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#I think it’s a wonderful cuisine
miserye · 3 months
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I want to take Kat out on a date to try Indian food
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pronouncingitwang · 1 year
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#truly no faster way to make me so so ill than the seol and the seolite diaspora DE tag on ao3. not in a bad way not in a good way either#also last week i hung out w a friend i hadn't seen in a while and we joked about diaspora lit bingo a lot#but yeah idk. the way my sister is reconnecting w her asianness through like. kdramas/cdramas and kpop etc#the way i only have about 4 chinese language songs liked on spotify and they're like#one from the CRA soundtrack two bc i looked up an artist whose photos were on tumblr and who i found hot#and one from my white roommate who's learning mandarin#and i wonder if my parents are like. so bummed that we ignored them and made fun of their shows and music and accents as elementary schoole#and now they see her doing this and me. idk. claiming POCness via something i never engaged with in a way i find satisfactory#or idk. the whole immigrant parents being your passports to your language/culture and once they die it's game over#ESP bc you only ever took enough chinese classes to graduate hs or college no more#and kim kitsuragi is suchhhhhhh an interesting look at that bc like. he is an orphan and he does have zero cultural or language ties to seo#like. he would absolutely dannyamericanbornchinese himself if he could#and i want him to reconnect like i imagine him reconnecting w being asian and it causes feelings of comfort and such in me#but like. he shouldn't have to obviously and#one of the notes of a fic in that tag is from a biracial person who says#I flip between wish fulfillment and scrutinizing the degree Kim 'needs' to reclaim his heritage#and like yeah. yeah. that thing#and idk i don't think there's a distinct chinese-american culture the way that chinese-american cuisine is like. A Thing you know#maybe i'd feel better if there was that#and if there was just one other seolite person in disco elysium but i think kim's racial isolation is purposeful#what is there for me but to idk. reread the joy luck club and have another crisis about it#personal
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an-asuryampasya · 1 year
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huh. I always associated chick peas with Mediterranean cooking more than any other cuisine - including my own - but then wiki tells me in 2019, India was responsible for 70% of global chickpea production.
which, huh.
something something numebrs REALLY add up even if it's a small fraction of a big number vs large fraction of a small number. a very basic concept but one I keep relearning somehow.
#also WHY are there so many different kinds of chickpea and pea all with similar names#it is UNFAIR because i absolutely love some of them but the naming conventions are so inconsistent (or i dont pay enough attention) and ARG#that's how i end up in a conversation with a friend about:#two different dishes which have the same name (but VERY different recipes and tastes)#both made with ingredients called the same thing (but VERY different in texture and taste)#both made in the same city (but in VERY different cuisines)#it was. Some conversation alright akfkshg#anyway now i'm wondering if my assumption above is a south indian/north indian thing because now that i think about it#every chana (chickpea) dish i think of (except one) is north indian#so maybe me thinking it doesn't factor too highly in indian cuisine - despite how much i love it - is because it doesn't factor much#in /telugu/ cuisine#and that one southern dish might've been my mum making a bastardised curry while experimenting (it was good tho)#(related: negative version of a shout out to the time she made apple pickle and it was SWEET I will never get over that)#(by pickle i mean the spicy stuff not pickled onions kinda pickle)#(yeah with APPLES)#that was one experiment we never saw repeated akfhkhsfg#anyway rhys if youre seeing this muri mixture with batani supremacy etc etc#OH wait nvm i take back that thing about chana not ranking high in telugu cuisine#because it is SUCH a common and important part of some kinds of tambulam and that's very Telugu i think#so mhmmm idk why i feel chana is a foreign introduction to telugu culture#also how do i translate what a tambulam is#uhh it's party favours‚ except it's not a party as much as a get together for cultural reasons and is a VERY common occurrence#sort of?#idk man I'm already very bad at cultural stuff and even worse at explaining my half knowledge because idk????#i know if i am given a tambulam but idk when all it's given#anyway i've completely lost the plot by now so uh#that concludes this post#placeholder tag
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faesdreaming · 6 months
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Yandere Fae - Temptation
he just wants to know your name, that’s all. he promises.
tw: yandere themes, possessive behaviour, reader is lowkey okay with it, implied murder, unhealthy relationships, stockholm syndrome (?)
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“Come now, darling,” he croons, so very sweetly, “it’s just a name. I promise I won’t tell.”
He leans his cheek against your arm, gazing up pleadingly. You sigh as you feel your resolve waver. He— the fae— Lucian, he says his name is but you don’t know if he’s telling the truth.
Fae can’t lie, you’d been told as a child. The people of your town nary spoke of the faekind, save in warning tales. They’d told of weaknesses, of iron and salt. Lies. Falsehoods born from ignorance. Fae could lie, could weave truths of honeyed poison sweeter than any ambrosia. One thing you did know was not to tell one your name. Your grandmother had told you. She was the same woman who warned you of the dangers, who thwarted the ignorant claims of the fellow villagers
“Please.” Lucian all but whines. You can’t help but giggle in amusement. For such a powerful creature, he’s acting as though he were a puppy. “It’s just a name.”
But it’s not just a name. Name’s are powerful. They hold history, stories, one’s very being. So, you’ll refuse him once more. “I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?” Lucian tilts his head. The slightest hint of venom tinges his tone. His slit pupils are dilated double their size, like a predator catching sight of its prey. “Tell me your name.”
Lucian’s been persistent in his efforts. Ever since you moved into a cottage deep within the forest. Unable to bear the repetitive, noisy life of your village, you left. He’s been following you ever since you moved in. He’s bound, tethered to the place. To the land. Through magical means you don’t understand. Lucian adores pestering you with questions, and inane conversation, that you’ve grown to enjoy. But above all else, he seems determined to get your name. Not that you plan to give it to him.
He makes a frustrated noise, a pout forming on his lips. “You’re so stubborn.” Lucian complains. “Just tell me. I won’t tell anyone else, I swear.”
Liar, you think fondly, It’s cute, really, the effort he puts in.
Biting your lip, you briefly contemplate your sanity. Should others find themselves in this situation they wouldn’t be as calm. They’d panic. You should panic. You should probably run for the hills. For it’s not his status as a fae that forebodes danger. He’s— Lucian is complex.
The good-natured mask he wears is just that. A mask. One he wears for you. Your relationship with Lucian is multilayered. Surface level, it is a give and take. What he gives and what you take remains unclear. Surface level, you’re companions. But that implies trust. You don’t trust him. You’re smart enough not too.
“I’m heading out to town.” You tell him. “To the market.”
Lucian huffs. He storms off like a petulant child, intelligibly whining and a pout on his face. You roll your eyes. Gathering a basket and pulling on a cloak, you step out of the cottage. The way to town isn’t marked by a path. You memorize trees and large stones. Landmarks. You trek through the woodlands, thoughts of Lucian occupying your mind.
You hold a certain fondness for him. For the little game you two indulge in. It’s an odd affection, a tired, old one. He makes you cook for him, bemoaning your atrocious mortal cuisine as he eats all of it. He follows you around the cottage with seemingly no concept of personal space. He lingers around you, as if he were a ghost and you his haunt. He entertains you. With tall-tales spun from silk. He offers you gifts in the form of odd trinkets, flowers, nuts, sometimes gems.
Lucian perplexes you. Because despite the casualness of your relationship, you’d be a fool to not be aware of the power imbalance in between the two of you. There’s something dark, dangerous. An ancient, primal magic tethering him to the cottage. To you.
You shake off your wonderings as you reach a clearing. Down, to the left is a quaint little town. It’s sparsely populated, everyone knows everyone, at least everyone who inhabits the area. Locals are wary of travellers, yet they are not so foolish to deny potential patrons business. Their market, tavern, and inn are what’s to be expected of a place such as this. It’s sufficient for your needs, though. Far be it for you to complain.
You stop by the market, examining items being sold by the vendors. As you take an apple in hand, trying to determine whether the produce is worth it’s price, a hand reaches by you. Curiously, you sneak a glance to the person it belongs to.
You’re met with the appearance of a rugged, rogue. Weary from his travels, if you’d have to guess. He gives you half-grin half-smirk that makes your insides flutter. Normally, you’d offer him a flirtatious smile. Perhaps he’d ask to take you out for the night, to the tavern. You’d drink sweet mead and suggest stopping at an inn for the night. Spend it together. Alas, the sanctity of your normal ended upon your meeting with Lucian.
“‘Scuse me, love,” he says, voice a rough timbre. It’s so different than Lucian’s smooth, honeyed lilt. You like it. “You ain’t from ‘round here, eh?”
You nimbly step aside, appreciating the view. You should leave, you know the consequences if you stay. “No.” You tell him. “I live a little ways away.”
He smiles at that. A small little grin that’s almost a smirk. What a dangerous thing, he is. He starts chatting you up. You know what he wants from you and you’re quite certain he knows what he wants from you. You should be beyond such inhibitions— but it’s been so very long since you’d indulged in a bit of fun. So you let him take you back to his inn, slip something in his beer so when he’s done and your sated, he’ll slip right off. The moment he does, you slink away, trekking through the woods back home. Most people wouldn’t, scared of the dangers lurking. But the forest knows that the true danger resides within your home, guaranteeing your safety.
The moment you make it back, Lucian appears, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Entertaining night?”
His tone is frigid and cold, almost the same as his usual indifference. But you know him better than that. “Very.” You hum. “And yet, I’m here with you.”
“Yet you’re here with me.” He parrots. The shift in his demeanour is almost imperceptible, a change so subtle it appears meaningless. You watch as he slinks away, the satisfaction of his tone lingering throughout your mind. The affirmation, to both him and you, that you were here. That you came crawling back to him. That the pull, the tether he held on your being remained tight as ever.
That you were—
Not his. You were still your own being. You let out a shaky sigh and head up to bed. You’ve had too much to drink, you tell yourself. The next morn, when you awaken, groggily blinking, something immediately feels off. After living like this— after living with him— for so long, you’ve come to understand to trust your intuition while ignoring the warning bells ringing in your head.
You head down the stairs. Your body is heavy from your hang over. It dulls your senses. You know you need to be on guard, lest Lucian have his way. Speak of the devil, you muse, as he leans on the kitchen island smugly. “Rough night?”
“Don’t.” You warn, grabbing a pot and filling it with water to boil. Lician laughs. His laughter sharp and smooth. “Forgive me, lovely.” He croons. “I do not intend to rouse that temper of yours.”
You eye him suspiciously. Of course, you’re always suspicious in regards to him, but this behaviour is odd. Odder than usual. He usually demands you cook for him, asks for your name, then huffs when you rebuff him. It’s routine and Lucian isn’t one for breaking routine. You rake over his handsome, pointed features. He sports an usual grin. Self-satisfied and almost victorious. Then, you spot a crimson splatter along the underside of his throat.
“Is there something wrong, lovely?” He inquires, tilting his head almost as if to show you the blood stained on his neck.
Don’t give in. Don’t pay attention to it. You learned early on giving in only worsens his behaviour. “No.” You answer firmly. You avoid his question, evasive and ignorant. Your ignorance serves as a shield. “I ought to make something, barely ate yesterday.”
Lucian’s eyes flicker with both annoyance and pleasure. “Make me some too.” He orders, before sauntering off.
It sends a shiver down your spine, your compliance. Barely able to deny him, yet unable to give into him. It irks him. It also pleases him. It’s a game between the two of you. One neither of you can quit. You tow the line each time, out of selfishness. The desire to be free. To be as it was. It ends in his possessive fits, with blood shed, staining your hands crimson. Yet you continue. His attention is intoxicating. As addicting as mead. It drives you mad, tantalizes you, taunts you. But you don’t give in fully. Can’t. At least, not yet.
“Come now, lovely. I know you wish to fall into temptation with me.”
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yaksha-lover · 11 months
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Malleus believes for a long time that one day he’ll be the last of his family. Once his grandmother passes away, he’ll be a Draconia truly and finally alone in the world.
The house of Draconia has ruled Briar Valley for thousands and thousands of years. Every part of the castle he’s grown up in tells the stories of his ancestors. The portraits that line the halls paint a powerful line of dragon fae.
Sometimes Malleus would catch his grandmother staring at the latest family portrait. The ones that came before it are certainly much more full of life: parents and children, brothers and sisters, cousins and grandparents.
The latest one had been painted a few years ago, his grandmother had insisted on it. In the throne room, he sat together with her. The emptiness of it was striking against the portrait from a couple generations ago, the coldness contrasting with the liveliness his family used to have.
The portrait just before his own is of his parents. He’s heard stories about them from Lilia and from his grandmother, but it’s difficult for him to really imagine them. He wonders if they’d be proud of him, someone feared but not loved, while they were both.
His grandmother has tried to keep some of their traditions alive. He wonders if she’s losing hope that no one will love him enough to continue this legacy.
It was for her sake that Malleus learned the ancient fae language that only his grandmother still speaks. The two of them are able to converse, but he knows it’s only a matter of time before there is no one left in the world who will be able to understand him.
It catches him off guard one day when you request him to teach you some words in this language. This was when he hadn’t known you long, before he could have anticipated the role you would play in his life. It was the first surprise, but certainly not the last.
When you kissed him for the first time during a meeting with the gargoyle studies club, he’d been thankful, for once, that you two were the only members.
Your latest surprise was your request to visit Briar Valley. He’d assume you’d, understandably, be quite intimidated to visit his castle. That perhaps he’d have to persuade you to stay with him over the holidays. Even Lilia had be surprised, although he recovered quickly enough to tease you. You refused to shy away, gushing to his guardian about your excitement to visit his homeland.
He’ll never forget the look on his grandmother’s face when you greeted her in her native language. She was surprised at first, looking back and forth between the two of you, before hugging you as soon as you stood up from your bow. She’d ignored your words of ‘Mrs. Draconia’ and pleaded with you to call her Maleficia.
It turned out, he was not the only dragon fae you were able to charm. Over the winter break, you’d become closer to his grandmother than he could’ve imagined. It seemed she admired your fearless and evident care for him. He wondered for a moment if you were the grandchild she’d always wanted.
Before he can think too long, you are quick to pull him into the dining hall, where his grandmother already sits at the table. She teaches you about all of the traditional Briar Valley cuisine being served, and you rave about it’s deliciousness. When you notice his quietness, you grab his hand under the table and squeeze, quickly drawing him into the conversation.
“You are awfully curious about these dishes, my dear,” his grandmother teases you. “Do you plan on returning to Briar Valley after this?”
“Of course! I’ll have to know all about these dishes if we’re going to make them for our children!”
His grandmother laughs for the first time in forever, while you and him both flush. It seems even you were embarrassed over this statement, but it makes him smile.
“Then I will teach you, my love. Our children will not be subject to Lilia’s cooking.”
That night, Malleus dares to hope that he will not be the last of his kind.
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godslino · 24 days
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HARD LAUNCH | minho drabble. established relationship.
“Do you guys have french fries?”
“Minho.” you hiss, nudging his shin beneath the table.
He cocks an eyebrow before turning back to the waitress. She smiles softly, laughing at the two of you. 
“We do, yes.” 
“Wonderful,” Minho grins, “We’ll have a side order of those too.”
“Perfect. I’ll put that in for you guys and check back soon.” The waitress says happily, collecting the menus and scurrying off to tend to another table.
As soon as she’s out of earshot, you groan, covering your face with your hands. 
“Why would you do that?” 
Minho chuckles, shakes his head probably. You wouldn’t know since you can’t see him.
“Do what?”
Still using one hand to cover your eyes, you pull the other away, pointing an accusatory finger in his direction. “I told you I’d be fine. Why’d you have to ask for french fries? That’s so embarrassing.”
Minho hums. Unbothered. “You know what’s worse?”
“Literally nothing.” you mumble, returning your other hand to your face. It only serves to muffle your voice more. “This is humiliating. We’re in a nice restaurant and you ordered french fries because of me. Oh God. I’m going to hide in the bathroom.”
A good choice, you think. Minho’s in god damn slacks for crying out loud. Every second that passes is another second that your pity order of french fries is probably spending in the deep fryer, right next to the lobster tail and shrimp tartar that everyone else has a mature enough palate to eat. 
Before you can move to get up and make a beeline for the toilet, you feel Minho’s fingers wrap around your wrists, pulling until your hands give way to your face. You crack one eye open and then the other, his amused expression coming into view.
“What’s worse than ordering french fries is me knowing you’ll be hungry if there isn’t something familiar for you on the table.” he says pointedly, like your reason for feeling embarrassed is unnecessary. “Besides, who said I didn’t want any?”
“Min, look around,” you say, turning your head to glance at the room, “The napkins are cloth. Cloth! Nicer than my bed sheets. We can’t be seen eating french fries in a place like this. I told you I’d be—”
“—fine. Because as long as you’re here I can do anything.” Minho recites, word for word, cutting you off. 
Heat rushes to your cheeks immediately, spreads like wildfire when Minho smiles and leans on to his forearms. His button up tightens over his shoulders, hugs his arms, sleeves rolled up to the elbow.
“Just like how you’re doing this for me, let me do something for you.” 
You and Minho have been seeing each other for four months now, but even at that, you’re still not used to his straightforwardness. 
Seeing Minho has been nothing short of a dream. What started as just interacting at parties because of mutual friends eventually gave way to him asking for your number, and then hanging out separate from your friend group, until one day he plucked up the courage to ask you out. Since then, the two of you have been inseparable, always spending every free moment together. Laughing, talking, even sometimes just existing in the same space. It’s nice. So, so nice.
“Shouldn’t I be the one blushing right now?” Minho teases.
“Shut up.” you say, tearing your gaze away from him.
He laughs again before reaching out and placing a hand on top of yours. Soft. Minho is unbelievably soft.
It’s the thing you love the most about him. But more than that, more than the delicate skin of his fingers or the brush of his lips against yours, you love the softness of his eyes.
Minho is hard to crack, his emotions shrouded most of the time. Not that he wants to be, but because that’s just how he operates, or so you’ve learned. 
But despite all of that, his eyes are a dead giveaway. When he’s looking at pictures of his cats, or staring at you from across the room, or right now as steaming plates of some of the finest cuisine Seoul has to offer are being placed in front of him.
“Holy shit.” he whispers, staring in awe as the waitress walks away from the table.
“Is it rude for me to take a picture? Like, would anyone get offended?” 
Minho scoffs. “Babe, I would be offended if you didn’t document this right now.”
“Okay, okay,” you laugh, pulling out your phone.
“Do I get to be in it this time?”
You look up to find Minho pouting across the table. Another thing about your relationship— nobody knows yet. 
You’ve been teasing about the possibility of a boyfriend for two months now, you and Minho only having made it official about a few weeks ago. The most anyone has been able to see are carefully positioned photos where only his hand or other inconspicuous parts of him are visible.
It’s not that you don’t want people to know. It’s just hard with his job and all. Privacy reasons.
"For someone who likes to claim that people won't give me a hard time because of your fame you sure do seem eager to test that theory."
Minho smiles mischievously. “Well, yes. But I’m also waiting because I want to show you off.”
You busy yourself with opening your camera app to stop the heat creeping up your neck. “Yeah, yeah. You big flirt.”
Minho laughs but obliges, scoots back to let you get a good few pictures of the food. 
Photos aren’t enough to do it justice, though. So you opt for a video, scanning the table with your camera, only the bottom half of his torso visible across the table. A silk white button up only three-fourths of the way buttoned, sleeves rolled to his elbows.
Minho watches silently, his face unreadable. And then, at the last second, he dips his head down so fast you don’t even realize what’s happening until his face is fully in the shot, a shit-eating grin pushing his eyes into crescent moons.
“Min!” you laugh, ending the recording. 
He chuckles, straightening back out. “Post it.”
“Are you insane?”
“No, but I’m going to be if you don’t post it and then eat with me.” He nudges the plate of french fries towards you. “Come on.”
“You really want me to post it? You’re sure?”
Minho smiles. Soft. “Never been more sure about anything in my life.” he says, neither of you willing to address the weight of his words.
He grabs your hand, plants a kiss on the back of your knuckles. The resulting flip of your stomach is enough to give you the courage to hit post and tuck your phone away.
Whatever happens, you’ll deal with it later. Together.
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the-offside-rule · 3 months
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Charles Leclerc (Scuderia Ferrari) - Friends?
Requested: yes
Prompt: 18) "My mom thinks we're dating."
Warnings: not really? Just fluff tbh
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Charles nervously led Y/n into his family's vacation home, where his parents and siblings eagerly awaited. "You stay here every year for the summer break and you never invited me?!" Y/n exclaimed, looking all around as Charles carried her suitcase in. "I thought you didn't like the whole glamour of Monaco." He teased. "That was before I saw your holiday home." She chuckled. Y/n couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and confusion, having been invited on this family vacation without much explanation. "We're all going to have dinner at around 8 so I will leave you to unpack. I have to go help my mum with the cooking."
"Can I come? I haven't seen your mum in ages!" Charles swallowed the lump in his throat, earning a concerned look from Y/n. "What did you do?" She interrogated. "What? Nothing! I've done nothing!" Charles replied in an attempt to defend himself. "So why are you suddenly being so....unlike yourself?" He shrugged. "I'm not sure. Maybe you've changed since she saw you last? I-"
"Y/n!" Charles stopped his talking as he heard his mother Pascale entering the room. Y/n's bright smile returned to her face as she spotted the wonderous woman walking towards her with open arms. "Oh, I've been waiting for Charles to bring you! I haven't seen you in a while!" She grinned, kissing Y/n's cheeks. "It's good to be here. I can't believe I haven't been invited sooner." Y/n and Pascale both looked over to Charles who stood by the suitcase. "Charles, it's wonderful that you brought Y/n along." She paused, looking to Charles and switching to French. "Est-ce qu'elle sait que je sais?" Charles shook his head. "Non, maman. Elle veut toujours que cela reste privé pour le moment."
"Eh bien, privé ne veut pas dire secret." Y/n looked between the pair, slightly confused as she didn't speak the language. "Mamon, s'il vous plaît-" He began, but Pscale began to walk away, waving her hands in the air. "Non, non, Charles. Je vais partir et aller cuisiner. Je m'occuperai de mes affaires et je te laisserai aider ta copine à s'installer." She turned back to Y/n. "Bisous!" She smiled, before closing the door. Charles let out a sigh of relief. "What was that about?" Y/n asked. "Just dinner. I will- Yes. I'll let you change for dinner and I'll see you at 8."
As the Leclerc family gathered around the dinner table, the atmosphere was filled with warmth and laughter. Charles Leclerc sat beside his friend Y/n, stealing glances and sharing smiles throughout the meal. Pascale, Charles' mother, couldn't help but notice the chemistry between the two. During the delicious main course, Pascale set her fork down and looked at Y/n with a twinkle in her eye. "Y/n, dear, Charles will not stop talking about you." Charles sighs as Y/n grins, highly amused. "Oh really? Isn't he just so sweet?" She teased.
"And Charles, how long did you say you two have been together?" Pascale asked, her eyes twinkling again with curiosity. Y/n's gentle expression had turned into knotted brows, confusion clouding her mind. She stole a glance at Charles, who offered her a reassuring smile before answering. "Oh, we've been together for a while now." Charles replied smoothly, his tone tinged with amusement, before reaching for Y/n's hand beside him. Y/n's mind raced as she tried to make sense of Charles' response. She had never considered him anything more than a friend, and now she found herself unwittingly caught in a web of deception.
"So, Y/n, what made you and Charles decide to start dating all of a sudden?" Pascale inquired with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. Y/n nearly choked on her wine, as Charles masked a laugh. "Oh, you know Pascale, sometimes these things just happen." Y/n replied, trying to play along. Pascale's eyes sparkled as she nodded knowingly. Charles nodde too, playing along with the story Y/n had come up with. "That's wonderful! I'm so happy to hear that. I am so happy none of the journalists have found out yet. You two must be discreet." Y/n chuckled nervously, "Yes, we like to keep things private. At one stage, we were so secretive, I didn't even know we were together." The family laughed along as Y/n kicked Charles under the table. A silent wince left his lips.
"Well, I think I should go and clean these dishes. How about-"
"Charles and I will do them, Pascale. Honest." Pascale smiled approvingly of Y/n. "If you insist." Y/n nodded, grabbing Charles quite firmly to make him follow her to the kitchen with various plates. Once the door had closed, Y/n turned to Charles, frustration evident in her eyes. "What on earth was that, Charles?" Charles placed the plates into the sink. "Oh by the way, Y/n. My mum thinks we are dating." His poor attempt of a joke didn't land too well, but the tea towel Y/n had thrown at him did. Charles sighed, scratching the back of his head nervously. "Look, I didn't know how to explain why you're suddenly here, so I may have mentioned we're together." He explained. "What the hell, Charles? You didn't tell me about this plan! I thought we were just friends!" Y/n whispered, trying not to let their ruse be overheard.
Charles had stopped thinking of the plates now and had instead turned his focus to trying to stop Y/n from telling Pascale the truth. "I know, I know. My mom can be relentless with her questions about my love life. I didn't want her prying too much, so I improvised. Sorry about that." Y/n sighed, holding the bridge of her nose. "Well, it's a bit late now. We need to figure this out before it gets more complicated."
Charles nodded, engulfing her in a hug and resting his chin on top of her head. "Agreed." They pondered for a moment, before Charles came up with a plan. "How about we make a deal?" Y/n looked up to him, almost as if to tell him to continue. "We'll keep up the charade for a while, and I promise to come clean with my mom when the time is right. In the meantime, we can use this to our advantage somehow." Y/n raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Alright, but you owe me big time for this. What's the plan?"
Charles smirked. "We can use this 'relationship' to our advantage. You get to spend the summer here, and it'll keep my mom off my back for a while. Deal?" Y/n sighed again, running her hands through her hair. "Fine, deal. But this better not turn into a soap opera. We're just friends, got it?" Charles chuckled, reaching his hand out and shaking hers. "Got it. Just friends."
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smileysuh · 22 days
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comfort cuisine - TEASER
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🌙 starring. Johnny Suh x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. You’ve never felt a feral need like this before, but it’s not necessarily the primal type of drive. Instead, it’s a feeling of wanting to be close to this man- who you’ve been next to for so many years, but unable to touch. Except, he’s touching you now, and you want more.
tw/cw. unprotected sex, breast worship/massaging, big dick Johnny, fingering, pussy stretching prep, 'it's finger licking good,' praise, dirty talk, masturbation, multiple reader orgasms, cumming together, creampie, soft sex, longing, fluff, etc… I pet names: (hers) honey.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 10.8k
🍭 aus. aged up/widower dad!John, best friends to lovers, Chef!John, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. I'm so happy that people loved Line Chef Mark in my fic Real Talk, I received so many messages about giving Head Chef John his own love story, and this is what I came up with in the past four months :) it's a little different from what I normally do, but I wanted to continue with that 'slice of life' theme and venture into a plot line I've never tried before with widower/single dad John :)
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“So two line chefs called in, huh?” you prompt, tucking your legs up and making room for the large man on the sofa.
“I expected it from Haechan, but Mark’s generally pretty reliable. His girlfriend was on shift today, so I know he wasn’t skipping to be with her- I’m guessing they got pretty messed up last night.”
“They’re young,” you point out, accepting a beer from him. “We used to be young.”
“Used to be,” Johnny laughs, taking a swig of his drink. 
Looking at this man- this father, you realize maybe he never really got the chance to be young. At twenty five, he had a six year old, he wasn't running around blacking out and getting hung over, he was working his way up the employment ladder, dreaming about a better future for his daughter.
“You mentioned Mark has a girlfriend, I think I’ve heard about her a few times now, it’s interesting that she was in and he wasn’t.”
“I’m going to be honest, I love Mark, he’s a great kid- but, he can sometimes be peer pressured into things. Haechan has a hold on Mark unlike any I’ve seen, they bring out… interesting sides of each other.”
You laugh at the description, and it’s clear there’s more on Johnny’s mind, so you wait for him to continue. 
“It’s nice that Mark is young and in love, I can understand that- but at the same time, I just hope he doesn’t make the same mistakes I did. Not that Soonbok is a mistake, of course- I just mean that… life is fragile. You think you’re going to be with someone forever, and then you’re reminded of how frail things can be.”
You frown at his words. Even after all of these years, Johnny still holds so much pain about his lost wife. You want to do your best to help Johnny in every aspect of his life, especially emotional, but this is a topic you never know how to approach. He’s right for grieving, his ex was his first love, his true love- how is there anything you could ever say to make him feel better about her passing?
You open your mouth, only to close it, and Johnny watches you intently. Sometimes he looks at you, the way he’s looking at you right now, and you wonder if he feels the same level of connection with you that you feel with him. You wonder if he wants you to kiss him, if a kiss would make him feel better, if it would - if even for a moment - help him forget about the pains he’s faced in his life.
But it’s because of the pains he’s faced that neither of you can close the distance, you’d like to think about it that way at least. Even after all these years, it’s still too early, so you simply reach out and gently squeeze his hand.
Johnny offers you a smile, and you’re glad that in some small way, maybe you’ve helped him.
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4ngel-inc · 3 months
Text
࿔*:・ 𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐘 𝐌𝐄 — 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏 ࿐
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notes — [ mdni / 18+ ], fem reader, pet names, dirty talk.
𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐑 takes it very seriously when you can't sleep. "lucifer, i'm fine, is this really necessary?" he rubs your feet as you sip on the tea he made you, just a little honey and cream the way you like. "yes," he states matter-of-factly, "you aren't feeling well," he frowns, "i wish you'd tell me what's on your mind." the tea is making you a little more relaxed, "it just gets to me sometimes, luci," you pause, "seeing everyone fawn over you at RAD." he sighs, halting his ministrations on your feet, "it's only because i'm in charge, they think they'll benefit if they befriend me," he looks at you with all the love in the world, "it's you i really want, that won't change."
𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍 is the reason you can't sleep, he's pissed you off with one of his get-rich-quick schemes again, and the argument you had before turning the lights out is enough to have you ruminating, thinking about the things he's said to you. you wonder, will he ever grow more responsible? although he seems to be sleeping soundly, mammon is contemplating the same things—why does he keep disappointing you? he wants to be better, for you. "hey, ya sleeping?" if you're awake, he's hoping you'll be open to talking. "i'm sorry, i know yer mad, but i'm gonna be more responsible from now on, gotta make you my wife someday, i wanna take care of you, please let me."
𝐀𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐔𝐒 naturally, thinks sex is the answer when you can't sleep. he'll slip his hand around the back of your hair and pull you in, immediately slipping his tongue into your mouth. he's a bit of a pervert, so he doesn't waste time in asking you if what he's doing is alright, "this ok, love? let me help you sleep," he nibbles on your bottom lip as you nod, urging him to continue. "i'll fuck you to sleep, let me please you, you and your beautiful body. . ." he mutters to himself, trailing a hand down your stomach before slipping his fingers under your panties, "you'll only have good dreams tonight, honey, i promise."
𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐙𝐄𝐁𝐔𝐁 has never told you before, but he always waits until you fall asleep before he lets himself drift off. he just likes to know you're safe and comfortable before he can relax, and seeing you tucked under his arm, looking so peaceful since he is the one protecting you, is worth more to him than any gourmet cuisine. however, when you can't sleep, he's naturally excited to share his favorite snacks with you—cookies and cakes, probably far too much sugar for a late-night meal but it honestly does make you feel a little better. "see? i told you," he smiles and snuggles into you, "you're feeling better now, i can tell."
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violet-eng · 4 months
Note
REMEMBER ME POOKIE? (THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR FOLLOWING I APPRECIATE IT ♡♡♡♡
So Just think about it if zongli is your boyfriend right image he shows his dragon parts to u like tail and tongue scales horns👹👹👹
And dragon is a type of lizard so dose that mean he breeds whit his tongue and tail and he always wears gloves JUST THINK ABOUT WHAT GOODIES ARE UNDER THERE😚😚😚 GROWING FINGERS.
do u think he has 2 cocks?
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You.Need.Jesus... And so do I...
About the 2 cocks thing... I asked an expert (my college friend) and she said yes...
Btw I took a little creative freedom bc I had this "jealous scenario" long ago and wanted to try again some interaction with hybrid Zhongli.
Also, in case you want something more casual then just tell me and I'll give it a try.
Order ready. Enjoy.
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Jealous Hybrid! ¡Zhongli! x fem!reader | NSFW 🔞
Summary: You traveled to Fontaine where you became close friends with Neuvillette. That's why when you return to Liyue and Zhongli SMELLS Neuvillette in your clothes, he goes feral and (basically what was previously asked).
Advertencias: smut 🔞. MDNI. Established relationship. Dirty talk. Does this count as fucking a monster? Zhongli hybrid sex. size kink. Incorrect use of the dragon's tail (not just once, but twice 🎶fancyyy🎶). Two cocks. Piv, anal. Fingering. Does tail sucking count as a bJob? Unprotected sex. Overstimulation. Dacryphilia. Basically, daddy Geo goes wild.
4.1 k words.
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In a few days, you will return to Liyue Bay, to your comfortable apartment in the center above the jewelry store, next to your beloved Zhongli, who has not stopped answering your letters since you left for your work trip to Fontaine. The immense city had completely amazed you, and dazzled by the avant-garde facades of its buildings, the days had felt more like a vacation than work.
Despite the ostentatious façade of the city, you miss home and the delicate architecture between the mountains that guard the city. You also miss the ocean, so different from the primordial sea, full of ancient legends and tales of war. Most of all, you miss your dear counselor at the funeral parlor. Zhongli had been very encouraging about the idea of your trip, especially knowing how much you were interested in working at Meropide Fortress.
This, in your lover's words, would give you a fresh perspective and update your knowledge of the law, as well as a useful contact like the Duke. However, your dear Zhongli did not expect that your thirst for knowledge would be overshadowed by a reluctant desire to help the helpless.
Wriothesley was the first at Fontaine to notice this, so he didn't stop you when you offered your knowledge and help during a trial at the Opera Epiclese, a murder case that was quite scandalous, but not enough to horrify you…
As a paralegal, your knowledge had become indispensable in subsequent trials, so much so that you spent more time in the office of Iudex Neuvillette than in the Fortress. One day you had to attend to a poor robbery victim, the next day you had to observe the petitions and lawsuits of a Sumeru traveler who had come to town, another day you had to make sure that Liney had not been sued for one of those dangerous magic tricks, and then you had to return to the Opera for more cases… and so on for the months you spent there.
Mornings and afternoons you were busy, surrounded by paperwork and research. Fontaine's technology was indeed a welcome relief, and you counted the days to return to Liyue with plans for those strange machines….
As long as the sun was high, you kept your mind on your work, whether it was at a trial or in Monsieur Neuvillette's office. But when the moon rose, and even the Iudex warned you that you had worked too hard, you enjoyed the tourist wonders the city had to offer. The cuisine was very different from Liyue's, the clothes and the songs… ….
Neuvillette, like the good ruler he is, as a result of all the help you had given him, dedicated himself to being your guide during your stay there.
You had found in the Iudex a pleasant companion, whose stories and knowledge consumed you with curiosity. He reminded you of your Zhongli in many ways, and in that ancestral spirit they both radiate… After all, both of them had been great ancestral dragons at some point in their lives.
The farewell from Fontaine had been anything but sad, you had promised to come back, the Melusines had obliged you… and they had given you a box of macaroons. The return to Liyue is much easier than the departure, and when you finally see the red-and-green tiled roofs of the atavistic buildings, a warmth floods your heart. Home… you're finally back.
You hadn't told Zhongli about your return, so he's surprised when he catches your scent while drinking tea near the Wanmin Restaurant. He puts the cup down on the table and, with a subtle movement, closes his eyes, concentrating on the scent emanating from your skin. Yes… it is definitely you, it is the scent of your hair, the balm of your lips, the smell of the cream you use to moisturize your hands… how he missed that smell… how many times he had masturbated smelling your clothes, in the dark solitude of his apartment, longing for you to come back to him and let him take you on the floor, on the table or wherever…
He could perceive every bit of your cinnamon scent, of the lavender cologne you had bought a few months ago, of the floral soap with which you washed your clothes, even the new smells, the dew from the plants of Fontaine, the scent of the flour with which they prepared their famous cakes, the outflow of the sea in which you must have swum, and… what is that smell?
Zhongli frowns, no matter how expressive his face contorts as he turns his head toward the cobblestone streets of his city to meet your figure and your surprised, almost disappointed expression.
"It was supposed to be a surprise," you complain as you embrace him from behind and leave a kiss on his head, how much you missed the scent of his dark curls, the feel of the softness of his hair… the scent of the man he is… you can't wait to have him on top of you that night…
"I smelled you from miles away," he mentions as if it were something banal, though in a rather stern tone of voice. You can't help but dive into the deep doubts of that foul smell. It seems familiar to him…
"I missed you too, my dear… Ah… It's been a long trip, but I had fun… I learned a lot," you say smiling, "Wriothesley was very kind to me, he gave me a lot of freedom to work in the Fortress…" you begin to tell.
The Duke, Zhongli thinks, no… that smell doesn't belong to him….
"Clorinde saved me from trouble when I first came to Fontaine…" you continue.
No… neither did she, Zhongli tells himself.
"Oh, Lady Furina was also very hospitable to me, even though she had a terrible flu when I first started working with the Iudex Neuvillette… oh, I almost forgot to mention the Hydro Dragon to you," you laugh, "you two have a lot in common…"
That smell… that reptilian stench of primordial water. So that's the name the vermin is using now…
Zhongli, smelling Neuvillette's perfume on your clothes, on your skin, can't help but think of all the days you spent with this man… being with him instead. He starts to feel a burning spark inside him that could explode any moment. Jealousy, people would tell him, he would call it thirst for death and war….
For the rest of the afternoon, all he hears from you is how wonderful and interesting Monsieur Neuvillette is… Neuvillette this, Neuvillette that, Neuvillette complimented me, Neuvillette helped me… Although you talk little about him and more about the other friends you made during your stay in Fontaine, in your territorial friend's mind it feels like you're explaining to him what a catch Monsieur Neuvillette is, a dragon who's not afraid to rule his country... while he…. Well
"I didn't think he was such a dragon," you comment, recalling the time Liney insisted Neuvillette to show him his original form, lying that it was his birthday, something the kindly Iudex, who cherishes the friendship of such an interesting being as Monsieur Liney, cannot deny.
"Did he show you his draconic form?" asks Zhongli, as if out of a trance.
"Only for a few minutes, but that was only once. I think I saw him more often as a dragon-human hybrid when we were working in his office late at night," you comment, very unaware of the pressure cooker Zhongli is turning into.
How comfortable Neuvillette must have felt, Zhongli thinks, to show himself to her like that… did they…? No, he reproaches himself, y/n would never do such a thing. And surely Neuvillette was just being kind to a guest like her, who had been so helpful during her stay there.
"Well," Zhongli adds, in the mood to change the course of the conversation, feeling a little more relieved, shedding his primitive instincts, "how was the weather?" he already knows the answer… rainy as usual… ….
"Pretty sunny," you reply.
And that's the breaking point for the great Rex Lapis, who has so patiently endured this conversation.
You hadn't realized how quickly night had fallen on Liyue when Zhongli led you by the hand at a brisk pace to your shared apartment. His grip is strong, like a heavy chain on your wrist, and his steps are longer and faster.
"Zhongli," you mutter between gasps at the performance you must give for this feat… After your long journey, the workout is going badly for you, "slow down".
"Yes… practice," he says, "because soon you will ask me to go much slower."
Your voice catches in your throat, while a few hours ago you had the idea of intimacy with Zhongli, you were expecting something slow and loving, as it usually happens when you return from your crossings… not what this man has in mind.
You stumble up the stairs, covering your face in embarrassment at the curious looks of your neighbors as they watch the unchanging funeral consultant drag his girlfriend up the stairs and into the confines of his apartment.
"Zhongli, stop it," you say once inside, breaking free of his grip, "what will the neighbors think?"
"That I'm fucking you until your legs stop working," he says, locking the front door.
"Don't say things like that," you squeak as you cover your face, your face red as a tomato.
"I wonder if you were this embarrassing when you were with your dear, respectable Iudex Neuvillette," Zhongli whispers, a hoarse undertone rising from his throat.
"Wait, Zhongli, it's not what it looks like," you try to defend yourself, though your words seem futile as the former Archon has you pinned against the wall, his entire form dwarfing your diminutive humanity.
"I'll tell you what it looks like," Zhongli says, slurring his words, despite the darkness, you can see his figure changing, growing in front of you, and his eyes, like two amber fireflies, piercing, are the only glimpse of light in the house, "it looks like I have to remind you who is the only dragon that can impress you, who is the only dragon that can eat your pussy and penetrate you until you're split in two."
"Zhongli!" you try to push him away, even though deep down something has started to smoke between your legs.
"I can smell how I turn you on," Zongli hisses, sinking his nose into your neck and brushing your cheek with his… horns?
"These…" you bring your hands up to his head, running them along the curve of the appendages that spring from his forehead, tangled in a spiral.
"Do you like them?" Zhongli muses, so deep and seductive that your skin bristles and your core soaks at the mere sound.
"I've never seen them before…" you say, your voice cracking, something besides Zhongli's hands caressing your hips and sliding up your thigh.
A tail… you'd be sure it was a tail if it wasn't for the darkness…
You turn your face away from Zhongli to watch him closely, noticing a certain look in his amber eyes, a pupil of an unfamiliar shape, and the way his smile shows you his sharp, gleaming fangs.
"I hate that you smell like him," he growls, shaking his head, "you should smell like me."
"Zhongli…"
"Is that all you can say?" he teases, sensing the eager tone in your voice, the nerves coursing through you from the tip of your nose to your toes, overwhelming your body in a rising flame of bubbling pleasure.
Zhongli is subtle as he leads you to the carpet, lighting the fireplace with his breath of fire on the way, illuminating the room and drawing a gasp of surprise from you.
Zhongli's figure towers over you, slender, almost monstrous. You find yourself propped up on your elbows, your skin brushing against the fabric of the carpet, while before you were wondering why he didn't leave you on the bed, now you understand, and that is that he wouldn't fit.
"Do you like what you see?" asks Zhongli, a proud smile on his handsome face. He kneels over you, cupping your frame between his thighs, to remove his clothes, which would have been torn by now but for the subtlety of his movements.
The thin fabric of his cloak falls behind his back, as delicate as lilies in spring, while his vest slides under his shoulders, tracing the slender figure of the ancient Archon. His tie is undone with a practiced gesture, and his white shirt opens in two, revealing the sculpted figure of the man above you.
The golden details of his skin reflect the fire of the hearth, and his chest, as fiery as the flame beside you, rises proudly before your incredulous gaze. The distance between his shoulders has grown, his chiseled muscles flexing with every movement. He undoes his gloves with his teeth, and as perverse as you look, you can't help but wet your lips with your tongue. His digits, like the rest of his body, have grown in size.
"I can read on your face the myriad fantasies that plague your depraved mind," he muses, adding a snaky sound to the end of the sentence.
Saliva drips down your throat, sweat trickles down your forehead, and your fluids begin to soak your core, all wet.
Zhongli is very skilled at undressing you, he has always taken his time for this kind of prelude, warming you up for him and adjusting your body to his eager caresses… but this is not just any situation… no, in his mind, in the mind of the powerful and ancestral ruler of Liyue, the goal is not to show you what a fervent and devoted lover he can become, but to rip all traces of the unwanted water dragon from your head and body.
"Careful," you mewel as you feel his claws growing and tearing at the fabric of your blouse and skirt.
"If these rags are so important to you, you know I can buy much more graceful ones that flatter the divinity of your figure," he orders, he's a tough nut to crack… and damn, that makes you…
"It's not the clothes…" you look for support on his shoulders, he moves you as if you were a rag doll, "I'm afraid you'll rub my skin…"
"Precious," he inhales deep into the skin on your shoulder, "I'm very skilled at moving when I'm with you. I would never allow myself such an atrocity, to bruise this pristine skin would be punished with the worst of punishments".
"Still," you whisper, and he gives you a golden look, expecting what you will say, with a calm but instinctive depth, you feel the flame of his lust grow and spread.
"Calm down," Zhongli says, laying your back down on the carpet again and parting the fabric of your bra with his claws. Your breasts heave after the release, your face turned sideways with crimson cheeks. "You look so beautiful when you're embarrassed," he adds, dipping his nose between your breasts, taking a deep breath of your eager, warm scent, bathed in eroticism and anticipation.
Zhongli slides his nose over your belly and then between your legs, over your soaked lingerie. Without taking his eyes off you, his eyes locked with yours in an iron grip, he slides the elastic of your garment around your hips, sliding the thin fabric down your thighs and then your ankles. The movement is slow and painful, but exhilarating, just as the image he gives you by smelling your underwear is exhilarating.
His beautified figure towers over you, the fabric clenched in a fist to his nose, where a deep sniff brings Zhongli the ecstasy that no recreational tea leaf could ever provide. The nectar of your sex is the only delicacy he needs that night, whether in his mouth or around his cock…
Throwing the lingerie aside, Zhongli places his hand on his pants, ripping the dark fabric tightly from his muscular legs to reveal not one, but two huge, thick, throbbing cocks eager for you.
"What the fuck!" you exclaim as you watch Zhongli's monstrous appendages slam into his abdomen.
He seems to ignore your expression as he buries his face between your legs, kissing the inside of your thighs, inhaling the juice inside of you as it oozes from your center… Well, he tells himself, it doesn't smell like Neuvillette, at least not here.
"Do you hear me?" you call, lifting his face by the horns, "do you have two cocks?"
"'Indeed, yes," he answers, taciturn as always, "what a crude way to question me about my nature, dear," he says, while you notice his tail waving behind him, wagging from side to side like a predator about to hunt. .
"Did you learn these manners on your wonderful journey to the Nation of Justice?" Zhongli asks as his tail wraps around your thigh, grazing your skin with its scales as it moves closer to your center.
"No… but it was a coherent question I asked," you argue with him, so vainly that you look pathetic.
"And I guess you didn't learn how dragons mate either?"
"The Iudex and I," you start to speak, but your voice stops when you feel Zhongli's tail tempting your folds, "He and I never… no…"
"Too bad," Zhongli replies, "because at least his tail would be softer than mine."
The words catch in your throat, a gasp as Zhongli spreads your legs and the rough skin of his tail slowly slides into your pussy, shaping the surprised, wet, velvety walls around him.
"Ahg!" You cry out between painful moans, you haven't even had time to get used to his thickness and he's already reached the bottom.
You writhe on the rug, your hands clenched tightly against the fabric of the rug as Zhongli holds your legs apart, watching the embarrassing way your pussy clenches around his appendage.
Your back arched as you heard him laugh, sending vibrations to your center, as if everything in it was somehow connected.
"Nothing to add?" he asks, almost mocking you.
"I~…mmhh~" you mewl as your chest rises and falls heavily, waves of heat gather in your belly, the thickness of his tail hurts, burns, but he touches you in every place you could want, even though it seems if he went any further he could reach your throat, "Ahg~"
"Too big?" he asks, pulling back just in time to hit your cervix again.
"Ah!" you moan hotly.
"Speechless?" Zhongli plays with your mind as he withdraws again, this time further, to sink deep inside you again, this time harder.
You can't help but let out a high-pitched, almost heartbreaking scream as you feel him plunge his tail all the way in, welcomed by your walls as they get used to him. His tail is long, largely due to his draconic form, so each time it curls up to penetrate you, it reaches the bottom with a crushing fall, pressing down on the rubbery spot that suffocates you.
Zhongli crosses your legs over his shoulder and pumps his tail into your pussy as if he's cleaning something inside you. Your back jiggles in this position, your waist moves at the stimulus of his thrusts inside you, your throat emits the most outrageous cries of pleasure you've ever made.
He goes in and out, rubbing every corner of you in synchronicity and fervor, little patient with your tolerance and abusing your limits. It excites him to see you screaming for him, and it excites him even more to see pearly drops sliding from your eyes, glistening like the juices overflowing from your abused hole.
"Ahhg~ yes, yes~" each word shouted between moans and sighs, deepens in Zhongli an instinctive way that he has wanted to show you for a long time. Each thrust accelerates, becoming frantic and jerky, each stroke brimming with power, and his hands wrap around your legs, holding you in place so you don't move as he ejaculates inside you.
His tail spasms painfully and suddenly you feel a familiar warmth explode inside you. he has cum inside you, you know it because you are aware of the sensation of his seed overflowing from your pussy… although you doubt that it came from his tail…
"You…" you gasp, mesmerized by the dark new sensation Zhongli has given you.
"Looks like you enjoyed it more than I thought," he smiles, a dark smile.
His tail emerges from inside you and slides over your stomach and waist, turning your body until your knees and palms touch the carpet.
"You're not very swollen yet, are you?" he asks.
"Well, I… ah!" you moan in mid-sentence as you feel his fingers sink deep into you, almost as long as your insides, reaching the deepest valleys of your insides, "Zh…. Zhongli~."
He moves his fingers inside you, bigger and thicker than you remembered. He pulls them out to leave your fluids on his cocks and plunges his fingers back in to lubricate your ass this time.
"I never dared to ask you to do it from behind," he says as he spreads your buttocks with his hands, exposing your small hole to him, "perfectly made for me," Zhongli whispers to himself.
You feel his thick member slide into your pussy, your entrance getting used to his new length as it throbs around him. Almost immediately he enters your ass, slowly working his way inside you, your hole welcoming the new guest with contractions that elicit guttural moans from Zhongli.
"Not so hard, darling," he growls, "or you'll make me cum," he adds, placing his hands firmly on your hips, avoiding the way your body trembles at his intrusion.
"It hurts~" you let out with a moan, because indeed it hurts, but the feeling of being so full makes your body feel like you are on cloud nine, experiencing sensations you have never felt before. "Mmhhh ~ Zhongli ~," you unconsciously move your hips back and vulgarly ask him to start his thrusts.
"I'm going to move, dear. Need you to hold on as long as you can," he says, leaning into your ear, the warmth of his breath flooding your neck and cheek. He doesn't want to hurt you, in short, he's jealous of your new friendship in Fontaine, but he didn't want to make you a victim of his feelings. He loves you, he is madly in love with you, and that is why he is willing to show you, in the most draconic human way possible, who is the only one who deserves to have you.
"Please," you beg, grinding your hips against his, feeling his cocks sink deeper into you.
Zhongli, like the ardent lover he is, doesn't keep his beautiful lady waiting, not after how well you've just taken him. He rubs your insides with his cock, eliciting mellifluous moans from you, and in an arduous retreat, he enters you again, all the way in, again and again and again.
The sound of skin against skin fills the room, Zhongli rushes into you at a frenetic and almost deadly pace, one second you feel empty and the next you are completely full, his appendages bruise your insides, shaking your insides and churning your belly in skillful movements.
He throws his head back, enjoying the way you clench around him, completely hooked on you, trapped in your vicious holes. He takes one of your breasts in his hand, massaging the soft, sweaty flesh under his fingers as heartbreaking screams leave your throat, his tail trailing up your other nipple, wrapping around it as one of his hands massages your clit.
You're completely pampered by his limbs, screaming his name as if it would save you from the overwhelming storm of pleasure consuming your body. Your face is contorted with pleasure, your eyes are in the back of your head, your heart is pounding against your chest just as Zhongli is doing inside you. All in perfect synchronicity.
The climax of pleasure comes when Zhongli takes your hands and places them behind you while his tail splits your lips and slides over your tongue, down your throat. All your holes are completely filled, all subdued by him, entering relentlessly without stopping for you to rest.
Zhongli grunts and moans as he feels your throat close to his tail and as your ass begins to shake around his cock. And he does it even more when he thinks about how beautiful you will look completely bathed in his cum. That's why when he comes inside you, from your mouth and pussy, he can't help but move away from you to get a clear picture of you gagging as you try to just swallow his contents, and as the milky fluid gushes from your butt under your thighs.
You cough and wipe your lips with the back of your hand, looking over your shoulder at the way your legs and ankles are soaked with hIs seed. Dragon stuff, you think, because he's never given you a load of this size before.
"Charming," he whispers, enchanted by the image your corrupted form offers him, "divinely accommodating and beautiful. The most precious treasure I have found on my long journey," he adds, crawling towards you, wrapping your body in his arms as he surrounds you with his figure in fluid movements, pressing you against his chest.
You feel Zhongli's chest vibrate, and the way he has put you on his chest, between his arms, and covered you with his tail, gives you the impression that he is holding you in a shelter, you, his precious treasure.
"Tomorrow I will make you a nest, I have to build one so I can take care of you and our cubs," he whispers above your head.
"Did it really occur to you that I could cheat on you with another man?" you ask, taking advantage of the fact that Zhongli has let down his guard.
"It was my mistake to let my foolish thoughts control my actions. In fact, I think you are the most loyal person I have ever met in my life," he replies.
"If so… why doubt me?"
"Because you are too good for someone like me. Because your sense of help and perseverance is more like that of a dragon who decides to take care of his people than one like me… who leaves them to their own fate," there was a hint of melancholy in his words.
"You have been a good ruler, my dear Rex Lapis. Liyue is more than ready to be ruled by humans…don't think that you have left it to its fate…especially when you walk through its streets and talk to its people," you smile as you caress his chest.
"My dear y/n, you always have the words to make my cold heart warm and smooth," he plays with the strands of your hair, "I am deeply sorry that I ever doubted you…in the near future I will make it up to you, and maybe in the distant future we can remember this as a simple and shameful mistake of mine," he adds, joining his lips to yours in a kiss that shows you his painstaking sincerity, the doors of his emotions wide open for you.
Zhongli's tongue slides into your mouth, giving the kiss a more naughty touch… and you don't know how, but suddenly you find yourself at his mercy again, stretching your pussy with his two cocks inside you, shaping your walls with relentless attacks.
"I want to see you with a swollen belly," he moans, "you're going to be a beautiful mother…" he says, opening your legs, digging his claws into your thighs, watching as his two cocks disappear into your hole.
Now that you think about it… maybe Zhongli is in heat…
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witheringwidgetwrites · 8 months
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I think my favorite part about the brothers being demons is that none of them truly understand how humans function! I would love to hear your HCs about what they completely misunderstand or not know of when it comes to MC and humanity in general! (PS love your writing your recent series is wonderful and the Levi one really sent me over to the moon and back!)
Alright! This is just my general take, I have no specific headcanons atm!
Lucifer and his superiority complex seem to underestimate humans generally all the time. He's seen MC fall down multiple times and was sure they immediately broke a bone. Just a small trip, but he assumed they broke everything.
Driving. Mammon assumed driving was only a Devildom thing. When Mc hopped in the drivers seat of Lucifer's soccer mom van, he laughed and asked if their feet could reach the pedal.
Leviathan is the most absorbed in human culture. His worst assumption would probably be assuming you've played every game he mentions that humans have, or that you know of it. "You HAVEN'T played World of Warcarft? It's like, a staple normie game!"
When you read together with Satan, there have been a few times where you're reading something and he sounds out the word for you, because he thinks you can't read big words, or he assumes they're not normal human words. (Which is sometimes true. But still. Ick.)
Asmodeus has always assumed that humans skin peels once a month. He saw it on tiktok a few months before MC moved in, and just took it as fact. He assumed MC had a health issue when they didn't peel for 3 months in a row.
Out of all the demons, Beelzebub is probably one of the closest to humans, ever since Lilith. He had always assumed that every human ate the same king of food. Like every human eats burgers and fries, no other culture of cuisine existed.
Humans need 16 hours of sleep, according to Belphegor. The first week of school for MC, after they had grown closer and he realized they had definitely not slept their full 16 hours. He was a little surprised to find out you spend most of the day awake.
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fanaticsnail · 6 months
Text
Bachata (Dance Series)
Masterlist here.
Word Count: 3,105
Warnings: Fluff. Pure fluff, dancing, sensual dance descriptors, mention of alcohol (if you squint).
It was beta-read by the ever wonderful @sordidmusings (thank you bby grl, you are a blessing)
Song Suggestion: Stand By Me, Wake Me Up, la Isla Bonita
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Your lips remained parted, eyes glossy and hyper-fixated on the movement of swaying hips, bent knees, and the biceps and forearms of your captain who effortlessly led one of the locals in a sultry dance. All his movements were in time to the beat of the drum, the fingerpicking of nylon guitar strings and the push and pull of airy piano accordion accompanying the lilt of vocals.
The atmosphere surrounding the beach-front festival on the coastal shore was loud, the crash of waves in the distance resonated within the chasms of the wooden dock where the Going Merry was harbored. Several vendors had set up temporary huts with canvas roofs atop wooden poles, selling their wares, local cuisine and fountains of exotic drinks of flavors you had never heard of before.
Although the musicians sang out their romantic souls into the air, prompting many a traveler to engage with them in dance and singing along to the tune: your eyes remained fixed on the way Luffy effortlessly spun the local girl within his arms, steadying her hips with his hands. His nose was scrunched with laughter, his grin drawn wide against his cheeks to bare his teeth in unbridled joy.
“Quartermaster?” the green-haired swordsman addressed you, “your thoughts?”
“Hmm?” you hummed in question, snapped from your entranced gaze held against your captain’s swaying body.
“You’ve been staring at him long enough,” Nami giggled at you, leaning back to recline against the wooden log behind her, “surely you have a bit of a hypothesis.”
You furrowed your brow, looking between the remaining companions you’d found yourself serving with on the Going Merry. Nami had a playful shimmer falling in her eyes, Zoro quenched his thirst by draining the remainder of his brown-stained beer bottle, while Sanji was making his way back from collecting the evening meal for the crew by bartering with the vendors.
Usopp and Luffy opted to join in the festival celebrations by swaying with the locals to the beat of the drum. Both men began surprising the crew with how effortlessly they danced to the tunes produced by the band, but Luffy was exceptionally surprising everyone by the way he almost had an air of sultry seduction in his movements. As soon as you witnessed the first effortless and tasteful gyration of his hips, your breath caught in your throat and a warm flush weaseled its way from your chest to tint your cheeks with its presence.
“On the dancing?” you asked again, Zoro chuckling at your thoughts.
“Alright, let’s backtrack then,” the swordsman rolled his eyes with a chuckled scoff, “look at him.”
“Oh she’s been looking at him enough, Zoro,” Nami scrunched up her nose, her tone light and teasing. You scrunched up your own nose in light mockery at her jest, prompting her to release a laugh into the night air.
“Looking at who?” the blonde chef asked as he placed the food down on the stretched canvas mat on the sandy floor in front of you all.
“Alright Sanji, non-biased opinion,” Nami said, leaning forward to sit herself closer to the food in front of her, “our captain. Where do you think he learnt how to dance like that? Look – no, really Sanji – look.”
The chef rolled his eyes and lulled his head over to look at the captain of the Going Merry. Luffy spun his dance partner to face her torso away from him, her back pressed flush against his bare chest as he ghosted his fingertips over her vertical forearms held upwards. His lips traced the back of her neck, his eyes fluttered closed as he swayed his hips against the beat, with his brows furrowed in passionate concentration.
“O-oh,” Sanji stuttered, his eyes widening with a downturned smile rising within his fluster.
“I know, right?” Nami loudly whispered in her hushed enthusiasm.
“I can honestly say: I have no idea,” the blonde nodded his head in confirming his words more-so to himself than to the group, “he doesn’t give off that kind of energy at all.”
The music concluded, the captain breaking away from his dance partner, and giving her a clap on the shoulder as a gesture of encouragement and joy at the time they spent together.
“Oi, Luffy, Usopp!” Zoro called to the two crewmen, “grub’s up, come and get it!”
Your captain’s face snapped over towards the crew; his eyes first meeting with yours. A large grin drew itself against his cheeks once more as he found Usopp and they stampeded together towards the canvas mat.
“You guys, the sand- the sand,” Nami aggressively shooed the two rapidly approaching men, their feet kicking up the coarse grains of sand dangerously close to the food placed on the floor. You giggled at them, looking to your captain and patting the unoccupied space beside you in a gesture for him to sit down.
Usopp claimed the vacant space next to Nami, taking a portion of the local cuisine for himself as he did so. Luffy, smiling at your gesture, immediately plopped himself down ungracefully. He playfully nudged your shoulder with the top of his head, giving you a small smile, his curls feeling soft against your exposed skin as his hat remained fastened to his back via the drawstring. You laughed, reaching your palm and fingertips to brush some of the strands away from his forehead to reveal his hazelnut-coloured eyes to you. You shook your head, scrunching your nose and playfully nudged him away from you.
Your role aboard the Going Merry was the Quartermaster: an aid in the navigation and smooth sailing amongst the waves, while being the secondary loyal soldier behind the first-mate. Luffy, upon finding you in a tavern off the shore of Shells-Town, immediately was taken with your skills and ease in breaking up a tavern brawl. Two rival pirate crews had stumbled into the family-run tavern and began immediately meddling in the affairs of one another’s business. The boiling point flashing like water to scorching oil within the halls of your favorite tavern: foreheads touching, guns withdrawn, fists flying and the breaking of brown, glass bottles. You threw yourself into the crowd, opting to disarm and do no harm, dancing effortlessly within the heat of the battle and incapacitating those who opted to remain fighting. It took little to no time to stop the fight, your skills drilled into you at the hands of many a brawling instructor and mentor throughout your childhood.
After the fight had finished, a brown-haired captain adorning a straw hat with a red ribbon approached you, telling you straight out, “Pack your bags, I need you on my ship,” to which you shrugged with a simple “aye, Sir”.
In your travels with the young captain, you were immediately taken with his innocence and fearlessness to be anything other than what he is: a simple man with the charm and charisma he needs to lead a crew, but also with the mischievousness and playfulness that comes with his inexperience. His heart is intensely displayed on his wrists, his desire to serve and protect those in need was admirable. You would follow him to the ends of the earth, with nothing to add than a simple: “aye, Sir.”
Friendship, proximity, and sleepless nights by each other’s side had a small whisper of emotion beginning to form within the very central point of your heart. The longer you remained with him, the more this feeling began to burn within you. You put it all down to the need to serve your captain well or perhaps a small crush if anything else. Choosing not to engage with such childish emotions, you smothered the feelings as soon as they began.
But there was something about the way his hips were swaying tonight. Something about the way his eyes sparkled, his nose scrunched and his lips drew out to reveal his playful grin under the glittering stars around the festivities that held you hostage to your unquenchable emotions.
“Nice meat!” Luffy’s voice cut through your inner monologue, prompting you to shake your head and blink slowly away your enchantment, “you had any yet-? -You haven’t had any yet! Here, have some!”
Your captain thrust an empty paper plate into your hands before piling a mountain of food atop the plate; it bending beneath the weight of the variety of items.
“Captain, slow down!” you giggled, shooing his hand holding tongs with the dangle of cooked meat waving from the end, “I’m not going to be able to get through all this, but thank you for thinking of me.”
“Anything for my Quartermaster,” he shot you a small wink, “gotta make sure you’re taken care of, you know?”
Your eyes fluttered rapidly in a flustered blink. You shook your head once more and furrowed your brows at his comments. He looked down at your plate, gesturing with his hands for you to begin eating.
“Whatever you don’t eat, I will,” he shrugged, leaning back in his place beside you and looking up at you with eyes full of adoration and appreciation.
“Thanks Luffy, I trust that you will,” you giggled, placing the plate down on the ground and tucking your hair behind your ears and away from your mouth. He smiled up with his broadening grin as the rest of the crew continued to eat the delicacies this area graced you with.
You felt his gaze continue to hold to you as you continued to dine with the other straw-hats, then pouring drinks from the large jug for one another and laughing to a tale Usopp was recollecting. He sat up briefly, noticing some strands of your hair began to fall back in front of your face and immediately reached up to tuck the locks behind your ear with his thumb and index finger. A warmth drew itself upwards to your cheeks at this unrestrained gesture, but you did not shy away from his affection.  
Sitting in silence, Zoro continued to hold his intense gaze in unwavering focus against your interaction and dynamic with the captain. His left brow arched at the subtle touches, lingering on your flushed face before looking to the mischievous expression your captain currently was adorning.
“Hey Cap’n,” Zoro smirked up, collecting a beer bottle from beside him, “why don’t you and the Quartermaster have a little dance after dinner? She hasn’t had one all night.”
Your eyes widened at Zoro, a scowl falling to your lips in wordless reprimand. Zoro’s smirk broadened with his left brow arching upwards to taunt you further. Before you managed to get a word out to chastise him further, Luffy spoke up to interrupt your thoughts.
“Sounds good to me!” he exclaimed with joy, “how about it, Quartermaster? Dance with your captain?”
Words fell halted in your throat, the breath you were going to use to speak them caught behind your parted lips. You snapped your gaze back to your captain, snickers from your crew began to whisper in hisses behind their clenched teeth.
“I-I don’t think I could-,” you began, watching your captain as he eagerly rose to his feet and extended his hand out towards you.
“-You’ll be fine,” he smiled, collecting your hand from beside you, “let’s go, music’s starting again.”
“Aye, Sir,” you nodded, allowing him to pull you to rise to your own feet.
You turned your head back to your crew as Luffy began leading you towards the open fire, closer to the vicinity of the music. Zoro’s smirk-like grin was plastered openly on his lips, shooting a small wink towards you at your unsettlement. Nami gave you a small wave, wordlessly uttering to you: “learn why he dances like that.”
You inhaled sharply through your nose with eyes scolding your crew before being twirled within the arms of your captain to meet his hazelnut orbs.
“Just relax, okay?” he scrunched his nose up while pressing his forehead against yours, eyes twinkling with mischief, “I know what I’m doing, let me lead you.”
A small squeak found its way to your throat, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. He chuckled, taking both of your hands within his and began to effortlessly sway with you.
Crossing your arms upwards, he spun you to face away from him; rocking you within his arms briefly before experimentally intertwining his limbs with your own. He twirled you once again to face him, collecting your right hand within his left and placing his right hand wrapped completely around your shoulders beneath your left arm. He held you close in a tight and flush embrace, exaggerating his hips outwards and leading your feet to the beat and rhythm of the music.
Your eyes were wide and frantically looking everywhere else, breath hitching as he led you in the movements with such poise and ease. Meeting your eyes with the taunting and teasing gaze of the green-haired swordsman, you began to fall out of time to Luffy’s movements and stumble a little. You watched the swordsman’s chest tremble as a laugh fell from his lips at your stumble.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Luffy’s voice called to you, drawing your face up with his left hand weaving itself away from your right, “what’s the matter, are you okay?”
Your breath caught in your throat as he reached his hand up to touch your cheek tenderly. He continued swaying the both of you to the music while his eyes searched yours for the source of your unease.
“I-I just,” you began, your own eyes fluttering its concentration between his, “I’m a bit self-conscious dancing like this. It’s a bit-, uh-…”
He nodded with his brows furrowed, leading you with his verbal tone; “-a bit…?”
You clenched your teeth with a small grimace, “-a bit out of the ordinary? A bit unusual to be dancing like this?”
“Oh!” he nodded, returning his broad smile to his lips. He released your cheek from his left hand and again sought out your right to claim, “you don’t have to be self-conscious. As I said, I know what I’m doing. And if the attention bothers you so much, keep your eyes on me!”
The flush returned to your cheeks, the warmth threatening to tint its way to cover the entirety of your face as he confidently wove your right knee between his legs and swung his hips to the beat. You released a shaken breath from your lips, closing your eyes to bring your focus away from the Straw-Hat crew and their teasing gaze. Reopening your eyes, you met with the warm smile of your captain.
“There you go!” he complimented you while tracing small and indistinct lines on your spine, “‘atta girl!”
Internally, you were screaming. Your captain’s praise was nothing foreign to you, especially when in the heat of combat. Within the proximity he currently held with you, dancing you provocatively within the romantic atmosphere, this praise felt especially outlandish. Shaking your head to rid your mind of the fog his verbal praise rose within you, you kept your eyes fixed on him. His eyes softened as he began to hum along to the melody, twirling you away from him. Although his twirls moved your body far from his, he would always bring you back to hold you securely within his arms with his hips almost flush against your own.
As the dance continued on, you began to get more confident in your movements and trust for him to always support and lead you through it. He would sweep you into long-arched dips, circling around his body before having you snap back up to fall within his grip. All laughs and smiles drew upwards against your cheeks, a laugh or two flinging from your chests in glee to the music.
“How do you know how to dance like this?” you breathily asked him while he again twirled you to face away from him.
He released your hands from his grasp as he slowly ghosted them over your ribs, dragging them to rest on your hips. With closed eyes, he brought his lips up to your exposed neck and whispered against your skin: “Shanks taught me.”
Your glazed eyes opened widely, a small “oh” parting from you in surprise. You had heard many tales about Red-Haired Shanks and his crew of seasoned pirates from your captain. It should come as no surprise to you that he had shared more knowledge than the influence of a life of piracy onto your captain, but apparently the charm that comes with sensual dancing.
“When you were a child?” you asked him, lulling your head over as he continued to hold his lips a hair’s length away from your skin. He hummed in confirmation, the vibration prompting your pores to spring upwards over your neck and forearms.
“And the knowledge wasn’t lost to you over the years?” you quizzed him. His hands shifted you within his arms, turning you to face him again.
“I practiced with my brothers,” he chuckled, placing his forehead against your own, “my biggest brother would play guitar sometimes. I’d make my other one dance with me to the music.”
Before you could ask Luffy any further questions on the matter, the music concluded and your captain released you from his arms and cheered loudly to praise the musicians for their song. You trailed your gaze from the raven curls atop your captain’s head down over his sun-kissed skin to hold your lashes half-lidded as they sought out his eyes once more. He was so handsome, you knew that much was certain. All the time you spent together aboard the Merry had you drawing yourself closer to him, but now; you were completely smitten.
His joyful and lilted praise drew itself to a close, him turning to meet your eyes once more with his warm eyes. He reached his left hand down to collect yours within his comforting grip.
“Did you want another dance?” he asked hopefully, before he tore away his gaze to seek out a vendor’s stand behind him, “or we could get a drink? I could go for another one of those juice-things, I think.”
You giggled, reaching up your left hand to caress his smooth cheek. His skin ignited beneath your touch, glowing alongside the smoldering embers of the beach-front fire.
“As long as I'm with you, I’ll follow you anywhere,” you answered whimsically, prompting him to reach his forehead down to touch against your own. His nose scrunched up once more, his lips drawing out to a large smile as he answered you.
“Okay, great! Juice first,” he confirmed, nodding against your head, “then more dancing.”
“Aye, Sir.”
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nina-ya · 1 month
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Hey! It's my birthday and I was wondering if you write for Shanks? If you do, could you do a Ways That Law Wordlessly Says "I Love You"? thanks
Ways That Shanks Wordlessly Says "I Love You"
A/N: HAPPIEST OF BIRTHDAYS TO YOU NONNIE <3<3 I hope your birthday went well!! Luffy Zoro Sanji Law Kid Shanks Pairing: Shanks x reader CW: None. WC: 1.4k
Shanks had a talent for picking up on the smallest of details, especially when it came to you. He always seemed to know what you wanted, even before you had a chance to verbalize it. It was one of the many things that made being with him so special– his ability to read you like an open book.
One day, you two would be wandering through a market on a smaller island. The stalls are filled with various goods and trinkets, each one tempting you in their own way. You walked besides Shanks, taking in the atmosphere of the market. 
As you passed a stall filled with jewelry, a particular piece caught your eye. The craftsmanship was absolutely perfect and you just couldn’t help but admire it. You did not say anything, however, and you moved on from the stall to browse the other vendors. Shanks, though, stayed behind for just a moment, seemingly engrossed in the jewelry himself. Later, the sun began to set, and the market started to close. Shanks led you two back to the ship, and as you were settling down in your cabin, he pulled out a box, handing it to you.
“Got you something,” Shanks said, holding the box out to you with a grin. “Thought you might like it.” You opened the box and found the very piece of jewelry that you’d been eyeing earlier. The piece glimmered against the light, painting soft reflections of the room's light against the walls. You were taken aback, surprised that Shanks had gotten the very thing that you had shown interest in. 
“Shanks, you didn’t have to–” you began, but he interrupted your thoughts with a gentle laugh. 
“I wanted to,” he replied. “I saw the way you were looking at that thing earlier, and I couldn’t resist. Besides, if you really feel bad, I can think of a few ways that you could pay me back.” He said with a playful wink at the last comment. You couldn’t help but laugh at his words, feeling lucky that you fell for someone as amazing as Shanks. He always had a way of making you feel special, spoiling you in the most thoughtful ways. You know Shanks loves you when he pays attention to all your wants and needs. - - -
It’s common for the crew to always seek out some sort of tavern when they make landfall. It’s a fun way to down booze while also getting to try the island's local cuisine. You sat at the bar, watching the red haired man on the other side of the bar as he chatted with the other crew members. He naturally stood out amongst the bunch, his voice projecting across the building. You could practically feel the charisma dripping from his words. It’s one of the reasons you fell for him. 
Shanks approached you with a grin, ordering a round of drinks for everyone. He leaned against the counter, elbows propped up casually, turning to you. “Thirsty?” he asked, his voice projecting over the noise of the tavern. 
You nodded, and he motioned for the bartender to bring some drinks over to you two. Shanks picked up the drinks and motioned for you to follow him. He led you to a table in the corner, the seats being somewhat secluded from the rest of the tavern. While the crew was busy celebrating, Shanks was more than happy to hang out with you away from the rest of them
He slid your drink over to you and tapped the two glasses with a satisfying clink that rang throughout the room. While the others in the crew were being rowdy and singing sea shanties, Shanks sat beside you, close enough that you could feel his body heat radiating off of him. He keeps you engaged in a conversation, pointing out small things around the tavern and telling you interesting places he wants to visit while you guys are visiting the island. He had a way of making everything sound exciting, even if they are the most mundane things.
He would laugh at your jokes, eyes sparkling with amusement, and he would slightly lean closer to you as the noise grew louder to make sure he did not miss a word you said. It was as if you two were in your own bubble. You know Shanks loves you when he values spending alone time with you. - - - Shanks’ lap is always the best seat in the house during all the parties you two found yourselves in. His arm seemed to always find itself wrapped firmly around you, holding you close. You held a mug of rum, sharing sips with him, because he’d much rather use his one arm to hold you and keep you securely against him. Even when he is telling stories or engaging in conversation with others, his grip never loosens and you often could feel his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your waist, leaving a trail of goosebumps.
Tonight, the crew is gathered around a bonfire on the beach, the hot amber flames flickering, giving light to the celebration and filling the air with the sound of the occasional crackle and pop of the firewood. Shanks is right at home, reciting stories, full body boisterous laughter spilling from his lips. Even when his focus is not on you, you know that you are constantly lingering in his mind with the way he pulls you in just a little closer, whispering an inside joke that has you reeling over in laughter. As always you are the carrier of food and drinks, offering it to him every so often.  As the party winds down, Shanks stands, helping you to your feet, his arm still attached to you. It’s as if the world would crumble if he let go. Even as he guides you back to your shared quarters and into your bed, he still cannot seem to let go of you. There is just something about being in Shanks’ embrace that makes you feel so safe and so loved. As you drift off to sleep every night with his strong embrace cradling you to his chest, you know he will be right beside you when you wake up. You know Shanks loves you when he never lets go.
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moonrisecoeur · 6 months
Text
gratitude — leon kennedy
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author’s note: i don’t love doing taglists bc it’s kind of tedious but a couple people asked to be tagged so i’ll tag them in the comments of this post! please send asks/write comments/add tags to reblog if you liked this! that would be wonderful!
wc: 3.6k
content: sub!leon x fem!reader, sugar baby leon, mommy kink, orgasm control, pegging, hickies mentioned. leon is 21 reader is ‘slightly older’.
warnings: mentions but not depictions of financial abuse, dubcon, and prostitution (seen in a negative light; we support sex workers here)
this is a birthday gift to angel! @angelofwoe go give her some love :)
5. 4. 3. 2. 1…
incoming call from ‘leon ken(nedy)’
accept or decline?
you look over at your phone while you’re waiting at a red light, driving home from work. you smile, like clockwork, leon calls you at exactly 5 pm each day, and most of the time, you’re coming home. to him. the thought still makes your heart jump a little bit. leon is waiting at home, your home, and now his home too, for you.
he’s waiting for you.
god, your stomach does somersaults. he’s perfect.
you answer the call, clicking it on and waiting for it to connect the two of you, “hello?”
“hey!” he says, and you missed his voice. you smile softly at his enthusiasm, “what should i get and/or make for dinner? don’t know if you trust me to cook in your kitchen unsupervised yet…”
“i would let you,” you say, looking out the window, “though maybe i’d stop by a cafe for dinner on my way home.”
“hey, c’mon now!” he tries to defend himself, but he laughs, god you’re obsessed with that sound, “okay, okay, fair. i get it. really, though, what’ll it be?”
you think for a second, and you realize that leon doesn’t really ever get a choice, he just goes along with whatever you want, “hmm… why don’t you pick, baby?”
he goes silent for a second, “you sure?” and when you make a sound of approval, even though he gave you a chance to back out, he sighs, “fine. don’t say i didn’t warn you when we’re eating chicken nuggets tonight.”
“wow, what fine cuisine, leon,” you smile.
“wow, what fine cuisine, leon,” he smiles at the sound of your teasing voice. he can’t help liking you. i mean, how is he supposed to not like you? not only do you take care of him, buy him nice things, but you’re also so fucking pretty? what the hell?
“anyway, i’ll see you soon, baby. miss me a little bit, but not too much, okay?” you tell him, breaking him out of the daze that is listening to you talk. he feels bad that he wasn’t really paying attention to what you were saying.
“y-yeah. i’ll see you at home,” he stutters, quickly hanging up, clutching his phone to his chest. home. your… home. god, this was bad. he was going to go insane one of these days if you didn’t stop being so goddamn perfect.
leon had this preconception forever ago that sugar daddies and mommies and whatever the hell else were always old, decrepit people who gave you money for basically doing your best not to gag when you see them naked. people you take advantage of, who you give your body to in exchange for being able to afford anything. it’s an exchange, sex for money (no, sex for power). which would make him a… prostitute? he doesn’t know. he doesn’t want to know.
but god, you are so much more than that, practically his dream woman. sure, you’re a little older than him, but it’s not like girls his age are soft and sweet with him like you are. they expect so much, they expect him to be the perfect boyfriend 24/7. he could do it, sure, but it would be an act. a desperate act of manipulation for him to get what he wants.
what does he want? well, that’s the tricky part. he tries not to let on too much how intensely this one thing affects him, even with you. it would be too much power to let you have over him, and you already have way too much.
truthfully, you… leon doesn’t like to think about it, but you could take advantage of him if you really wanted to. he’s so used to such an easy lifestyle, he can’t go back to struggling and barely paying his bills. you really could use him for the one and only thing he has to give you whenever you please, and it’s not even that he can’t stop you, because he knows he’s stronger than you, but he knows you could dangle your financial control over his head and he would be at your feet, on his knees in an instant.
he doesn’t know why he even bothers to think about it. he knows you’re not like that. hell, he looks at you with half decent puppy eyes and you’re sending him more money just because he looks cuter than usual today. if anyone is the master manipulator here, it’s him, not you. you have only pure intentions, and leon appreciates that even if he can never 100% trust it.
leon is a weird sugar baby. he doesn’t ask for things, he doesn’t use up all of his allowance, he doesn’t beg you for every shiny thing that catches his eye. he’s simple, not demanding, not exhausting you of every last penny in your account.
not that you would… really care? leon could do anything, absolutely anything, and you’d forgive him. he doesn’t need your forgiveness, not for the sassy little jokes he makes, not for the way he awkwardly says the wrong thing at the wrong time in conversation. leon was easy to forgive. easy to adore.
but, that's off topic. you try not to think about how lovable the pretty thing was. too easily you could get lost in him, never make it out alive.
he’s not demanding, he just uses your money to pay for his rent and take care of himself, his bills, his utilities and groceries, stuff like that. or well he used to use the money to pay for his rent, but now that he’s moved in with you, he doesn’t even have that expense anymore. he might treat himself and buy himself a little something small he normally couldn’t afford. the rest he’ll save.
can you blame the guy for being so cheap? he finished the police academy, but the job he had lined up fell through. so what is he supposed to do? work a minimum wage job? serve tables until he dies or his body gives out on him? sue him for wanting better for himself.
and so… he met you. he had no intention of using you.. at first. but even now he feels bad. he truly can’t get on board with being a sugar baby, he feels like he’s extorting you. you have to tell him each and every time his bank account number skyrockets that you will always have enough to continue your lifestyle, what's the point of just having the rest of it sitting around when you could be giving it to a pretty little thing like him?
still.. sometimes leon feels awful. can’t help it no matter what you tell him.
he just can’t really afford to say no to the money, because now he has all of his debt paid off and an emergency fund and a savings account for fun trips to take you on and another one for expensive gifts to buy you as a small, tiny, miniscule thank you. it’s only one part of how he really shows his gratitude. you’ve given him a better life than he could ever give himself, and he will never forget that.
how else does he show his gratitude?
you make it home, and immediately see the containers of chicken nuggets on the kitchen counter. you chuckle, again, endeared by leon’s choice of cuisine. it was what he wanted, after all, and you always let him have whatever he wanted. it’s so representative of him. they’re inexpensive, perfect for someone so frugal like him. they’re a comfort food, easy on the stomach, they’re delicious, and that’s probably all of the comparisons you could make between chicken nuggets and leon kennedy before you burst out laughing in delirium.
“oh thank god you’re home…” he says softly, reaching to grab your bag and your coat to put up so you can sit down, “i’m so glad you’re back, you must have worked so hard today.”
you lean in to press a quick kiss to his lips before doing so, and he’s immediately left dazed after just one little half-a-second long kiss. his eyes follow you as you collapse on the couch, “yeah, it was a long one. just glad to be back with you, baby.”
his heart aches for you as you sink into the couch, exhaustion present in your entire demeanor, seeping off of you through the cracks in your composure.
he knows what’ll make you feel better. or at least… he hopes he does. if you’re not in the mood, he’ll just laugh awkwardly and try to play it off.
he takes a deep breath in, bracing himself for the awkwardness that always comes with saying this word, “…mommy,” he whispers, and he immediately has all of your attention, suddenly all that exhaustion in your soul is replaced by an intensity that he can’t quite understand.
one word… and you’re already losing your composure? he didn’t know he was that good.
“baby…” you coo back to him, almost warning him. as if you’re saying, if you start this, you better be ready to see it through.
“wanna help you… feel better, mommy…” he says, his fingertips brushing against your thigh. fucking tease.
you always look at him like he puts the stars in the sky, but now? you’re looking at him like you want him seeing stars.
“you sure?”
“positive,” he mumbles.
again, this is all he has to give you. his love, his soul, his… body. he doesn’t want this to be transactional, sexual submission for money. he’s not a prostitute, but he genuinely has nothing else that even comes close to the value of gifts and money and just fucking everything you’ve given him.
you don’t ask for sex too often, even when he knows you’re horny. you’re so obvious but so understanding that your kinks and preferences are a little foreign to him. in his defense, he’s had one girlfriend right before he met you and she was the most vanilla person in the goddamn world. genuinely he could have switched positions on her and she would have thought it was too much.
“take me what you want from me, mommy,” he whispers, and yet for someone so inexperienced, he does it so well.
so well that you can’t help pouncing on him, pinning him underneath you. he feels your gentle yet firm grip on his wrists, the way your hair falls in front of your face as you hover on top of him, and he just has the softest urge to tuck it behind your ear. he can’t, but he wishes he could.
he doesn't get the chance to think about it much when your lips find his neck and he is immediately melted by their softness, their gentleness that makes him want to just break down and sob. he just wants to be treated softly, just wants to be held down and kissed like you’re doing right now.
“please,” he breathes, ironic because all you do is steal his breath away. your lips touch just over his subtle adam’s apple as you switch sides, pressing kisses into his neck, collarbone, and shoulder. he kind of wants you to bite down, leave red and purple aching bruises covering his neck, make him shudder and tremble with every love bite.
he knows you won’t.
“i don’t damage what’s mine,” you’d said once, and it left him dizzy. so casually asserting your ownership over him like that had his cock twitching in his pants. you very quickly learned to take advantage of his affection towards your possessiveness. you have to be subtle and you can’t do it too much, but every once and a while, you take your opportunity. you make your small little comments, you add ‘my’ in front of a pet name, you eye him like a piece of meat (intentionally being obvious so he’ll notice), etc.
your possessiveness is even better if it’s sort of objectifying. he might just like it more.
he wishes he could touch you, but what would it even be for? if you wanted him to make you feel good, you’d have shoved his face between your legs, tangled your fingers in his blonde hair, moaned as he ate your pussy while looking up at you with those pretty blue eyes, so full of an emotion you wanted to study in detail. it couldn’t be love, there’s no way. you settle for something else, even if it’s less satisfying.
devotion.
and even with your cock buried deep, deep inside of him, stretching him open and filling him up entirely, he’s still got that same glimmer of devotion in his eyes, but that’s irrelevant.
it’s irrelevant because he’s a desperate mess of a man right now and it’s all you should be concerned with, “mommy, fuck, please, i—”
“say you belong to me, pretty boy,” you groan in his ear, his body shivering and trembling at the pleasure that’s about to hit him. he’s gotta wait for your permission, though.
“yours, yours, fuck, all yours, my fucking body belongs to you, you can- you can use it whenever you want, however you want, for however long. it doesn't matter,” he cries,’s his voice raspy, he trying to keep himself together and he’s failing miserably, “fuck, fuck, god, and i- my body… i owe you my body as a thank you for- oh, f-fuck!- for your m-money, i- it’s all i can give you that’s worth anything-.”
“…yeah? you owe me?” you smirk, pressing your hand against his lower stomach, feeling the bulge your cock inside him. it drives you insane. he’s babbling about something you don’t care to listen to. something about being indebted to you, that sex is him paying you back for how perfect you are. you don’t listen. it’ll just make you sad.
“gonna give me what i want, right? because you owe me,” you say. sure, you felt bad, but you never said you were pure good. you’re entitled to leon and everything he could possibly give you, aren’t you?
he tries to speak, but your cock always makes him as stupid as can be. he tries, oh he tries, to respond, to say yes, i’ll give you everything, i’m all yours to claim and keep forever, but the sounds come out as jumbled moans out of the back of his throat. he gives up trying to talk, clearly that’s beyond him now, and communicates his feelings by holding your waist gently, his fingertips pressing against your skin.
he moans out absolutely pathetically as you thrust in and out of him, keeping him held down with your hands pushing down on his shoulders. his body contorts to your will, his soul too. you could do anything to him and get away with it, with him in this beautiful headspace.
he’s gorgeous like this, and you take a moment to admire him. glassy, distant , tear filled eyes, sweaty blonde hair, skin little with small marks of whatever lip product you use. god, he’s nothing less than fucking perfect.
if only you both didn’t have responsibilities in your everyday lives because the only thing that could make him prettier is if he was like this every single day, fucked out of his mind, desperate, stupid from the pleasure of your cock pushing firmly against his prostate.
“gonna cum, baby?” you ask maliciously, knowing he didn’t have enough of his mind working to even register the question, “gonna give yourself over to mommy? live in her home, let her keep you as a pet? couldn’t leave her even if you wanted to, and you definitely don’t.”
he looks for an out as his eyes shift up at the ceiling, still somehow finding it in himself to be shy.
“look at me,” you growl, one hand moving to his face to cup his cheek, fingertips brushing against his jaw. he obeys, making weak eye contact, blinking the tears away from his eyes, “ask me for permission to cum.”
cruel? yes, because the most his stupid mind can come up with to say is that pretty name you make him call you, “m-mommy…”
you remember him looking at you confused, almost a little uncomfortable, when you said you liked that name. it definitely tracks, you’re his sugar mommy… and you expect him to call him mommy. not exactly revolutionary, but his hesitancy to do so is what makes these moments truly special. earlier, he said it intentionally, mainly to get your attention and get you riled up, distracted from work and responsibilities.
but now? he truly can’t help it falling past his lips. every time he says it, or more accurately moans it, he feels even more attached to it, attached to you. he’s imagined saying it more casually, in everyday conversation, but he could never get over how humiliating it felt.
you graciously let him call you by name most of the time, something he has been endlessly grateful for.
but in this headspace, leon can’t think of a single other word but mommy.
“c’mon, sweetheart. won’t get any easier to think with mommy’s cock deep inside of you. mommy can wait all night sweetheart, but i’m not sure you can.”
he can’t. he knows he can’t cum because you haven’t given him permission, but he can’t ask permission if you keep saying things that make him dumber and slower. he can hold off his orgasm for a while when he tops, he’s gotten decently good at that, but with your cock filling him up like this? he would be lucky if he lasted another minute.
“fuck- ah, mommy… m-mommy, plea…. please…” he breathes heavily, trying so damn hard, it melts your heart how badly he’s trying for you.
“please what, baby? you know i’ll say yes, just ask mommy what you want.”
wet cheeks and trembling lips from him make your heart ache for him. you’d give him anything.
“c-cum, mommy?…. c-can i…?”
you nod, biting your lip, almost more excited than he is to watch him fall apart, “mhm, ‘course, baby… let go for mommy, i got you… here…” you say, taking a hold of his cock to jerk him off through his orgasm to get everything you can from him, milk him for all he’s worth. his body tries to give you everything it can.
his eyes shut tightly as he gives you the loudest moan probably… ever? you’ve never heard him cry out like that, and you wish you could have recorded it to go back and hear it again. his voice breaks, and he takes a sharp breath in, holding it as his muscles tense and spasm until he’s left achy and exhausted and filled to the brim with pleasure.
“awhh…. so cute, baby…” you mumble, “c’mon, give me all of it, don’t make me make you cum again. if it’s anything like the first, you might just pass out, sweet boy.”
“ah… oh, oh my god,” he breathes heavily, twitching, “mommy… mommy, i- mommy, please… please, mommy,” he can’t stop thinking about it. mommy is all he can think about like this.
he cries, literally. the kind where you can’t help sobbing and sniffing and you curl in on yourself in a desperate attempt to self soothe. you half expected it; leon usually cries after more intense sex. he doesn’t know why, but usually he’s embarrassed of it and tries to hide it. he must just be too far gone right now to care.
you pull out, earning a desperate whine that makes you want to rail it back into him, balls deep, watch him squeeze his eyes shut tightly and him scream in pleasure, but you restrain yourself. he's crying right now. even though he would technically consent, he wouldn’t really want it.
you take 30 seconds to clean both of you off, and those 30 seconds are tortuous to him, even if you’re praising him the whole time.
that’s it. his greatest weakness. praise.
no, your praise.
to be told he’s good, to be told he did a good job, to be told you’re proud of him. he sobs as he soaks in your praise like a sponge. he wants to listen to your sweet words every single day for the rest of his life. you whisper to him how he’s perfect, everything about him is, how you adore him, wanna give him everything so he’ll stay with you forever, etc.
in his defense, he has absolutely zero control over what he’s saying right now, but he looks up at you, with tear-filled, red eyes, his bottom lip trembling just slightly, “you don’t have to give me stuff… i’m always gonna be yours.”
and it hits a nerve you haven’t felt in a long time. maybe it’s the subspace he’s in, or maybe you’re reading the situation wrong, so you don’t push it, but something inside your heart feels… off.
to put it bluntly, he shouldn’t be yours. he should find someone he could really love to spend his days with. there’s no reason for leon to stay with you if you stopped giving him money, paying his bills, and taking care of him. at least, there shouldn’t be?
oh, unless…
a couple hours later, you’re sitting at the kitchen counter with him, eating cold chicken nuggets and giggling about whatever you were watching on tv. leon looks at you a little differently than usual right now, his eyes softer, fonder than you’re used to. his eyes carefully track your more animated hand movements as you passionately explain something about this show. he has no idea what you’re talking about; he just likes hearing you speak.
he kisses the corner of your lip when you jokingly ask if you have anything on your face, which turns into a full kiss that leaves him a little breathless, that feeling of excitement and nerves returning in his stomach.
yeah, he thinks to himself, pure, unadulterated beauty.
as you kiss, he pulls back to look into your eyes, looking at you as if you held up each individual constellation for him, with a godly reverence that would almost turn you on if the moment wasn’t weirdly romantic.
“baby…?” your voice sounds shaky and unsure, and he doesn’t miss your lack of composure.
maybe that was a good thing. a sign.
he chuckles, “nothing, mommy… nothing at all.”
673 notes · View notes
greatwyrmgold · 2 months
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After finishing Dungeon Meshi, I had a lot of thoughts. Most of them were thoughts I'd seen echoed by other people, but there's one thing I don't think I've seen anyone else say:
Everyone hates Laios.
Obviously Kabru makes hating Laios his whole personality for a while, and the western elves think he'd be a dreadful dungeon master Lord of the Dungeon, and half of his party gets annoyed by his enthusiasm for monster cuisine. But I'm not talking about that.
Let's start with how almost literally everyone thinks he'd be the worst possible Lord of the Dungeon.
(cut this down)
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This isn't just Kabru being in his "hating Laios is my entire personality" phase; everyone assumes that Laios's desires being fulfilled by the dungeon would be bad for humanity.
To be clear, they're wrong. Sure, Laios is susceptible to the Winged Lion's temptation, but so is everyone. At least Laios's stint as ersatz dungeon lord didn't have a body count! (Unless you count the Winged Lion's clones.)
But that doesn't matter, does it? People hated him before he reveals his obsession with monsters, and they have no shortage of reasons. Laios keeps talking about monsters and asking unwanted questions, he can't hold a normal conversation, he can't read the room or understand social cues, he doesn't fit in anywhere.
Laios does his best to act normal (most obviously when he pretends not to notice the Golden Country spirit because no one else sees it), but it's not good enough. People can still tell that he's different. They hate him when he acts weird and they hate him when he acts normal. Don't take it from me; take it from Chilchuck.
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The left panel is the whole reason this post exists. It states in plain English that Laios would still be ostracized even if he only said "reasonable" things. People's distaste and distrust of him isn't rooted in how he acts or what he says, but in who he is.
...
Pretty much anyone who knows what they're talking about accepts that Laios is autistic. Probably also Falin, maybe also other party members, but Laios is definitely the poster boy for Dunmeshi autism. And the reasons people hate him are pretty closely aligned with his autism. That's usually subtext, but Shuro says the quiet part out loud.
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Shuro doesn't know about the monster-eating or think Laios is gonna destroy humanity. He just can't stand Laios's eccentricities. And he's far from alone.
We don't see a lot of Laios's childhood, outside his interactions with Falin...but the subtext isn't great. You don't need to be a seasoned dungeoneer to recognize that someone is "different"; any kid can do it. And from the sparse glimpses we've seen of the Thorden parents—Laios's nightmare, the little indications that he shaves to avoid looking like his father, etc—they don't seem to have accepted their son's differences, either.
I doubt anyone in the Dungeon Meshi world knows the word "autism". If you tried to explain it to the Thorden party, their reactions would probably range from "Are you sure that's a thing?" to "Come on, everyone thinks like that sometimes, right?" But you don't need words to recognize difference, or to loathe it, or to make different people's lives hell. To make them want to escape their lives, by whatever means are necessary.
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Is it any wonder Laios identifies with monsters, when so many people already treat him like one?
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eggluverz · 10 months
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— LADY FU'S MATCHMAKING SERVICE
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PAIRING. jing yuan x gn!reader
WARNINGS. gn reader but they are wearing a dress
WORD COUNT. 1,933
GENRE. blind date au, in-universe setting
SUMMARY. fu xuan thinks the lonely general needs to go on a date, and you are just the person she wants to set him up with.
SOF’S NOTE. for some reason the moment i write for jing yuan i’m like LET’S FOCUS ON HIS LIPS! HIS SMIRK! HIS EYES! and that’s basically what the whole fic is on i’m sorry but what he so pretty for :/ ahdkalc anyway pls enjoy!!
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Fu Xuan wanted what was best for the Xianzhou. And she was certain the solutions she drew from her calculated predictions would were what was best for Xianzhou. However, there were some situations in which Fu Xuan didn’t need her third eye or the Matrix of Prescience to know what would be best. 
One situation included the general’s love life. 
Or rather, lack thereof if she wanted to be particular. 
The general seemed unsatisfied, almost lonely at times. Fu Xuan didn’t recall the last time Jing Yuan had ever gone on a date. It wasn’t as if she herself had much leisure time to attend meetings with potential romantic partners, but she also wasn’t half as unsatisfied with her life as Jing Yuan was. 
Besides, if the general were to find someone to be with, perhaps he’d be more likely to abdicate sooner. 
“Well, General,” asked Fu Xuan, eyes widen with hope, “what do you say?”
A half-smile stayed on Jing Yuan’s face. “Lady Fu, need I remind you this is the fourth time you’ve asked that this month?” 
“You do not need to remind me, I’m well aware,” she said with her arms folded. “I simply hope you’ll genuinely consider it this time. The person I have in mind is kind and intelligent, I know you wouldn’t regret just one date.” 
The general signed, gently stroking his chin. It took a lot for him to lose his patience, so Fu Xuan knew pushing him like this wouldn’t lead to any trouble.
“Do you truly believe I need to go on a date—a blind date, at that?”
“I believe it would be best for your health and wellbeing. Thus, it would best for the Xianzhou Luofu in order to have the best version of their general.”
Jing Yuan sighed louder this time, sounding more amused than frustrated. “If I agree to go on this blind date, do you agree to stop asking me to go on them?”
Fu Xuan nodded eagerly. “If my calculations are correct, you won’t need to go on a blind date with anyone else.”
“I suppose Lady Fu’s calculations are never wrong.”
˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖
You weren’t sure who you would be seeing on your date today. Naturally, that was the purpose of a blind date. 
Your acquaintance, Fu Xuan, proposed the idea of this blind match up to help out someone close to her. Since you were single and currently not opposed to dating, you figured it would be worth a try. You just wondered who in the world could the head of the Divination Commission set you up with. 
As calm as you may have seemed, you were somewhat nervous about this date. You knew the people she associated with tended to be highly ranked officials. And while you were a scholar by profession, you still felt just the slightly bit intimidated by the idea. You reminded yourself whoever it was is was just another person like you, and you had no reason to fear. 
You walked into Garden of Gourmet, the restaurant Fu Xuan told you to meet your blind date at, and were immediately greeted by the smell of classic Xianzhou Luofu cuisine. Your eyes scanned the place, landing on the corner table that Fu Xuan said she told your date to sit at. It didn’t take very long to spot the person sitting at the booth. 
Your eyes widened, checking your messages to see if you read what Fu Xuan sent incorrectly. Unfortunately for you, you did not. You read her message right and that was indeed the man she set you up with for dinner. 
The general.
Fu Xuan told you to wear yellow so your date would know it was you. You were donned in a metallic gold dress that you figured was close enough to yellow, and definitely enough to stand out in a crowd. 
Despite the bright gold sign on your body telling your blind date that you were here, you were tempted to see if you could walk out of the restaurant before he could notice. Then, you realized that would mean you were going to stand the general up if you didn’t show, and that simply wouldn’t do.
While you were deciding whether or not to stay or go, the general spotted you staring and slowly raised his hand. His hooded eyes crinkled up in a small smile; his demeanor looked almost smug and you weren’t sure if he was trying to greet you or challenge you. 
Realizing there was no chance of turning back now, you walked over to him, head held high. You swayed your hips side to side and gave him a sideways grin as you approached. 
“I’m guessing you’re my date for the day?”
The general kept his eyes trained on yours, nodding as he sized you up. “Correct. My name is Jing Yuan.“
He introduced himself as if all of Xianzhou didn’t already know who he was. Still, you were thankful for his introduction. He stood up as you grew closer, walking around the table to pull your chair out for you. 
“I’m Y/N,” you said, slipping into the seat. His hands stayed holding the backrest even as you leaned back. “Thank you.”
He made a hum of acknowledgment.
Jing Yuan stayed above you for a brief moment before pushing your chair back in. He then returned to his original spot across from you and handed you a menu. The two of you ordered wine and food and it was served shortly. 
“So, Jing Yuan,” you said, carefully  placing your hand around a glass of wine and drinking gingerly, “forgive me if this is rude, but… What is the General of the Cloud Knights doing on a blind date?” 
His lopsided smile widened as he took a sip of his own. “Enjoying his time with a lovely person, of course.”
You let out a small noise of laughter. “Well, I’m certainly glad to hear that.”
Jing Yuan disregarded all table etiquette and rested his cheek on his hand while leaning onto the table. “Lady Fu was very persistent, to answer in full. But she also seems adamant that this is what’s best for me.” He smiled up at you from his nonchalant position. “And why is such a beautiful person as yourself on this blind date?”
His flattery made you shake your head. You knew he was partly teasing you for your own question, but his compliment still made you feel warm inside. There was something about his lidded eyes and mischievous drawl that made you want to cling onto every word he said. 
You replied, “Fu Xuan can be quite convincing, as you know.” The two of you exchanged a dry smile. “Besides, I am single right now and it seemed like a good time to get to meet someone knew. Little did I know it’d be the general himself.”
“Do you regret it now that you know?” he mused, straightening up in his seat. He tilted his head, wanting to hear your answer. “Would you have gone on this blind date if you knew it would’ve been with me?”
You thought back at the moment when you first saw him at the corner table and grew sheepish. When you saw the general, you did want to leave at first. You weren’t one to get tangled up in political drama; you simply wanted to enjoy your life and your prestige while continuing to read and learn.
“When I saw you here, I was debating on leaving,” you admitted. Noticing his expression tighten, you continued, “But once I got out of my own head, I realized there was nothing to be nervous about.” 
His brows perked up and you smirked at his eagerness. Did the general care this much about what you thought of him? How…fun. 
“I was still nervous because you’re really handsome and charming, naturally. But those are a different kind of nerves that I don’t mind.”
Jing Yuan leaned back in his seat, swirling the wine around in his glass, “Different how?”
“One kind of nerves is due to being slightly intimidated, maybe insecure even, at my own standing compared to yours. The other is due to the attraction I’m feeling—nerves like butterflies, if you will.”
“What caused your attraction towards me?” he asked, eyes lighting up with amusement. 
Now you leaned back in your chair, folding your arms over your chest with a coy smile. “Are you looking for compliments, General?” 
“I just want to know what I’m doing right with you,” Jing Yuan corrected, looking between his glass of wine and the dip of your dress in deep thought. “Perhaps so I can continue having your attraction.”
You almost laughed at his words. In what world would the general have to ask for anyone’s attention. Either he was flattering you or he was much less experienced with dating than you would’ve ever imagined. 
“Well, besides the obvious that is your looks, I like how you pull my chair out for me, how you fill my glass for me, how you maintain such strong eye contact,” you listed out the things you’ve noticed about Jing Yuan during your brief time with him this far, your gaze wandering around his face until they landed on his lush, pink lips, “how your lips stay in that lopsided smile…”
His eyes crinkled. “Staring at the general’s lips? That’s rather indecent, no?” 
“I’m sure he’s staring at mine, too. So it’s only fair.”
“I am.” Jing Yuan raised his hands in the air as if he was caught in the act. “And I find myself very attracted to you as well.”
“What do you find attractive about me?”
“Other than your lips?” he clarified with a chuckle. You laughed along at his teasing, watching as a more serious expression took over his face. “I’m attracted to how you present yourself with confidence and elegance yet can still grow shy with nerves and butterflies. Your honesty and openness is something I admire. I like the way you stick your pinky finger up when you drink. And how your eyes brighten when you smile...”
You were holding your breath by the end of it, waiting to hear what he had to stay. Jing Yuan had such a soft, yet commanding tone, fit for a general, but gentle enough to be a lover. 
“I haven’t been on many blind dates, but even so, this one has been my favorite,” you said, leaning forward as if you were whispering a secret to him. 
He matched your stance, his voice quiet as he murmured, “I haven’t been on any before this, but I don’t think I’ll go on any more.”
“Did I make the experience that bad for you?” you joked, a grin on your face. “Such that you never want to go on a blind date again?”
The general shook his head, though he knew your question wasn’t serious. You both knew how well this date was going. “Of course, that’s not it,” he said. “Lady Fu was simply correct. After this, I’ll never feel the need to go on one again.”
“Why?” Craning your neck to the side, you asked a question you knew the answer to. You just wanted to hear it straight from Jing Yuan’s pretty mouth. 
His lopsided smile widened and you were seconds away from leaning in further to kiss them. 
“Because,” he said slowly, the tip of his tongue wetting the corner of his mouth as his gaze stayed trained on yours, “I’ve already found what I’m looking for on the first one.”
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