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#No real plot
0kayblue · 1 year
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Domestic Cravings
Domestic Cravings
Leon comes home early from a mission and stays determined not to wake you by going to his apartment instead of yours. When greeted with a more than pleasant surprise he’s unable to stop himself from asking the big question. 
Main Character Relations: Leon Kennedy x reader (romantic) 
Word Count: 2k (a little over) 
Fluff, fluff, fluff !!! 
A/N: Sometimes I don’t write angst. Sometimes. Anyway, I guess you could consider this a Valentine's Day present. Personally, I hate the holiday, but I do love to treat others. Enjoy! 
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Leon sighed, the weight of his most recent mission weighing heavily on his shoulders. All things considered things went smoothly and everything wrapped up into a nice little bow earlier than expected. He was scheduled to be there for the next two days, but he ran into one of those rare circumstances where he made it back early. 
As he looked at the door handle to his front door he seriously debated his most recent plan to retreat to the solitude of his own apartment. This isn’t where he wanted to be. He wanted to experience the warmth of your doorway. He wanted to crawl into your bed and find comfort in your embrace. But it was so late and the sun basically just set and you had to have been asleep. Not to mention he’d probably be throwing a wrench in your plans for the next day and the last thing he wanted was to be seen as a burden. 
So, selflessly Leon opened the front door. The apartment was cold as he disregarded his heavy duffel bag to the side. He shut and locked the door behind him as he kicked off his boots, too tired to be bothered to put them away just then. He ran his hand down his face as he sauntered into the kitchen. Exhaustion felt like an understatement, as his limbs felt heavy as he headed towards the fridge. The bright light caused him to squint as he was greeted to the sight of a fully stocked fridge. He smiled knowing that you had already started taking care of the little things for him. He grabbed the carton of orange juice before shutting the door. 
It really only made things harder as he set the carton on the kitchen island as he grabbed a glass. He had a key and he was always more than welcome, he lived there just as much as he lived here, if not more so. You have been dating for a year and had gotten the big three words out and expressed your love whenever and wherever it came about. Rather it be just an exchange of the sentiment via words or actions, he knew you loved him. He knew that you truly, deeply, genuinely loved him. You saw the good and the bad and still adored him. He couldn’t make any sense of it, but humans are creatures who are always harsher on themselves than on others. 
Your apartment always felt so homey and inviting, granted that could have just been because it was considerably smaller, but he digresses. He spent more time there than he did in the luxury suite that was located on the finer side of town. Big tall windows that allowed natural light in easily, a view of the city that ‘justified’ the rent prices. In all honesty he only chose to live here due to the fact that it was so close to the office. Even though he wondered why he even bothered being close to the office when he woke up in your bed most days anyway. 
Pouring his drink he started to really consider why you still remained in two separate housing units. Truth be told he never asked you to move in. He supposed you could’ve asked, but it wasn’t in your nature. You weren’t one to ask someone to pack up their life and throw everything away to be with you. He would in a heartbeat, there wouldn’t be a second thought about it; but it all goes back to people being harsher on themselves than other people. That and the fact that his work played a big factor in everything that Leon does. He was constantly stuck between a rock and a hard place.
Finishing his drink with huge gulps he was unsure if you were even willing to give your place up. It was your first apartment and the rent wasn’t too bad- all things considered- your landlord was tolerable and neighbors were friendly enough. The walls were paper thin and the unit needed a multitude of repairs. Long story short, the place was old, Leon has had a number of things redone there; in fact the first thing he did was replace the locks. He was trying to talk you into a whole security system, but you shut him down. Having to deal with your landlord over the locks was a hassle on its own, you didn’t want to bother trying to reason with him over a high tech military grade security system. 
Your safety and wellbeing was on the top of Leon’s list and he used it in his arguments. But you just rolled your eyes and pointed out that he doesn’t even use his own security system. The thing did nothing but collect dust by the front door. It was your main argument and it stood firm, you told him that once he started using his own you would think about going toe to toe with your landlord over it, but until then his argument was null and void. 
He countered though with the fact that his apartment didn’t hold anything valuable. Sure, it had monetary value out the ass; but anything he had that was worth anything could be perceived as trash to the naked eye. A box full of movie tickets, cards, postcards, and blurry photos was not worth a dime. The memories that the items held were priceless, but they wouldn’t do a thing for anyone else. 
As he went to turn on the sink he noticed the dishwasher light was on, signaling that the dishwasher had finished its job. A crooked little smirk pulled on his face, not only did you go grocery shopping but you took care of the dishes. How lucky could he possibly be? A sense of a domestic life that he craved washing over him. It was time, he wanted you here, or he could stay there, it really didn’t matter. Either place would be home as long you were there. 
Turning off the sink he heard the floor creek. He set the glass in the sink slowly as he reached for Matilda that rested in his waistband. He was careful, he was sure he wasn’t followed, whoever was here had been here. His brain immediately went to you; second guessing having you move in. He moved quickly facing the hall, his arms outstretched and his finger on the trigger, “You’ve got three seconds.” He threatened and as he heard your deep sigh of relief he softened, setting the gun on the counter. You stepped into his line of vision as he flicked on the kitchen light, “(Y/N)?” He called out your name as he watched you shake slightly. The gap between the two of you was closed quickly as he pulled you to his chest with relief.
“You scared the shit out of me.” You said setting the gun you had down on the nearby couch end table. Wrapping your arms around him you scolded him, “You got off early and you didn’t call me?” 
“I scared you? You scared me.” He defended light heartly, “I didn’t want to wake you. It’s nearly three in the morning, baby.” He pulled away from you as he tucked your hair behind your ear. His lips found yours in a gentle kiss that he deepened as you hummed against him. 
“Did a great job at letting me sleep then, dear.” You teased him as you pulled away from him. You brushed his hair out of his eyes, examining the bags and purple hue underneath them.
“How was I supposed to know you were here?” He defended as your thumb ghosted over his cheekbone and you turned bright red. A sense of victory on his face as a wide smile found his features. 
“I just started the dishes and I didn’t want to fight traffic home-…” you peered into an ocean of blue before sighing, “I missed you. I sleep here when I miss you. I sleep here a lot.” You confessed before looking away from him, it was slightly embarrassing for you to admit. You had difficulty expressing that you craved a person. It didn’t make any sense with how open you were about him, but you just chalked it up to your miss independent complex. He just hummed in satisfaction as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. His body relaxed as he kissed your neck with a sense of glee. He went from missing you, to worrying about you, to the joy of knowing that you were within arms reach in a matter of seconds. 
“I missed you more.” He cooed as he kissed your neck, “Glad you’re here.” 
“I love you.” The words fell from your lips so gently and lovingly that his grip on you tightened and you giggled slightly. He made you feel like a teenage girl that was too head over heels for her own good.  “Let’s get you to bed. Shower?” 
“Please.” Your hands found his hands and gently pulled him down the hall and into his room. He noted his side of the bed was the one that you were just resting on; a sense of warmth washing over him. He squeezed your hand gently as you led him into the bathroom. As you let go of him you turned on the shower. He couldn’t help the smile on his face as he looked around and noticed your shampoo and conditioner, toothbrush, lotions, and other toiletries littered in his bathroom. 
You approached him and helped him pull off his shirt, you looked him over. A deep sigh falling from your lips as your heart ached at the sight of bruises and cuts. It hurt to see and you could only imagine the pain he felt. 
“It’s okay, I’m fine. Promise.” 
“This the best they could do to patch you up?”  
“Down, tiger.” He teased as he soaked up your possessive tone.
 You rolled your eyes and turned back to the shower, pulling off your shirt before putting your palm under the running water. You pulled your pajama shorts off and as you turned to face him a sense of nervousness shot up your spine. You usually would tease him about a staring problem, but you were unsure of where his emotions were. Physically he looked exhausted- his movements told you he was exhausted- but mentally you had no idea where he stood. 
Not to mention that you had no clue how he felt about you staying here when he wasn’t here. Sure, he said he was glad you were here, but he never asked you to be here.
“The water is going to get cold if you just keep staring. C’mon.” You nodded to the shower as you undid his pants. His hands found yours, stopping you, as he took care of the rest and disregarded them in the hamper. You tried to place what he was thinking as you climbed into the shower, him not far behind you. 
As the warm water hit his back he let out a sigh of relief. The sound music to your ears as you started messing with his shampoo. You went to work the shampoo in his hair and through half lidded eyes he watched you. A little smile on your face while your tired eyes focused on what you were doing. 
He could get used to this, he was getting used to it. 
He loved you. He loved seeing your things in his space, he loved that you were taking care of him, he loved that you were here. 
You tilted his head gently and started rinsing the shampoo out. A protest never fell from his lips as you scratched his scalp and he moaned softly. You reached for his conditioner and did the same thing, just letting the conditioner sit while scrubbing him down with his signature fresh pine scented shower gel. 
You worshiped him as you bathed him, kissing the cuts and bruises softly as you rinsed him off. He deserved to be taken care of like this and you didn’t mind being the one to do it. It was slightly embarrassing, but he trusted you with his life and you knew his body just as he knew yours. “Relax.” You cooed as you went to get out of the shower, “Stay in here as long as you’d like. I’m going to get you-.” You stopped as he grabbed your wrist and his other hand found your hip. You gave him a concerned look as you scanned his face, you stepped closer to him as he pulled you to his chest. Your fingers tangled themselves into his hair as you tried to soothe him. “Want to talk about it?” 
“No, not really.” He rested his head against your shoulder, “Just want you.” He’s wanted you since he got back, he’s wanted you since he left. You nodded as you held him against you. 
You both stood there until the water started to run cold. It took some convincing but eventually you got him out and in pajamas. You were in bed wearing one of his t-shirts that he practically had to fight you over wearing. Your eyes shut as you listened to his movements in the bathroom, refusing sleep. Waiting for him. 
As Leon turned off the faucet he took a good look in the mirror. A face that had a smile plastered on it as he thought about the woman in his bed. The woman who just doted on him like he was made of glass. The woman who held him so close and made him feel so loved that it all felt worth it. The woman that he wanted to take his last name. 
He left the bathroom and stood in the doorway as the bathroom light illuminated you just enough to where he could watch your chest rise and fall. As your eyes opened he was held captive as you smiled. 
“What?” You asked through a yawn as you pulled the covers up to your shoulders while you stretched. 
“I love you.” He beamed as he turned off the bathroom light and climbed into his side of the bed. Your scent flying off of the fabric of his sheets as the radiant warmth of your presence drew him in. Wrapping his arm around your torso he pulled you to him. 
“I love you more.” Your voice heavy with sleep as you cuddled against his chest. He adored these moments where you didn’t fight with your words and just said what you were feeling. 
He chuckled, “Not a chance in hell, sweetheart.” He kissed your forehead as you yawned. “Go to sleep.” He cooed as he rubbed a hand firmly up and down your back. 
“Leon…?” You muttered against his chest. 
“Yes, baby?” 
“I’m sorry if you didn’t want me here while you’re not here. I won’t do it again.” He raised an eyebrow at the apologetic sorrow in your tone. He knew your past, he knew your uncertainty, but he could’ve sworn that he told you he was glad you were here. “I just missed you and if I crossed a line-.” 
“Hey, hey.” He shushed you, “I’m glad you're here, remember? I want you here. Forever and always. Okay?” You nodded and tried not to sniffle. 
“Okay.” You fisted the hem of his shirt as you tried to keep yourself calm against him. He kissed your forehead before petting your hair. Your eyes were shut and your breathing was starting to slow to the pace that it does when you sleep. 
He knew he should wait, but he was too excited. 
“Baby?” He looked down at you as you hummed in response telling him to go ahead with his question. That you were still listening and ready to talk about whatever he needed. His thumb brushed against your cheek as he admired you, “Will you marry me?” 
Your tired eyes opened, “What?” You were in a state of disbelief. 
He asked again, “Marry me?” Silence fell over the room as the cold chill of uncertainty worked its way through his blood stream. What was he thinking? Was he thinking? You didn’t even live with him and you’d been together for only a year. Wasn’t the next step just to ask you to move in? That was the logical question. Was it too late to rephrase the question? Could he save this somehow? 
“Yes.” You answered honestly, “Yes, I’ll marry you.” He let out a deep breath of relief before his lips found yours. His kiss was deep and passionate as he adjusted himself to be level with you. You welcomed him as you melted against him. Exchanging passion and overwhelming love within each kiss. Each parting one leaves a lasting imprint against your souls. 
He regretfully parted from you to get a good look at you. To judge based on what he knew if this was truly something you wanted. Your bright smile causes him to let out a chuckle of relief before leaning his forehead against yours. You laughed alongside him as your hand intertwined with his, “I love you, Mrs. Kennedy.” He said he ran his hand through your hair. It fell so naturally from his lips that you could’ve sworn that it had always been your last name. 
“I haven’t signed any papers yet.” You joked before peppering a couple kisses on his cheek, “Don’t even have a ring yet.” 
He rolled his eyes before his lips captured yours, “It’s in the closet.” He mumbled as he held your face against his. 
“Mhm.” You moaned against his lips, even though you didn’t believe him. He was telling you the truth, hidden in his safe was a little black velvet box that held the engagement ring he picked out six months ago.  
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ihavemanyhusbands · 3 months
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(Un)holy
Raven-haired angel, lover and executioner both, darkening your doorstep with his long shadow. When you looked up, his halo was so bright it obscured his face, except for his eyes; The flint that sparked a fire inside of you.
The echo of church bells rang in the cathedral of your mind and you trembled in anticipation. Was it really time for service? Communion? Sacrifice?
Of course, he’d come to get you. He loved you, after all. Oh, how he loved you! You could see it plain as day in his stare, ardent and ravenous.
His fingers dug into your soft wool, scratching behind your ears. Your eyes were wide and docile as a doe’s, glazed over with a devotion reserved solely for divinity. How prettily your cheeks flushed, too, at his nearness.
The thin rope he’d placed upon your throat tugged you forward, the other end held in his fist. This way, my sweet, follow my voice.
Oh, his voice…. Like a river of honey pouring forth from that bewitching smile. Sharp and luminous as a crescent moon, or a scythe glinting beneath it. He could never lead you astray.
He was a wolf-headed shepherd and you willingly lay yourself on a silver platter in front of him. You, who were his only sustenance, the one he constantly craved. The one he would devour time and time again.
His most sacred lamb, indeed.
His love was best felt when he tore you asunder, lapping you up like the most delectable ambrosia. You adored him all the while, praying for his claws and his fangs as they sank into your pliant flesh.
You said his name deliriously, pearlescent tears gathered at your lashes, over and over again — John, oh, John…
You, his first and only supplicant, the most faithful of subjects. So willing, so earnest. He truly did love you, in his way. After all, you got him closer to understanding godliness.
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surprisearson · 3 months
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Went into dungeon meshi expecting Marcille to be peak fail girl and she IS but I feel like it's extremely important context that she is mainly that within her party. Outside of that she is a highly dangerous mage with a massive repository of knowledge who routinely survives threats that insta kill other people. Inside her party she yells too loud about dinner plans and almost drowns to death in slime tho
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watchyourbuck · 23 days
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I don’t think yall understand how meaningful it is to have Oliver say “when you close your eyes it all feels the same” (kissing on screen). The fact that he doesn’t laugh it off, or say he had to push through it, or that it was a little weird like other actors have in the past is so incredibly important. This is him portraying a character and his sexuality, and it’s so validating to have the actor do his job the way Oliver has, in such a caring, positive way. It’s the feeling of finally belonging, of blending in when you’ve been marginalized and picked out all your life. Love is love, and a kiss is just a kiss.
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cursingtoji · 2 months
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“hm hello? do you need help?” yuuji approached the lady walking the hallways so slowly she seemed lost.
“huh?” you turned and he smiled, thinking how gorgeous you looked. your uniform was a lot like nobara’s, although it was lighter, like it was slightly bleached or just worn a lot, “no, i… i go here.”
“oh are you gojo-sensei’s student too?” he was excited to meet another student, it was such a big school for just a few people.
“gojo… sensei” you repeated confused.
“oh you must be utahime-sensei’s student then? from kyoto?” he tilted his head, like a puppy.
“utahime…” you whispered, “is geto here?” you asked with a certain urgency in your voice, “geto suguru.”
“who? geto?” he scratched his head, trying to remember if he heard about a sensei called geto suguru, “i don’t think i—“
“itadori!” megumi called from outside, yuuji saw him die below through the open windows of the second floor he was at, his classmate probably saw him as well.
“ah fushiguro!” he greeted his friend and turned back to you, “i’ll ask megumi, he’s been here for longer than me.”
“who you talking to?!” megumi shouted.
“her!” he pointed, you were in front of him, right by the opened window too, he couldn’t see you?
megumi even moved a bit, “itadori, there’s no one there. stop playing, we got to leave!” megumi scolded him before entering the building.
“eh?” yuuji was frowning.
“sorry, i think i’m in the wrong place” you bowed and turned away running.
“wait!” he ran after you, turning corners he thought you could’ve gone but after a few ones he reached a dead end.
“hm? yuuji?” gojo emerged from a classroom.
“gojo-sensei! there was… someone…” he looked around.
“oi, we’re waiting for you, let’s go” megumi came from where he was, grabbing yuuji by the hood of his uniform and dragging him away.
gojo watched through a window as they walked down the staircase until both boys walked out of the building.
“that was weird” you murmured from inside the classroom he was in, “that boy called you sensei” you put more rice into your hungry mouth, “does yaga know you’re pretending to be a teacher here?”
satoru closed the door, lighting another incense on the table that you used to sit. where every year on the anniversary of your death he built a shrine with food you liked.
“i thought haibara was in a mission but i saw him by the tree” you pointed behind you with your chopsticks, where, outside the classroom and behind the building remained the tree you always had lunch underneath during hot summer days.
he undid the blindfold, letting his hair fall as he sat in front of you, admiring how you never aged a day. after all, you couldn’t.
in fact, it seemed like you didn’t realize how much time has passed. every year you appeared and every year you thought it was still 2006, when you had two kouhais that did everything you asked, a girl best friend that insisted you smoked with her and two boys that were helplessly in love with you. the last year you were alive.
“is suguru not coming?” you asked with your mouth full.
gojo swallowed hard, “no, angel. it’s just us.”
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anthyies · 11 months
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the thing about disco elysium is that it has women in it. what you see on the internet about it might lie to you about that but it has women, gay women even, very compelling women even, in it.
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cochinitapibil · 1 year
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going to see an experimental play to the theater with your friend who likes weird things is something that can be so healing 👍👍👍
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zarovichs · 8 months
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one of the funniest things in disco elysium hands down is when you learn your prime suspect for the murder fled days ago because she heard the engine of kim's car and kim's only response to that is 'well i'm so sorry that my car fucks i'm sorry that my dick is huge. anyway'
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chiscribbs · 7 months
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I had an idea for a one-off Rise episode plot and just wanted to quickly sketch up some visuals for it.
The plot goes as follows: Donnie attempts to invent a cloning machine and, due to some kind of science-y mishap, ends up cloning himself...a lot. But there's a catch to this - the clones aren't exact copies of Donnie, they each possess just ONE of the various facets of his personality (i.e. brainy, broody, sarcastic, passionate, dramatic, mischievous, etc.) and a small portion of his mystic powers. Don tries his darnedest to keep the whole situation under wraps while he searches for a way to fix it, but some of the more rambunctious Donnies quickly escape and begin stirring up trouble in the Lair, so it doesn't stay a secret for very long. To make matters worse - the real Donnie starts to slowly disappear (something having to do with his existence being divided among the Donnies or blahblahblah fake science explanation). So, while he and the scientist Donnies continue to look for a way to reverse the cloning effect, his brothers and Co. set to work gathering up all the other Donnies so they can put them back where they belong and keep Donnie Prime™ from vanishing.
Hilarity, wholesomeness (and some mild angst) ensues.
(Note: I meant to include April in that second-to-last image, but ran out of room. Just know that she, Splinter, and probably Casey Jr. are all there, as well.)
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celestetcetera · 5 months
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Wild Blue Yonder really emphasized the Doctor not knowing the answer, huh? He’s wrong about Donna 3/4 times, he doesn’t speak the alien language, he doesn’t know what the creatures are nor is he very familiar with the space they’ve landed in. Hell, he even has a line admitting he’s wrong often.
But you know what else this episode did? It emphasized Donna’s brilliance. She may think she’s stupid, but she’s sharp as hell. She’s the one who figures out the imposter after giving a Doctor-level tangential speech. She’s the one who’s able to clear her head. She asks the right questions— why are their doubles scaring them?
Her imposter thinks she’s dumb at first, but when no-thing Donna realizes the real one’s actually smart, that’s when she’s able to break through the salt spell. Unfortunately Donna being brilliant means her imposter must be too.
Anyway. Love the role reversal. But for it to come at a time when the Doctor is feeling lost and confused, when they’ve just discovered they don’t even know themselves— it probably stings. Because what are they if not the smart one? When you take away all they’ve learned of this universe, there’s nothing left.
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krowbby · 3 months
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Vlad looked imploringly at Agnes, and reached out to her.
'You wouldn't let them kill me, would you? You wouldn't let them do this to me? We could have... we might... you wouldn't, would you?'
The crowd hesitated. This sounded like an important plea. A hundred pairs of eyes stared at Agnes.
She took his hand. I suppose we could work on him, said Perdita. But Agnes thought about Escrow, and the queues, and the children playing while they waited, and how evil might come animal sharp in the night, or greyly by day on a list...
'Vlad,' she said gently, looking deep into his eyes, 'I'd even hold their coats.'
granny weatherwax was such a buzzkill for not letting her tear him apart <\3
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altschmerzes · 2 years
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gen fic appreciation post. i love you gen fic. i love you serious, plot-heavy gen fic. i love you funny, lighthearted gen fic. i love you angsty whump and h/c gen fic. i love you emotionally complex and intimate gen fic. i love you super long chaptered gen fic. i love you oneshot gen fic. i love you strictly canon adherent gen fic. i love you alternate universe gen fic. i love you crossover gen fic. i love you gen fic about queer identity and relationships. i love you found family gen fic. i love you gen fic.
(edited to add: by ‘gen fic’ this post is NOT referring to rating. it is referring to fic that is not about and does not prominently feature romance, regardless of rating.)
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cowboysmp3 · 4 months
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i love how like nobody really talks about the possessions in ace attorney. spirit mediums and possession and lowkey magic just exists in ace attorney and nobody talks about it. there’s LOTS people make posts about that detail the craziest things abt ace attorney and nobody is like oh yah spirit mediums and possession is like a huge part of the game series btw
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thelaurenshippen · 1 year
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a remake of "you've got mail" called "you've got kudos" about two fic writers who make flirty comments on each other's fics, only to realize that they already know each other because they used to be on opposite sides of a fandom war when they were teenagers under different usernames
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teatitty · 2 months
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It's way funnier to me to imagine that Geralt is the one who desperately wants Dandelion to winter at Kaer Morhen with him but Dandelion keeps saying no on the simple grounds that it's too fucking cold and do you want me to die Geralt? Do you want me to get hypothermia and fucking die?
And Geralt's like "please I am begging on my knees I will cuddle you every night to keep you warm I just need to prove you actually exist"
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sluttylittlewaste · 1 month
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It's wild how many people took Kristen's line of questioning as her saying Tracker isn't taking her religion seriously instead of what I heard her asking which was:
How many of these people would be here if it wasn't religious Coachella?
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