an open palm, and I felt a shock of pain through my entire body. I was thrown backward and fell, or perhaps rather forcefully pushed down, crashing into a bed. All pain was immediately gone and I was lying on my back in a silent and dim room. Faint sunlight glowed through the drawn curtains.

My thoughts were a jumble. While I didn't feel cold, I was naked and the sheets were damp with sweat. I leaned up, my eyes still adjusting to the lack of light, and saw a room I hadn't seen before. At the same time it was a kind of room I knew very well. Beat up weight bench, piles of laundry, X-box under the TV, and fit babes showing lots of skin on posters on the walls. Your standard sports jock room. Also filling the room was the dank smell of sweaty dude I also knew very well, and never liked when visiting the guys on the team for some... at home exercise.

"No fuckin' way…" I muttered, grabbing my throat hearing the deep mumble that escaped my lips. I felt the thick bulge in my neck, then stripped the sheets off me to see a massive, bulky body that wasn’t mine! “FUUUUUCK!” I shouted, jumping out of bed and hurling my beefy self to the full-length mirror hanging on the back of the door.

Staring back at me was a tall, tanned, and incredibly ripped jock, the epitome of a dumb fratboy. Handsome but dickish face framed by unruly curls. Wide, hefty rounded shoulders, pecs that bounced and flexed at even the slightest move, jutting out from my brawny chest. A killer 6 pack, shredded from practice, and the V-line of a god leading down to a big bulge in the trunks. My trunks. I turned to look at my back and suddenly the vision of my cheerleading friends giggling about “jockbutts” as we watched the guys play came to mind. Athletic, striated thighs and calves like footballs completed the look before ending in pair of big sweaty feet. The tongue of my kicks just by the door told me they were size 15. Dude, ya know what they say about big feet? Totally true, yo! I was starting to bone up just looking at myself, filling out the trunks! Wait till the chicks see me! WAIT! NO! Chicks?! I mean, my Bros… Nah, fuck dude why would they care? They’re just as swole! uuuuugh… my head….

I staggered from the mirror and fell back on the bed. What the fuck had just happened? My head was pounding and my stomach growling. I knew this was Cody's granny's fault, somehow, but spending any more time in this rank room wouldn't solve anything, and to leave I needed something more than the loose, grey trunks I was currently wearing. The room was a mess, but inside the wide open wardrobes I only saw winter clothes. I grabbed a pair of basket shorts from the floor next to the bed and put them on, and their pair of socks from the floor under the shorts. Just as I was about to open the door I also decided to step into the sneakers.

The house was foreign to me, but lots of the decorations and furnishings were familiar. I walked down the stairs and into the kitchen where my mother was making breakfast as if nothing was out of the ordinary. She offered me second helpings of everything, complained that I was eating her out of the house, and told me I needed to shower before heading to school. I tried to argue that I was going to the gym with Cody after school, but she firmly told me that wouldn't be of any help to anyone who had to sit near me. It was only after I was in the shower I realized I somehow knew my schedule for the day. What was going on?

The house was in the old suburb the city had turned into a rent-controlled zone. All the buildings looked much more dilapidated here compared to our real house, but the upshot was that the school was within walking distance. As I was short on time I threw on the same clothes and a sweatshirt, grabbed the backpack, and started to jog there. Halfway to school Cody's granny suddenly stepped out of nowhere just in front of me. "One week," she said.

"What the fuck is going on?" I said, still not used to hearing my deep voice. "You have one week to show you can control that lustful body of yours. If your dick squirts a single drop of your disgusting ball phlegm you'll be stuck like this where you can't hurt him," she said in her shrill voice and poked my chest with her nail.

Just as suddenly as she appeared she was gone, and I felt a chill down my spine to my balls. I'd never felt a sensation like that before, but then I'd been a dude for like an hour. It was like you needed to pee, but different, and I could feel my recent dick stiffening again. Obviously the old crow had gifted me with a horniness attack as a parting gift. It was almost physically painful to not touch my junk and rub one out right then and there. The remainder of the way to school was agony as I jogged past worn-down houses built for Korean war vets back when, with MILFs getting in their cars to get to work. Occasionally a car with a babe from school would zip by, and when Riley from my class waved I was so close to bust a nut. I don't think it was the actual jog that made me arrive at school all sweaty and smelly.

School was weird. Obviously I knew everyone in class, but somehow it wasn't a shock to them that I was suddenly this muscular jock. My usual spot had been moved to back in the room, and the teachers weren't really paying much of any attention to me. Which was probably a good thing, because man did I have a lot of issues to deal with. Who designed these desks? They were way too small to sit straight in. I found the only bearable way to sit in them was to slouch, legs spread apart to not slide off the seat. That however made a full display of my erratic boner. If I focused on what the teacher tried to tell us I could take attention away from my horny dick long enough for it to get soft, but as soon as one of the girls answered a question I could do nothing but stare at their back and remember from PE how they looked naked. Queue tenting and feeble attempts to cover it up.

I squirmed and sweated my way through the classes, half the time thinking a sweatshirt was the worst decision with how clammy I was and half the time thinking what a masterstroke it was to hide in it. I was close to losing it during lunch. You might think that just putting more people in a room wouldn't be an issue. You can only have so many people in your field of view after all, and the ratio of hot to average people is the same. But somehow the average-looking people melt away and your eyes keep darting between the super hot people, most of which I'd showered with at cheerleading practice. I did my best to keep focus on the food, and it kind of helped because as soon as I started eating I realized how hungry I was.

Time dragged on during the afternoon, and I did my best to stay unfocused. Listen to the teacher, but zone out from class interactions and certainly everyone in class, and above all don't think of your own body and how it feels. Most teachers left me alone, and the one that didn't I managed to give an answer that satisfied him enough that I wasn't totally asleep.

After school Cody and I went to the gym. I somehow knew that we usually did that on the days with no lacrosse practice, which was kind of unsettling to me. How much else of my mind and my memories had his grandmother soiled? It was nice to finally be alone with Cody, but he was acting quite different than he used to around me. I was after all just a teammate now, albeit someone he was friendly enough with to be his gym buddy. He seemed chattier and less guarded than I've ever known him. Lots of talk bout the cheerleading team and babes in general, which I did my best to deflect. We changed into our gym clothes, for me a grey tank top and shorts with a printed sunset on, and went to work. I was again shocked that I knew things I didn't know before, like how to use the gym equipment and spot for Cody. He for his part continued to talk about girls, and that's when it hit me, as I saw ourselves in a mirror wall. He was trying to impress me. Despite him being the captain, he clearly saw me as the top dawg, at least regarding girls and sex. The player among his peers.

As unsettling as some of the revelations at the gym had been, at the end, once I got Cody to focus on the exercises, it felt cleansing to work as hard as possible. It was like all of the sexual buildup over the day got released and replaced with glowing muscles. Most of it anyway. Walking back home from the gym alone with my thoughts I was confused with how the day had ended. Not only was I still with Cody, but I had somehow become his best buddy. It was bewildering why his granny had made that change, but I was grateful for it. Above all though it felt like I had a shot. I could survive one week of this and come out better for it.

Immediately as I stepped into the mess that was my room I wasn't so sure anymore. The walls were filled with scantily clad women, just at the line of what is acceptable to sell to students. Pop stars, actresses, and photo models. But worse than that was the smell. That jock room smell, heated by sunlight all day. Even before this transformation nonsense I would associate it with sex, though from an entirely different point of view. I could feel the horniness coming crashing in fast and rushed to the bathroom for another shower, a colder one.

I spent all the time between dinner and bedtime playing on the X-box, trying to avoid thinking about anything but the game. Several times during the games I caught myself joining in with all the sexist shit my teammates kept saying over the voice chat. It wasn't that it got me hard again, but it did make me worry about how easily bro speak kept creeping in.

The boner I woke up to was almost painful. The room was warm, I was hot, and my dick strained the fabric of the trunks I had gone to bed with. Barely awake my right hand almost automatically started to slowly grab and rub my hot rod when all of a sudden the last clouds of sleep vanished and in panic I realized what I was dangerously close to do. I jumped out of bed, rushed into the shower, and had another close call before I lowered the temperature. I needed to come up with some sort of plan to survive this week.

I threw together a shitty lunch box, protein bars and fruit, so I could avoid the school cafeteria. I put on a cut-off T to not melt in the classroom, and compression shorts as underwear in the hope of keeping that troublesome dick in place. I brought the tangled mess of headphones with me so I could tune out the class and focus on the book and the board. I was determined to not fail.

The day started out fine, though Mr. Carlton in English objected to me wearing the headphones. I told him to back off for one week, as I was on my period. The rest of the class laughed, he blushed, and left the matter. Honestly I scared myself again with that response as I kept having these short moments when I didn't act like myself, but like this douchy frat dude.

At lunchtime I was starting to feel real horny again. If not for the compression shorts under my loose basket shorts I would be visibly tenting. I went to the stadium to get away from everyone and do a few laps in the hope that physical exercise would keep the libido in check, like what happened when I worked out with Cody. Just as I had hoped the area was deserted. No one else was dumb enough to be out on the track at midday in this hot weather. I wanted to get two or four laps in, to get 800 or 1600 meters, but it was too hot. After one lap I could feel the sweat running down my back. Instead I ended up cooling my dick in the drinking fountain by the bleachers to numb it a bit, downed half a gallon of water, and ate my packed lunch.

It felt like things were going downhill from there. Jessica kept staring at me during US history and then invited herself to team up with me during chemistry. It was like she didn't care I had practically soaked my shirt during lunch. It took me longer than I want to admit, and a fragrant lab with ammonium chloride, to realize that perhaps she reacted the way she did because of how I smelled and not despite it. Of course that witch must have done something with my pheromones, if that wasn't new-age bullshit. That meant I would have to keep my distance from girls too, because no way her magic worked one way.

Thankfully next on the schedule was Lacrosse training with Cody and the team. I knew all these guys since I started cheerleading, some longer, but this was way different. I was one of them, moreover one they looked up to almost as much as Cody. I ought to have been harder than ever getting into gear with all those muscled bodies, but I barely rocked a semi. Though to be fair I was probably the best looking guy of the bunch. All those thoughts just vanished as soon as we entered the field. It was just me, the team, the coach, and the game.

I don't think I can put in words how exhilarating it was to not think of anything but what was happening right there and then. Time just rushed me by and we were heading back to the locker room again. Cody made sure to walk just next to me, patting my shoulder, and telling me how great it had been. He was right.

We talked about what had gone well, what we needed to improve, how Alex had screwed up all his passes, how Lauren from the cheerleader squad had looked at me throughout practice, how Cody's group project in Spanish was falling apart, what games I had been playing last night. Not until we stepped into the showers did it hit me that this was all wrong. I was his girlfriend, not his mate. I don't know if he noticed any shift in my demeanor, because as I was lost in those thoughts he began staring at me. "Fuck, you really are hung as a donkey" he said, and I looked down at my soapy hand absentmindedly jerking my fully erect dick off. Fuck! I stopped immediately. "Keep at it, bro. Looks like you need it. Why's everyone so quiet?" he said and left the showers. I realized we were the only ones left, though we had been the last ones back into the locker room from the field.

The showers only had one setting, lukewarm, so I couldn't go for a cold shower. I desperately needed one, apparently. I hadn't even noticed what I was doing before Cody rescued me, and I wasn't even through the second day. I quickly rinsed off the soap, made hasty work with the towel, and returned to the locker room.

"Looks like someone is ready," a smirking Lauren said from across the empty locker room. I was too surprised to hide anything with the towel in my hand. I stood frozen, like a deer in headlights, completely naked, and with a raging hardon. "I asked everyone if we could have a moment," she continued. She was wearing the white sneakers, the knee-high socks, and the cheerleading skirt from our uniform, but was topless. Her beautiful sand blonde, wavey hair reached down to her perky, round breasts. I had always been envious of that hair, but it was the boobs, jiggling as she approached me, that kept my attention. I could feel hormones rush into all the primate parts of my body while I stood still. She kept getting closer until at last her chest touched mine. It was like something snapped inside me, like a glass ampoule in a glow stick, that couldn't be put back. I grabbed her and kissed her, long and deep. To hell with Cody's granny's witch games. She did this, so she can undo it. I just needed to empty my balls into this slut. She wasn't wearing her spankies and I knew for a fact she was on her pills, so we were almost instantly on my towel on the bench with her legs over my shoulders, squeezing my fuck stick.

It was everything I had hoped for, though probably much quicker than she had hoped for, when my shattering orgasm came. Whoever said girls' orgasms were better had never tried out this body. Fucking hell how good it felt filling the bitch up. She was still smirking when I pulled out my dick and leaked our smoothie blend on my towel. "Now be a slutty boy and keep the rest of the chicks off Cody," she said, eyes glowing red.

[rippersz]

𝒯𝑜 𝒫𝑒𝑜𝓅𝓁𝑒 𝒲𝒶𝓉𝒸𝒽 𝒪𝓃𝑒 𝒫𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑜𝓃:

(A Larissa Weems x fem!reader fanfic) (Part 8)

(Part 7)

❀•°•═════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════•°•❀

“Nevermore Academy.”

You tilted your head. 

Nevermore… Nevermore… 

“The school for outcasts. In Vermont.” Larissa specified, tone growing sharper as she watched you with intense eyes - waiting like an Eagle for you to act like a mouse and twitch or shiver or run. 

But you were quite comfortable where you sat - and you weren’t too interested in leaving her alone - or leaving her at all, really. So you nodded and sort of unconsciously ran your gaze over her body. The tense posture, the intrigued but grave expression, the sparkling eyes, the pale skin, the snowy hair, the style, the height. Perhaps your brief thought from however many days ago, of Larissa being an outcast, was correct. Perhaps you ‘clocked’ her before you even realized. Though then again, her beauty wasn’t necessarily conventional. She wasn’t tan or small or dainty and she didn’t have wavy brown or blonde hair and she didn’t wear summery makeup and cute little sundresses or ripped jeans and T-shirts, no, she was… well she was so blatantly different that no one could possibly miss her. And appearance was a big part of outcast culture, you knew. Culture and crucifixion. Judged and bullied and hunted for their looks; desired and sought after and hungry for their beauty. Goodness, normies were horrid. You couldn’t even imagine the shit Larissa had gone through in life. 

“If that is going to be a problem-”

You cut her off immediately with a firm shake of your head.

“No- no no no, I’m sorry, no it’s not a problem. That’s actually really fascinating,” you made eye contact and gave her a small smile. You meant what you said. It was fascinating. You’d never met anyone associated with outcasts so strongly before. It was very interesting. “Is it hard? Having to do that?” You figured it would be - considering regular teenagers were hard enough to deal with already. 

And she seemed to agree, even as shock flashed through her frozen gaze. Clearly, your acceptance was not a thing Larissa was entirely familiar with - but you were glad to find that she recovered quickly and fixed you with a head nod and a small knowing smile. Her shoulder, briefly, bumped against yours. 

“Without a doubt. But - their happiness is something you can’t find everywhere. So to know that I contribute to their settling within the ‘real world’,” she used quotation marks, “is a reward of and within itself. And that’s all that truly matters.”

You tried to catch her eye- you even tilted your head close to find the blue- but she kept her gaze forward and herself silent. 

“You seem very proud of them.” It was the only thing you could think to say. 

Thank goodness it brought a loving smile to her face; lighting her up in a glow that wasn’t just caused by the buzzing lights overhead.

“I am. Unbelievably so,” and that’s when she turned to look at you, carrying the world in her eyes, carrying the weight of her livelihood in her heart. 

Clearly, she loved them. And her job. And all of the things that came with it- difficult and otherwise. And you knew, deep down, that some part of her missed it too. It swirled around in her eyes. In the way her lips quirked into a smile but never quite reached the very core of her joy. 

You hummed, giving her a small close-mouthed upturn of the lips, and looked back down at the paint on your hands. 

“...Why are you here, then? If you work in Vermont?” 

There was a bit of quiet - filled only by the chatter of the world and the callings of the station woman overhead. You wondered what she was thinking then. You wondered if, perhaps, she thought it was a bit too much at once. You wondered if, maybe, she was contemplating if you were trustworthy or not. Admittedly, it would be a bit too late if she decided that was the case after telling you she worked at Nevermore, but you’d accept it either way. The conversation was all hers, in the end - so you’d comply. 

As if you could ever deny her anything. Privacy obviously included. 

“A business trip,” your companion finally said. “Meetings and… such. Boring to you, I’m sure, but reports are the bottom line.” Her lips firmed into a line before softening.

You nodded.

Meetings and reports. A trip for business and not for pleasure. Merely a necessary evil. 

You felt your shoulders fall - drooping beneath the weight of a quick realization.

“So you won’t- I mean you’ll… leave again… yes?” 

Yes. She’ll leave again. And then you’ll be alone. And there will be no one to meet you at the train station. And there will be no one to admire. And there will be no one to feel close to. And there will be only silence and cold and the distinct loss of Larissa’s presence - which has managed to infiltrate your life so thoroughly in only a few months that you can barely picture what the days would be like without the excitement of being able to see her. 

Cruel. Cruel, it was. 

She was going to leave and there you were going to be, staying in the same spot as always. Never leaving even after the world changed. Like a fucking statue that grew from the familiar sheen of brown copper to the dull green of time spent in one place. 

Larissa was going to leave - and when she returned, you’d be there waiting for her. It would be poetic if it didn’t feel like a shot through the heart. And skull. And through every other organ, too.

“You sound hopeful,” she tilted her head to you, pouring blue oceans into the empty cup of your soul. “Do you want me gone that badly?”

You shook your head like a woman possessed while Larissa’s red lips turned up into a smile. 

“N-no! Gods, no! That’s not even- that’s- no! Why would you think that? That’s not even possible!” You waved your hands, eyes wide, heart pounding away behind the feeble skin of your chest. 

Hopeful? 

No. Absolutely not. In no world would you ever be excited for Larissa Weems to leave you. In fact, you silently dreaded the moment she’d go. 

Because what if she never came back? 

“I’m just kidding,” she nudged your side, her broad shoulders shaking with a small chuckle. “I’m not sure when I’m going. Probably in the next few days.” And then she went quiet. 

In the space of silence that followed, a little ding rang out to the strangers around you - and a muffled voice played over the station’s loudspeaker. The words were nearly unintelligible, you had to strain to hear them, but once the microphone crackled back into nothing, a tired sigh left the bones of the woman next to you. Your eyes shot to her profile - and you found her looking down at her phone, opening up the messaging app, tsking beneath her breath. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Larissa huffed. “I believe my train’s just been canceled.” 

“Oh.” 

Oh. 

Well…. That sucked. How would she get back to her hotel? Did she have cash on her for a taxi? Did you have cash on you for a taxi? 

Your hand ran to your pocket and cradled the gentle weight of your wallet. Yes - it was heavy with a few bills; perfect for Larissa’s ride home. Like a gift. From you to her. A thank you of sorts - to thank her for her presence in your life. To thank her for giving you a new muse. To thank her for talking to you, and giving you the time of day, and finding the paint on your hands to be something charming instead of something silly and careless and dumb. 

To thank her for spending her limited time with you before she had to leave again. 

A parting gift, yes. Just in case you didn’t see her tomorrow. Or the next day. Or the one after that. Or the one after that. 

The money felt insignificant when you slipped it into your hand. Like it wouldn’t be enough - not for the cab but for the rest of everything else. You wished you’d thought to get her flowers or something; but then again would a stranger really want flowers from a rando? And what if she was allergic to flowers? And what if you got her roses when really she preferred daisies? Maybe it was for the best you didn’t get her anything at all. Maybe the money would be enough. 

“Here,” you murmured as you slipped your hand out of the warmth of your pocket and held out the money, folded and flat on your palm, facing the dull light of the train station ceiling. 

“Hm?” Was the distracted response you got as Larissa’s eyes never strayed from her phone’s screen. She was texting rather furiously, probably trying to figure something out with someone on the other side - a boss, maybe. Or a travel manager. Or a friend. Or a lover. 

“Here. For the cab.” Your hand pushed forward and brushed against her arm, begging silently for her attention. 

Which you got in the next moment - at full force - as she abruptly turned from her screen and looked into your eyes, then down at your hand, and promptly opened her mouth to protest. 

“Oh- no I couldn’t. Thank you th-” 

“Why not? C’mon. Please?” You loathed the whiny undertone of your voice, but celebrated internally as that blue gaze shot up to your face and looked at you with hesitance. It meant she was on the fence. Thinking about it. Maybe she was nervous about the city? Maybe she thought it was blood money? Or drug money? Or perhaps she just didn’t want to take it when she knew she couldn’t give you anything back? 

But that was absurd- because her company was enough. 

“As a gift,” you added, giving her a cheeky smile. 

“A gift?” A light eyebrow went up, and her lips pursed. 

“Yeah. For your time.” And your smile. And your laugh. And your attention. And your breath. And your existence, really. A gift for everything. Take it. Please. Please, take it. My heart may rupture if you don’t. 

You were pleasantly rewarded with a small snort and a roll of deep blue eyes. The phone was promptly forgotten about, and went black, as Larissa mirrored your smile. 

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” she murmured. 

A gentle heat ran through your body, filling your skin from the edge of your hairline to the tips of your toes. Her voice was soft. Knowing. Absolutely evil as she let out a low hum next and considered the money in your hand. 

“You know you want it,” you sang, picking up your hand to wave the money around a bit in the air - and instantly let out a small squeak when a strong leather palm went wrapping around your wrist and applying the most minute pressure, stopping you mid-taunt. Her hold wasn’t restricting, and it didn’t hurt, and it actually felt quite… nice. The glove was cool and it scratched your skin ever so gently as she moved your hand out of her line of sight to get a clearer look at you. 

“Thank you,” Larissa said slowly, “but I can’t accept this. Please, keep your money.” And then she inclined her head and gave you a quirk of red lips as her hand gently set yours down back into your lap. Then she patted your knuckles and turned back to her phone. 

But I don’t want to!!!! You yearned to shout. I want you to have it because I want to do something nice for you! Because I want you to remember me! 

And perhaps, in the end, that’s all it really boiled down to. 

The people watching, the monotony of daily living, the small interactions you had with strangers - perhaps all of it was done in an effort to get others to remember you. To look back on that random woman they bumped into on that random day in the past. To picture your smile or your frown or your serious eyes as they interacted with you before going on their way without even a whisper of your name. And perhaps Larissa was just another stranger to add to the list.

Except she wasn’t a stranger at all and you actually really quite adored her name and you wanted to know her forever, outcast stereotypes be damned, and she was a woman of such beauty and intelligence that you couldn’t possibly even dream of forgetting her like she could dream of forgetting you. 

But would a taxi fare do the job? Would she remember your name from that alone? Or would she forever see you as the woman who watched her? Who sat in train stations at night and watched other people and got paint on her hands and had bags beneath her eyes and was clearly too caught up in her own mind to take care of herself? 

Or would the future hold something far worse? And she wouldn’t even remember you at all? 

No. I can’t have that. I can’t let her forget me. Not when I know I’ll remember her forever. 

“I’ll come with you, then. To make sure you get there safe. And then I’ll go to my place,” you spoke quickly, heart hammering away with anticipation. “Just this once because of the cancellation.” 

That head of perfect snowy hair turned again- and she looked at you with amusement written across her features. 

“...Are you sure?” She spoke as she straightened her back and adjusted her purse on her shoulder. “Because I can always find another-” 

“I’m positive,” you cut her off with a smile and straightened up as well, body suddenly coming alive with triumph. 

Yes! Yes, we got her! Yes yes yes! This is it! Gift received! Mission accomplished! Remembered! We’ll be remembered boys, wooooo! 

If Larissa could see the excitement in your soul, she didn’t comment on it. Her red lips only went up into a small close-mouthed smile again - and then she was standing. Up to her tall tall height, legs straight and back straight and heels on and good gods she was something out of a museum. You couldn’t help the way you looked up at her as she went, eyes following like iron to a magnet, awe seeping onto your features. So beautiful… So something out of this world… Surely, you were crazy and she didn’t exist at all. 

But then a hand was reaching out to you, and your sluggish brain caught up a moment later to realize she wanted to help you up. 

“Fine then,” she spoke as you grasped her hand and were quickly pulled to your feet (very swiftly, mind you, and with no struggle on her part - god you could swoon-) “But if you get this one, I’ll get the next. It’s only fair. Deal?” 

As you shook her hand with a nod and a grin, all you could think about and wonder about and daydream about and wish about and fall over yourself about was the fact that there would be a next time. 

–

Watching Larissa Weems duck into the cramped backseat of a taxi car was one of the most endearing things you’d ever seen in your life. 

While you lounged against the door, holding it open for her with a smile far sappier than you intended it to be, she gave you a small “Thank you” before bending her knees, putting one leg into the car, grasping the top of the taxi with her right hand, and swinging herself in as best she could. It was graceful in a way you’d never seen before, but the shuffling that came afterward as she tried her best to get comfortable with her clothing, while simultaneously trying not to fuck up her hair, was adorable. You had to pull yourself away from the door and shut it quickly before making your way around to the other side- getting out your little giggle along the way. 

“Where are we goin’, ladies?” The woman in the front seat asked, peering back at you two in the rearview mirror. For a moment, you swore you saw her eyes narrow as she dragged her brown gaze over Larissa’s body, but the look was gone in a flash - too quick for you to be certain.

“The St. Regis, please,” Larissa replied with a quick smile before she leaned back into the seat and allowed herself to relax.

The St. Regis!? Damn! Woman had money! Well - you supposed that wasn’t too much of a surprise. She was the headmistress, the principal, of a well-funded school for outcasts. You couldn’t begin to imagine what her salary was. She certainly indulged in the finer bits of life, if her aesthetic was anything to go by. Usually people of money were an entirely different being; they tended to be rather unpredictable when interacting with those of the ‘middle to lower class’. But Larissa was kind. So kind. And so bright. The desire to ask why she was different, why she didn’t judge so much, was on the tip of your tongue, very nearly falling out into the silence - before you realized the answer was obvious. She was most likely an outcast herself. Of course she wouldn’t judge; at least not in the way you typically came to expect from the rich. Her mind was simply too open - a product of her own genetic being and probably whatever struggles she’d dealt with in her past. She was still capable of judgment, yes, but as you observed her and her closed eyes and her slow breathing and her red lips and her flawless hair and her gloved hands and her beautiful legs and the way she hummed out loud in a sigh that had your heart buzzing away inside you, the doubt seeped into your mind that she probably never judged unless it was absolutely necessar-

“I can feel you staring.”

It was said in a tone so velvety, so perfect and pristine, with that English accent of hers, that you quickly looked away and peered outside of the window to your left. Your cheeks were on fire with blush, and you so terribly wanted to respond with a hasty “I can’t help it!” but you kept your mouth shut and clasped your hands together in your lap. 

“Is there something on my face?” She asked, pulling your attention back to her - just to find her looking at the black screen of her phone, angling it to see what you saw. But all you saw was the kind of beauty that gripped the breath in your lungs and pulled it out through your throat, so she wouldn’t find anything aside from her own face. Which she was lucky enough to stare at everyday. 

You shook your head.

“No, no, you’re fine. Sorry.” 

Blue eyes peered at you from their corners, dancing over the curves of your face as you leaned closer to the pull down cup holders to get a better view of the road. 

Beautiful, was one word of many that flitted across Larissa’s thoughts as she looked at you. With the way the city lights rolled over those features, so unique and so brilliant, and how the shapes molded themselves to the curves of your cheeks and shelves of your brows and bow of your lips… it was something magical, she decided.

“Admiring again?” She covered her own tension-filled gaze by teasing, and silently delighted in the way you rolled your eyes and scoffed at her almost instantly. 

“You wish.” 

And if she did wish, then she most certainly didn’t tell you that. 

“So the Regis, huh? What are you two, on your honeymoon or somethin’?” The taxi driver asked, breaking the tiny tension with her gruff voice. 

You could smell smoke on her as you leaned closer to the seat, eager to admire the lights that you always loved. It was your favorite part of the city - but your attention was wrenched away as you nearly broke your neck turning to the driver. 

“What?!” 

“Why would we honeymoon in New York?” 

Both of you spoke at the same time. Your answer was perhaps the more normal response, and Larissa’s was- well. You whipped around to look at her, eyes wide and brows furrowed. You half expected her to be the one drowning in outrage or confusion or whatever emotion one felt when reacting to a question like that when you knew very well that you were not in a relationship - but she merely raised an eyebrow at you and otherwise appeared quite neutral. 

Does she get asked that question a lot? If she’s on honeymoon? Or what? 

“Ah, city that never sleeps and all that. Meh whatever- Forget I asked! How long you been together?” The woman followed up, her voice even louder than before. 

If you were a couple, it would have made for great conversation, but because you weren’t, all you could do was sit back in your seat and avoid looking at the beauty next to you as you responded with a quick “About two weeks.” 

“Two weeks?! So what, you’re newbies at this?” 

It was Larissa’s turn to look at you with surprise. Two weeks? What were you on abo- oh. Two weeks. Right. That’s how long it had been since you met. 

Because you couldn’t look at her, finding that the blush on your cheeks was way too obvious, you just listened in silence as she saved the conversation and steered it toward clearer waters. 

“Not newbies, no,” she said smoothly. “We actually met two weeks ago. This is just her gift to me.” 

Your eyes met. Her expression was unexpectedly quite warm, holding the entirety of summer in the way her laugh lines deepened and her eyebrows went up. God, you thought then as you smiled, she’s so dreamy. 

“Gift for what?” The driver interrupted, sneaking a glimpse back at you again. 

Larissa’s face turned in response to that. Her features faded into the shadows when you looked at her. Obviously, it was her way of saying ‘Your turn to answer.’ So you cleared your throat and shrugged, looking out of the front window again. 

“Just a kind gesture. I have to go home too so…,” you hummed, then heard the shuffle of Larissa tending back to her phone. 

The St. Regis obviously wasn’t her home, but the cab driver didn’t need to know that. Larissa certainly looked like a woman who could own a room at a place so elegant, so it wasn’t too far of a stretch. Unlike you, of course, who would have to pull many strings and work many long days to even manage a few nights at the hotel without worrying about money for the few weeks after. 

“So I’ll be doin’ two trips?” 

“Yeah. Is that okay?”

“Oh yeah! As long as you get to where you’re goin’!” Her reply was overly enthusiastic, but you weren’t paying attention to her anymore. 

Instead, your eyes had fled to Larissa - and the tip-tapping she was doing on her phone. Texting someone again. How she managed to do that through the leather of her gloves had to be tied to some sort of talent - unless they were thin enough by the fingerpads for her to be able to fly across the screen so easily. When you squinted and couldn’t make out the conversation, you gave up rather quickly. It was rude to snoop like that - no matter how curious you were. Which was very. Very curious. But even before you could sneak another glance and ask if everything was alright, the phone was suddenly turned off and slipped back into her purse. 

“Thank you for doing this, Y/N.” She murmured, sliding her hand across the cup-holder pull out to gently squeeze your forearm. “You’re very sweet.” 

And at that exact moment, a flash of light from a neon sign fell into a slant across Larissa’s face. It cast a fuzzy glow of bubblegum pink over the bridge of her nose, her brows, and her eyes, changing the dear hue from dark blues to tinted pinks. It softened the lines of her face, and brightened her skin, and made her appear like a character straight out of a movie - and you found yourself staring, momentarily tackled by the nearly god-given framing of her features. The hills of her cheekbones, the fading makeup by her eyes, the slight weariness to her expression… she was utterly indescribable. 

You knew you had to respond to her as well, and that the time was spanning longer and longer between her words and your own, but there was nothing to say. You were very sweet - but only because something about her sparked a long-dead spark in your soul. 

And you weren’t sure what the fuck you were gonna do when she left and carried that spark with her.

❀•°•═════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════•°•❀

Slaps this down and trudges away. - Rip x

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Tags (keep in mind Tumblr won't let me tag some accounts): @oddball21 @kaymariesworld @bloommushroom @readingtheentrails @thegoddamnfeels @theonefairygodmother @theflashesoflove @sweetderacine @opalthefrog @gwensfreak @shyladyfan @erablaise-blog @bellatrixsbrat @sunnyanon @emilynissangtr @lex13cm @sugipla @hasthebaconinhispants @deongocrazy @nocteangelus15 @eveymay @one-pining-queer @azu-zu @niceminipotato @hopelessly-sapphic @barbarasstar @enchantressb @syrenacrainn @im-a-carnivorous-plant @willowshadenox @aemilia19 @ladylarissaweems @scarlettssub @ladysdraga @willisnotmental @gela123 @h-doodles @zillahofviolets-bayolet @weemssapphic @the-bearr @amateurwritescm

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[sleepy-writes-stuff]

DP X DC WRITING PROMPT #9

(An idea I had late last night when I should have been sleeping)

(#) = Notes at the end of post

(*) = Just me building off of other ideas

✦

Lost Children Saved by the Lost

After being rejected by his parents and almost captured for experimentation, Danny escapes into the Ghost Zone. He wanders listlessly for nobody knows how long. It could have been days, months, years, but he wouldn't know how much time had actually passed.

He missed his friends, his sister, hell even his bully. However, the longer he wandered, the more he began to forget their voices, their facial features. Everything. He couldn't even remember what his obsession was. He wandered so long that the only thing he remembered was the aching and devastating feeling of his parents rejection of half of himself.

Eventually growing bored of the neverending expanse of the Ghost Zone, he takes a random portal and winds up in the DC Universe. Although, not in modern times. He finds himself hundreds of years in the past but couldn't find it in himself to care.

At least until he hears the cries of a child in distress. He goes searching and finds a little boy, weeping while curled up on the filthy ground, begging for his parents. The boy was emaciated, clearly not having had food in a very long time. His core jolted and ached at the pitiful cries. Was this his obsession? What was he supposed to do?

He only hesitates for a moment before he approaches the crying boy.(1) The boy flinches at the movement of shadows before looking up to meet the aurora green eyes of a man made of starlight.

"Hello, little one." He greets softly, automatically speaking the boy's language he heard only moments before. (2) "What's wrong?"

The boy is quiet as he wearily examines the man before him. Long hair the color of snow illuminated by moonlight. Olive skin that seemed to have a blue tint to it. The pointed ears and the loose, black clothes that seemed to have the cosmos playing across them. The most striking of all the man's features, however, were the rays of blue-green light flowing from his back like the tails of comets racing across the night sky. Despite the light they exuded, the wings seemed to absorb the heat from the air, letting off a cool but pleasant temperature. (3) The boy gazed cautiously into the man’s eyes, looking past his odd features, and found only kindness as well as a strange, deep-seated sadness. No matter how his mind said no one can be trusted, his gut said the man meant no harm. He decided to respond to the strange man's question.

"My parents," he began, stopping to wet his painfully dry lips. "They don't have money for food. They left me here because I am too much of a burden to keep."

The boy looked down, avoiding the man's eyes as if ashamed. His words made the man's core ache even more than before, vague and foggy memories flashing briefly behind his eyes. His core pulsed in his chest, urging him to do something. He didn't know what exactly, so he simply said the first thing that came to mind.

"Now that won't do. How about we look for others who would take care of you instead?" He said as he gently picked up the small boy and carried him cradled in his arms. The boy stares up at him as the man walked with his head held high and looking forward.

"Who are you, mister?"

The man's eyes became clouded as he mulled over the question before answering, carefully measuring his words.

"I've long forgotten what my name was. It's been so long since anyone's called me by it." He said, with sadness coloring his tone. They walked in silence for a couple of seconds before the man seemed to brightened a little. He looked at the little boy with soft, green eyes and a smile. "Why don't you choose a name for me, little one?"

The boy gained a look of concentration as he took the request seriously. The man continued walking in silence as he let the boy think, eyes forward as he searched for a family to take the boy in. His core was tugging him towards one particular house, practically singing as he came to a stop in front of the door. (4) He leaned down to gently set the boy on his feet before he himself kneeled to the boy's level.

Hands on either side of the boy's face, he kissed the child's forehead. Silently, he placed a blessing on the boy, a faint glow that went unseen to mortal eyes. He wished for the boy to know true love and happiness. For his parent's abandonment to leave no scars on his mind or in his heart. With that, he stood up once again and knocked on the door.

"Goodbye, little one. I've done what I can." He said as he turned to walk away.

"Wait!" The boy called out. The man stopped and looked back with a curious light in his eyes, the stars on his clothes seeming to briefly brighten as well. Once the boy saw he had his attention again, he continued.

"I thought of a name for you. If you'd like to hear it?" He askes hopefully.

The starlit man smiled, before nodding. "I'd be happy to hear what you've come up with."

The boy brightened up before opening his mouth to speak once more, hurrying as he heard footsteps approaching from the other side of the door.

"What do you think of..." (5)

✦

Whelp. That was interesting.

Notes:

(1) Should the boy be an actual character that's established in the DC Universe or just a random child?

(2) When I thought of this, I was thinking Danny wound up somewhere in Ancient Rome. So, I think he'd be speaking Latin here.

(3) Comets are made of stardust and ice, which means they are also cold instead of hot. At least until they're warmed by the sun. I thought it was quite fitting, honestly. They also are often seen to give off a blue-green color! How cool it that? Ha!

(4) Danny's obsession is so ragged and starved after wandering for so long that it latches onto the first thing it could to give it a jumpstart. Protecting lost children (lost in one way or another) and leading them to families who would actually care for them. He is the one who urged Martha and Johnathan Kent to adopt Clark. He helps Billy Batson eventually find a forever home. This even plays a role in how Bruce meets each of the Robins. Jason will be the first and only child Danny ever fails to give a permanent home to because of Jason's feelings towards Bruce over his death. Danny adopt Jason?

(5) When I was thinking of what the boy would name him, I immediately gravitated to the names of stars, which seems pretty obvious considering how I described Danny here. Anyway, what I chose was Regulus because it's a blue-white star and the brightest one in the constellation Leo, also called the Lion's Heart. Not only that, but the Latin meaning of Regulus translates to "little king" or "prince". Not to mention it's also a common name among Saints. You don't have to use the name Regulus tho! Come up with anything you want to call him!

(*) Should Danny just be an immortal patron saint of orphans and lost children, or should he be upgraded to a patron God?

[imaginethezeldaverse]

Hi! Could I request a Ganondorf x fairy reader? Reader has always followed Ganondorf throughout time, and they are able to shift from a small fairy form to a human size fairy form!

Hope you having a wonderful day!

-the fairy anon 🧚‍♀️

Well hello, fairy anon! Please allow this fairy of fiction to fulfill your request! ✨ (I'm gonna make you a Great Fairy, but not exactly like the ones from BotW/TotK - you'll see what I mean)

To the naked eye, the small, zipping ball of light could easily be mistaken for a sunset firefly. Skittering around the desert may have been a little strange, but not wholly uncommon. For these facts, you were very grateful. On your tiny wings you flitted through the very open windows of top floor Gerudo bedchamber. You half expected it to be empty, a plan in mind to simply wait and surprise the person you'd planned on visiting - but fate would have other plans in store for you.

"To what do I owe the honor of a Great Fairy at my humble abode?" His tone was a mix of curious and cocky, with just a touch of threatening. With a quick spin, sparkles surrounded your body - and suddenly were a normal, human size. Rattling your wings gently to relieve them of any excess sand that clung to you, you simply made a sound akin to an interested huff. Your long lashes lifted to allow your sweetheart eyes to connect with fiery amber ones,

"Just stopped by to visit an old friend is all..." painted lips turned up in a minxish smile, "But then again...we weren't always only 'just friends' were we...Ganondorf?"

The Gerudo chief eyes you with suspicion, his originally smug expression faltering to something untrusting. You have information he clearly doesn't - a weakness that he doesn't like having exploited. Still, he approaches you, standing tall and wide to loom over your smaller frame. A full head taller than you are is he, yet that does not move you from where you stand. Peering down at you his voice evens out to a tone you can't read, "You speak as though you know me, sprite - but I don't recall ever knowing you."

There's a bitter chuckle in your throat, though you swallow it down. This is always the part you hated the most. You bit back a few oncoming tears, trying desperately to shrug away the hurt that hits you every time you hear an iteration of those same words. Ganondorf watches your eyes grow a tad misty, his brows furrowing at your sudden shift from your initially playful demeanor. "Not yet you don't," your wavering voice whispers up to him. You don't give him time to react, kissing the tips of your fingers and pressing them lightly to his forehead. Immediately Ganondorf jumps back from you, his head beginning to pound as visions bombarded him at full velocity.

"YOU!" he barks, pain swimming in his head. His vision flashes, your faye visage totally different now - soft green vines envelope the length of your body. He remembers vividly the fountain he'd always frequent to find you. Remembers the way your long nails felt against his scalp when his hair was much, much shorter than it is. He recalls sealing you away in a rage, the evil inside of him unable to fathom why you'd help the very person meant to be his downfall.

His skull throbs again, and suddenly he feels a salty breeze upon his face. He sees your iridescent skin, revels in the memory of how smooth you were against his ruggedness. He remembers telling you how much he'd missed you, and how the sea was lonely, but punishment in the sacred realm just without your reach was far lonelier. It comes back to him the nights spent watching the waves with you, your long illustrious locks floating about against the backdrop of the setting sun.

Once more the rush of pain stabs at his head, his visions swiftly reconnecting to a darker world. One surrounded in a shroud of twilight and deep hues of the chaos he had caused. He has your soft face in the palm of his hand - you look so scared - and yet you clung to him. He remembers promising you a new world at his side, you choose not to hear it. You've done this before - though he does not know this. Your big eyes brim with tears, but he brushes them away before they can fall. His memory jogs as he hears you tell him you love him, your luminous, opalescent wings flittering as your heart does. Ganondorf remembers sealing his lips over your own, pinning you to the nearest wall and etching a love on your skin that has transcended the many lifetimes he's lived already with you.

Suddenly the pain stops.

Ganondorf heaves, realizing he's been brought to his knees from this ordeal. His large hand clutches his head, thick fingers weaving through his long scarlet locks. There's a struggle to catch his breath, but he ultimately does as he blinks the scattered memories back into the confines of his mind. Lifting his head, he sees your tearful expression with all the recognition in the world. His steadying hand drops to his knee - he picks himself up. Heavy, thudding footsteps make their way toward you slowly, and judging by his hardened, blank expression, you're a bit fearful for what the sudden onset of several lifetimes' worth of memories could have done to him so you brace yourself - ready to transform and leave at a moment's notice.

You shut your eyes as he's suddenly in front of you, only for them to open once more. His hand caresses your cheek with complete tenderness, "You..." comes his strained voice. When your eyes meet, you see it: him. The Ganondorf who has loved you through every version of him that's existed. You lean into his hand, crystalline tears rolling down the gentle curves of your face, "Me..." Ganondorf wastes no time claiming your lips. A kiss that you very enthusiastically meet him halfway with. Before you know it, your legs are scooped up and wrapped around his waist, all while his lips are still connected to yours.

At your brief parting, Ganondorf lends you a genuine smile. He rests his forehead against your collarbone.

"You always know how to find me, my love. Faye of my heart, you've come back to me."

Arms coming around his head, you embrace him tight to your chest, "No length of time, nor change of your looks would ever keep me from finding you."

And you always would. You had found love once...with him. It made you thankful that you were blessed with eternal life; because although Hylia would strike him down at all costs; though you knew of the evil he truly was deep down; though you were sure the goddess would curse you for the atrocity of laying with her enemy - you would love him every time.

[marzipanandminutiae]

You probably meant artificial tans, but tanning is not the opposite of leaving your natural skin tone be

I don't particularly sunbathe, but I do live in a Mediterranean country. Even with SPF 50+ I start tanning in late april and lose my tan in approximately october. Unless I should not go out or near a window for half of the year, I cannot just leave my "natural" skintone be

Your winter skin tone is your only natural skin tone, IMO. And people should take steps to prevent it from changing- sunscreen with 2-hour reapplications (the intended use), parasols, hats, sun-protective clothing, etc. Even though they often went too far and did it for the wrong reasons- racism, colorism, classism, etc -our ancestors were unfortunately right about needing to take sun protection more seriously. Sometimes it's not just leaving it be, no- sometimes you have to proactively work to protect it. like brushing your teeth is not just leaving them be, but it's still your teeth's natural, healthy state

Like I said, tanning is literally skin damage. It's your skin producing more melanin to try and protect itself from the sun- which means the sun is causing DNA injury. (source) If it happens every year that doesn't make it any less harmful. I have very light-skinned friends in Australia who are able to avoid tanning, so it's clearly not impossible.

also dark-skinned people still need sun protection- melanoma is less likely to be caught early on dark skin, partially due to racist teaching practices among dermatologists, so PoC often have worse outcomes and higher mortality rates from it

My mother just had to have basal cell carcinoma removed from her upper lip. There was a huge hole in her face- the surgery to remove it, Mohs, involves cutting off pieces of tissue, testing them, and repeating until the test comes out clean. It takes hours and you're only under local anesthesia. You're awake the whole time and sometimes the doctor shows you what it looks like before they close the wound. Luckily she was able to get reconstructive surgery, but she's now insecure because her lip looks different- not bad, and she realizes that, but it's not the version of herself she was used to for 70 years. She now hates looking in mirrors. And this is the best-case scenario because she's. You know. Not Dead.

She hasn't tanned on purpose since she was in her early 20s (occasionally laid out by her parents' pool). She used sunscreen when I was growing up. But she didn't reapply after putting it on once, or employ any other form of sun protection. This isn't even her first brush with skin cancer; just the first on her face that required reconstruction.

No method is foolproof; I have freckles on parts of my body that never see the sun, and though they look benign, things can still happen. And of course you should go outside and enjoy the outdoors as much as you like, with appropriate precautions; I'm not trying to stress anyone out. you don't have to wear those full-face UV masks or anything

But. I don't know. I take this very seriously because I do NOT want to go through what my mother- and her mother before her, actually -went through. It seems like all the evidence shows that any amount of skin darkening from your winter shade, caused by UV light, is dangerous. The precautions seem so easy and minor to me compared to the risk that I just don't understand why anyone wouldn't take them- besides maybe sensory issues, and there are ways around even that

(personally I wear SPF 50 on all exposed skin and reapply every two hours or when I'm about to go back outside for longer than like 10 minutes, if I've been indoors all day. I also use a parasol when the sunlight is strong, plus sunglasses, a long skirt, and long sleeves in a natural-fiber fabric up to like 85 degrees Fahrenheit. then again, I also just don't LIKE being outside in the sun very much- I love going for long walks and being outdoors if it's overcast and/or cold, but warm sunny days are not my thing. and my clothing style is Victorian GothicTM, so it's easy to adapt for sun protection. YMMV)

(and no, I am not Vitamin D deficient that I'm aware of)

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Is it just me or has the card illustrations (specifically the groovy) been kinda bad lately? Like don't get me wrong most of the pre groovy are absolute bangers, but the groovies? Not so much. But lately there has been an obvious decrease in quality with anatomy, and even 😐 a whitewashing problem.

Take Lilia's dorm groovy for example— the piece is gorgeous, but whenever I zoom into his face the way they draw his face looks so off.

As for the whitewashing issue, I've noticed that Leona's beastly garb groovy had him very ashy looking (but some may argue that it's just the lighting casted on him)

Right now though the one that's been bothering me the most is the obvious whitwashing on Kalim's tsum groovy. We really can't argue that it's a lighting issue there, cause Jamil's firework card had a similar setting and he didn't look that light.

Personally, I think TWST’s Groovy illustrations have always been hit or miss since the beginning. I have similar issues with the faces in Lilia and Leona’s Dorm Uniform Groovies, and the anatomy seemed slightly off in a few others. I can’t find the original post anymore (I think OP didn’t tag it??), but I clearly recall an artist having spoken about how the pose in Epel’s initial Dorm Uniform art looked weird; they included drawings of how Epel’s spine and limbs looked vs how they should look to illustrate what they meant. Those are just a few examples of then and now though, and we have to keep in mind that if we include ALL available cards then the funky faces and weird posing/proportions only make up a very small percentage of what’s out there.

The more important issue at the moment is the coloring choices that were made for a few recent SSR event Groovies: Beastly Garb Leona and Tsumsted Kalim. They are pictured below with a few other card illustrations I pulled that have similar lighting (or as similar as I could find). You’ll notice (especially for Tsumsted Kalim’s Groovy) that the characters’ skin colors are much lighter than they should be.

Now I’ll be honest here 💦 I actually can’t tell (even when eyedropping the colors to compare; I don't even know if eyedropping is an accurate way to compare colors since the lighting and environment in every illustration is never EXACTLY the same) if Leona’s Beastly Garb Groovy is just the strong sunlight or if it has been whitewashed. I don’t have enough knowledge and/or experience with color theory and in real life to know for certain. However, as the Anon has said, that same argument cannot be made for the Scarabia duo. It’s particularly bad for Tsumsted Kalim because Yasmina Silk Jamil also had fireworks in the background, and his skin color is fine there. Sometimes artists purposefully use an altered color palate to achieve a different feeling in their pieces (for example, pastel colors for a soft, soothing look). I don’t think that was the case for Tsumsted Kalim because everything else in the Groovy art looks pretty true to color for the lighting (but again, I'm not an expert in coloring so I could be wrong). When taken in conjunction with Leona’s Beastly Garb… it could indicate a troubling pattern.

There’s been a lot of speculation going around for why this has happened, chief among that speculation being the TWST team has likely hired new staff and/or colorists (and Japan, being Japan, is pretty homogenous; it may be difficult to find artists with an understanding of how to color and shade darker skin tones). Again, these are just guesses circulating in the fandom. Nothing is confirmed, and nor does this excuse what has happened.

This has, very understandably, caused a lot of hurt and upset in the TWST fandom and community. So now the question is…

What can we do about it?

You can communicate your feelings to the TWST team! They have a form to collect thoughts and opinions from the playerbase, which can be accessed here.

PLEASE NOTE:

Be polite and professional. Nothing good comes out of anger, especially if the anger is directed at others; if you are rude and/or curse at the staff, they will be much less likely to hear you out.

Communicate in Japanese. The staff you are sending your complaint to are Japanese, and the game itself is Japanese (Beastly Garb Leona and Tsumsted Kalim are not yet out in the EN server, which is staffed by totally different people).

If you don’t know how to write in Japanese, this Twitter user has created polite templates to communicate our concerns with the whitewashing. (Their whole thread is great; please reference it if you need additional assistance!!) I would not recommend adding extra text, especially if you would be relying on a translation program to do so. Speaking in broken Japanese can be perceived as rude and will only detract from your message.

A similar situation to this occurred during the initial run of Fairy Gala; TWST had used “exotic” in its text, and after receiving an influx of feedback from the players, the devs went in and changed the dialogue to no longer use the term. It’s possible to make the change we want to see a reality if we respectfully make our thoughts known.

[xmorguekittyx]

Ever Unlocked

Part 2: Caution to the Wind

Part 1: Grey Skies and Blue Eyes

pairing: Officer!Leon Kennedy x Coroner’s Assistant!Reader

no use of y/n or names

warnings: Leon has some small dirty thoughts about reader. not anything to really worry about this chapter, we’re slowly building up to the darker themes.

as Leon pulled up to her apartment, a shitty, two toned, plain looking building. He let out a sigh, the squeak of the windshield wipers the only sound as her breath was near caught in her throat. "tha-", "wel-", their voices mingled in the warm air, thanks to Leon's Jeeps air conditioning.  a soft smile fell on her lips while Leon's wide eyes stayed on her, an eager pull to his lips. "you first.", his words were sweet and soft, nearly as quiet as the air conditioner. "i was going to say thank you.", she let a breath release from her tense chest, "for the ride and your time.", a look of awe as lightening danced across the sky, lighting up the two.

In the quick light, she could see his hair stuck to his forehead from the walk to the car, blonde strands twisted and plastered to his tan skin. "it's- it's no problem. an honor- really.", he shifted, his hand running through those darkened locks, causing a drop of water to fall down his cheek. "to drive a pretty girl like you home.", a shaky breath left his wet lips, slick with spit from his tongue darting across them. her cheeks lit up, almost unbearingly hot. gaze dropping instantly. Her feet tapped softly, the bottles of gatorade in the floorboard nearly making her laugh. "do you want-", "i meant-", laughter filled the car as they spoke over each other once more. "do you want to come inside?", she didn't know why she was asking, he was a coworker- someone she saw nearly daily and felt... odd around.

She was inviting him inside? Leon's smile tilted, his eye squinting while the other remained wide in a 'why would you ask that?' way. "sure.", he nodded, looking back at his uniform pants, fingers on the keys, causing them to jingle as he cut the vehicle off. Did she not realize how dangerous that was? They'd just seen each other in passing. Then again, accepting his ride, had he been anyone but his sweet, caring self, would've also been a mistake. Did this girl not realize the situations she was possibly putting herself in? Sure, Leon had watched her, possibly for longer than she realized, her eyes reflecting the lightening as Leon stared at her. Pupils moving around as she thought, he wanted to know what about, was she thinking about him? was she finally piecing together that he really was, at the end of the day, a stranger.

———

Her fingers moved to the door knob as she twisted it, she didn't have to unlock her door, she wasn't a worrier, she trusted those who lived around her. She was insane, Leon had figured, who was so trusting that they accepted rides, offered people into her home and left the door unlocked. "you don't lock your door?", Leon asked, his head tilting as he walked through the threshold.  "no- i trust everyone on this floor and sometimes Mrs. Jones will drop off some of her cooking for me.", she admitted as she placed her purse down on the counter, her apartment was very... her... it was cozy and warm- inviting - too much so. How could she just tell him that, that crucial piece of information about her life? "you just trust nobody will steal from you, come in while you're gone?", Leon couldn't help but press as his eyebrows furrowed.

Her shoulders rolled slightly, shaking out the stiffness as she wiped the rain from her face. "i haven't had any issues yet.", she was either very, very naïve or she was stupid. Leon wasn't sure which was the truth, she had gotten a job at RPD so clearly she wasn't stupid. She was just innocent and good natured, the world didn't deserve that. She didn't understand how dangerous it was out there, but Leon did. His family having been murdered when he was younger- he knew how nasty it was. He knew how human nature could become deranged so quickly, human nature was so quick to flip a switch. Someone so kindhearted could kill- someone so chivalrous could stab you in the back in a moment.

Maybe that's why Leon found himself staring daggers into her. How could she be so fucking naïve?  "Are you thirsty?", she asked, her head lulling over her shoulder to get a good look at him. in an instant the glare was gone, swapped with a smile that made her feel like there were butterflies in her stomach. "do you have any tea?", he couldn't help but have his mind racing as he stared down at the girl in front of him. How fucking naïve could she be? It wasn't something he wanted to think about, what if some creep wanted to break in? What if someone hurt her. He could feel his eyes widening, training on her form. Hands reached up to open the cabinet, presumably holding mugs.

If she had turned around, she'd see Leon's perturbed stare, it irked him. How could she act as if her life wasn't in danger, because it was. In Leon's mind, she was always in danger. She lived in a relatively shitty end of town. Far from his apartment, he lived on the North side of town, near the college and bustling streets. She lived in the nearly dark side of town, hell, Raccoon City didn't even care to put many street lamps on this side of town. South side was always the place crime happened, it's where those increase in bodies had started, a few gang related incidents and some drug deals gone wrong. Did she realize how much danger was outside her doorway every day, the door she left practically open, inviting anything in?

Her hands pulled at the creaky cabinet doors, reaching for two mugs. "do you prefer any certain kind? i have many.", her eyes went to him, she knew he was acting a little off. He hadn't really acted the same as the station. People were different out side of work, she knew that. She was. Leon was just... "i'm okay with anything.", his hands slipped into his pockets, eyes dancing around the apartment. It wasn't the most decorated, nor was it going to be the cleanest. Throw pillows sat on the couch, she had a candle or two out, burnt down to the middle. Leon couldn't help but be more intrigued. He wanted to know more about the girl who seemed to throw caution to the wind.

"it's a....", his word droned on as she filled up the kettle, the water running over his words. "shitty?", she offered, a smile on her lips in amusement. "well- i wasn't-", he tried to cover up, trying to not offend the girl he just got to be near. "i'm fucking with you, Kennedy.", she giggled, fingers turning on the burner as she placed the metal kettle on the eye. "it's a shit hole- i know.", her hands rested on her biceps, crossing her arms over her chest. She watched as Leon took in her apartment, the decor and photos around. "you see anything that peaks your interest?", she was curious what else he would say. He was so awkward it was almost funny. "yeah...", he smirked, it looked cute on him, not douch-y as it did on most men. "you.", his cheeks flushed at his own flirt. Then, it was hurt urn to be flustered, her eyes nearly falling from their sockets. "me?", she breathed slowly, her teeth biting into the flesh of her bottom lip. "i'm fucking with you.", he used her own words against her. He meant it, but he didn't want to move too quickly, he was known to speak without thinking, girls found him awkward and too eager. He tried to reel back a little, not realizing how it looked to her. Kitty wished he hadn't been 'fucking' with her. "well played.", she laughed, hearing the whistle of the tea kettle, causing her to jump slightly. "shit-!", she hissed, quickly turning off the eye and pulling the kettle off the eye and pouring the steaming water into the respective cups. Before, she added in two bags of peppermint tea to them.

"we'll let it steep.", she spoke, her hands bouncing the bags, holding the paper ends. Leon watched as she did so... she was so domestic. Leon's apartment barely had anything in it. She had hers filled, cluttered in a well lived in way. Part of him was curious what her bedroom looked like. It was a good thing you could read people on, but what bothered him the most was the unlocked door. He couldn't get over that, he wondered how much more careless she could be. His head moved, looking towards the back of her apartment, a small hallway, two rooms on either side and then a door at the very end. "it's a cozy place, i didn't mean anything by it.", he felt the need to let her know he appreciated how welcoming she was, even if it found it astonishing that she'd let a man- someone who could easily over power her in her own home, into her safe space.

"its.. a shithole.", her hair fell over those big eyes, hands holding both mugs as she walked towards her couch. Leon's eyes followed up her legs, to her ass. her pencil skirt hugged her hips so perfectly. the way she swayed her hips and bent down to place the mugs in the corkboard coasters. He felt his dick twitch in his pants. slit brushing against the zipper, causing a small hiss to leave his lips. "you okay?", her head was turned back to look at him, her body still bent, the skirt tight over her plump ass. Leon stifled a groan, his eyes fighting to stay open and off of the black rippled fabric, there's no way she couldn't tell that her skirt was hugging her ass tightly. "i'm okay.", he had a slight whine to his tone, a huff of air leaving his throat as he moved his hands over his crotch, crossing them. "just a little thirsty is all.", the curtains over her sink window now becoming very... very interesting to him. His adams' apple bobbed, holding back saliva.

"tea's ready.", she knew something was happening, her eyes going down to his crossed hands, "you don't have to be nervous. I don't mind you being here.", it was almost cute how innocent she was. Leon also felt bad. How could he think of someone to cure like this. Imagining sliding that tight fabric over the plump of her- "Leon.", her voice broke his impure thoughts. "the sink really that interesting?", she crossed her arms, bottom lip slightly jutted out in a unconscious pout. "right, sorry.", his face flushed, an itch in the back of his esophagus starting up as his fingers brushed over the skin on his neck. "i zoned out there.", he explained it away.

"right...", she had a squinted look, her eyes tense as she watched him. Something- something wasn't right with him, she was sure, maybe it all amounted down to his nerves. Leon wasn't the most gracious in front of girls. She'd noticed then Jill spoke to him, his cheeks pink and eyes moving around anywhere but her. She'd found it cute at the time, but Leon was a grown man who, at least she assumed, wouldn't be that shy.

To anyone else, Leon was a nice man, he'd walk you to your car, help you with anything you asked him for. Give the shirt off his back. His eyes had picked up on her suspicions, he wasn't sure what she had made up in her mind about him, but he knew she was starting to act a bit different. A bit more cautious if he did say so himself. "i'm going to change, if that's okay?", she whispered, her eyes not leaving his. "that's fine. I'll just sit here and enjoy this tea you made.", lips curled back as his finger hooked the handle of the mug. it was cute, little cat motifs across the sides. "y-yeah-", her voice was airy, her hand wrapped around her midriff as she stepped back. "enjoy, i've got cookies in the cabinet too if you want any.", she offered, what a sweet girl.

As she walked into her bedroom, Leon leaned back, his back pressed deep into the couch cushion. His head tilted towards those 3 doors in the hallway. He didn't mean to be so nosey, but catching the purple bed spread and the open window from the closing door. He knew he had to be.