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#yeah most of them were shit but they were more predictable than this!!
midwesternvibes · 2 days
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Alright people, it's time for more Villain Leo lore!!!
Today we are diving into Leo and Splinter's relationship!!!
Read under the cut because this got so LONG, these two have so many issues and there was so much to work with.
Alright, so it's no secret that Leo and Splinter have a....less than ideal relationship. You can see throughout all of TMNT history that Leo looks up to Splinter an insane amount, and Rise Leo is no different.
This boy looked up to Lou Jitsu his whole life, and we can often see him doing the same movements and catchphrases that Lou did. Granted, all the boys do, but Leo seems particularly attached to Lou
And we've all seen the smile comparisons, it's insane how similar his grandiose smile is to Lou Jistu's.
The point is, Leo really looks up to his dad, and we can see this in his actions and attitudes towards not only Lou Jitsu, but also Splinter in canon.
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"Trust me pops!"
I mean, just look at how happy he is to be there with his dad, in his element. This episode is Leo at his peak, outsmarting everyone and predicting his family's moments to the letter.
Also, idk about you, but that smile seems incredibly genuine. That's not even a Lou Jitsu smile, that's a 100% Hamato Leonardo smile at his dad whom he looks up to so much.
And what does Splinter say to his son's ask for trust?
"I knew I should have brought Purple!"
....what.
That is his SON. His 14, maybe 15 year old son, who is asking for his father to trust him.
....and he responds by saying that he wishes he had brought his more intelligent twin brother instead, who he has already shown an implied favoritism towards in the past
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"And I thought Purple was the funny one!"
"Told you guys I was the funniest."
This is a pretty harmless comment tbh, but Leo takes so much pride in his quips, one-liners and puns that this had to sting a little bit.
There's such a huge amount of content to sift through when it comes to these two, and that fact actually saddens me because I had SO MUCH to pick from when making this post, but here's some highlights.
One thing that I noticed while watching a Splinter and Leo compilation is that during the memory episode, Leo is the only one Splinter directly hits
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NONE of the other three were directly hit like this is any point in the episode and yeah, this could totally be played off as a bit or just a case of wrong place, wrong time, but we'll get to my theory later, right now I'm just laying out the facts.
An important detail I'd like to point out here too is Leo's face after the first hit.
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Guys, he looks HURT. Donnie and Raph are looking at him, checking that he's okay, but he is looking right past them at the shadow Splinter, who is dressed and looks just like his childhood idol, who just hit him specifically right in the face.
Not only his idol even. No, the most pure and unfiltered representation of his father, the man who's raised him his whole life.
And he just got hit in the face.
Ouch. For a kid as emotive as Leo (who I honestly think feels his emotions even more intensely than Mikey when he lets them out), this is a devastating blow. Literally.
Then, let's talk about this scene, you all knew it was coming.
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"Can someone tell my son I am NOT TALKING TO HIM!!"
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"You got this pops! I love you!"
Guys this scene hurts my heart. Like, once again, he can't be older than 15 at this point. Yeah he's being a badass stratigiser this whole episode, but you cannot convince me that he wasn't at least a little excited to see his dad, his HERO in action, and wearing a matching outfit as well, and show his dad, his idol and hero, exactly what he's capable of. Leo absolutely worships the ground Splinter walks on and what does his father have to say to his son"s encouragement??
"NO!"
GAHHHH like yes, Leo was kinda being a little shit this whole episode and could have clued his dad in on the plan a little bit, but honestly that could have ruined everything if Splinter had any holdbacks.
Not to mention, this is the only Leo and Splinter episode we get. Donnie gets the derby, Mikey gets the Hidden City bonding, even Raph gets the ending of the memory episode, and in each, they have a genuine moment of bonding with Splinter.
Splinter never ONCE apologized for his actions in this episode. Not once. RAPH is the one who tells Leo in this episode later on that he trusts Leo, something he's been begging Splinter for the entire time.
All of a sudden, this moment doesn't seem so out of place.....
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"I love you soooo much!" "No, no you don't, I'm your least favorite!!"
This line could totally just be a throwaway line, but as it was pointed out to me by the wonderful @nardos-primetime, the alarms that the boys did for Google home have a REALLY upsetting one for Leo
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Go to about 1:57 and listen to that one and just......cry.
NOW that line in "Rat Flu" makes a LOT more sense. Splinter LAUGHED at Leo when he asked if he was his favorite. LAUGHED at him.
But wait, you may ask. What about the ending? Splinter made Leo the leader, obviously he trusts him!
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....yeah, just take a look at their faces here.
Donnie and Mikey are basically horrified beyond belief and in complete shock
Raph is.....blue screening, honestly
And Leo looks completely taken aback and shocked and scared and honestly, I don't blame him. There is absolutely NO precedence for Splinter to do this. He has proved time and time again that he does NOT trust Leo, he never ONCE tells Leo that he trusts him even though he asks for that trust during the entirety of "Unhappy Returns". NONE of them look happy about this new change.
You could see this as Splinter finally giving Leo a chance, but I see this a lot more as one of the more popular Fandom interpretations of Splinter wanting to give Raph a break. Raph had a huge breakdown during the finale and I don't think it's unreasonable for Splinter to have heard of that and decide that his beloved eldest needed a chance to recover.
Who better to pass this burden on to than his least favorite son!
We also see in the movie that this shift in power dynamics really doesn't do much other than create a lot of interpersonal conflict between Leo and Raph, something Splinter does absolutely nothing to help out with, other than telling them to quiet down.
Now that we have all of our evidence (and I put more work into getting evidence for this than for the English project I'm supposed to be doing right now can I just cite this as a source for me being capable of gathering evidence???) we can actually get into the analysis of how this all would affect him.
First of all, I mentioned that I would discuss the repercussions of the memory episode. This analysis is more for Splinter, but I feel like it's still important. We've seen time and time again that Leo is very similar to how Splinter was as a young teen in both looks and attitude. If Splinter truly resents his younger self and how he acted, it would make a lot of sense for him to also subconsciously resent his son who acts a lot like himself at that age. This would cause him to lash out at Leo in his subconscious, the one place where his true thoughts and feelings are on full display.
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I just wanna point out his face again here, Leo looks so hurt. He definitely already knows that he's not anywhere near Splinter's favorites at this point, but it still hurts him to see that get confirmed.
This brings me to my next point of Leo's psyche. He is a very confident, witty, smart teenager, but he's still just that. A teenager. He's anxious, insecure, and very self-reliant. He looks to others for praise often and rarely receives it, usually having to hype himself up. His relationship with Splinter only emphasizes these qualities about him and makes Leo look so much worse in Splinter's eyes because his son is just a modern-day representation of his past self.
Now let's put this into perspective of Leo's decent into villainy.
If Leo is hurting and under the impression that his brothers are maybe starting to dislike him, even hate him, adding Splinter on to this can only make it worse.
Maybe he goes to his dad for tips on how to lead when he feels like he can't talk to Raph anymore and needs his father's advice.
Maybe he sets up a dinner for him and Splinter to just chat and bond instead of sitting at the dinner table with another one of Mikey's meals that he feels too sick with anxiety from his little brother's disappointed looks to eat.
Maybe he goes to his father crying from another nightmare after not feeling welcomed in Donnie's lab anymore after they fought for an hour the day before.
And maybe, just maybe, Splinter waves him off every time.
Forgets.
Laughs at him.
I mean, this is a kid who relys on others to build him up, to praise him and love him because after all....
Who is he without his family?
Maybe it's time to find out.
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Link to an AMAZING ficlet by the FANTASTIC @beetleviolet
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peachypinkygloss · 5 months
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places i know — jjk
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i know places - lykke li, les matins - angèle
ᥫ᭡ summary: in which jungkook's heart beats for you, but he prefers to dismiss his feelings and to blame himself for getting hurt.
ᥫ᭡ genre: friends with benefits, university au, angst, smut.
ᥫ᭡ word count: 3.7k
ᥫ᭡ warnings: alcohol consumption, long and messy hair jk 🫶🏻, he's introverted & she's extroverted, opposites attract type of shit, unreciprocated love, unprotected sex, unprotected oral sex, praising, blowjob, clit stimulation.
a.n.: yeah so... i came up with this last minute. begging for feedback again 🙏🏻 because your girl is paranoid and thinks everything she writes is shit 🥹 (to be confirmed or denied, idk) i won't update for a while, pls take care of yourselves, guys. kisses x
The way between his last course of the day — his class situated in block E, literally the farthest part of the university, still not renovated since the creation of the school — and his car is familiar, repetitive.
It doesn't bother Jungkook, though. Not all that much, at least. It's part of his daily life and he prefers things to be consistent, always predictable. He likes having a routine, something he can rely on — something secured, a feeling of certainty.
And the way to his car is all that. Expect for one detail in his life that is almost too unpredictable, even more than the rain. He simply can't tell when it's about to happen because if he were to predict it, he'd have to let down all his little habits.
He'd have to set the notifications of his phone on, remove 'night time' mode in case he ever receives an unexpected text from an unpredictable person. Have to ask questions more often, questions that are direct and that the answers don't leave him overthinking all night, turning sides back and forth in his bed.
Have to stop putting on his headphones while exiting the university building to hear your steps on the wet cement, rushing to him from behind, already grinning to yourself, knowing he doesn't suspect your presence.
A few repeated taps on his back makes him tense his shoulders, and makes him turn his head back to see who's after him. You may be sudden, but he always knows it's you. You're the only person in his life that would message him at 3 a.m., proposing to meet up and then canceling at the last minute to only interpellate him on his way back home.
He's a bit sour about this, but he won't tell you.
It's your silly escapades that fill most of his days and nights, though. It's that little giggle that leaves your lips before saying 'let's go to the movie theatre' without knowing what films are playing, just because it's funnier like that, because it's unexpected. It creates unforgettable memories, develops stronger feelings.
He reaches for his phone in the pocket of his hoodie, pressing pause, slipping his headphones off and letting them hang around his neck. There's a smile on your lips, one he remembers kissing more than once, both drunk and sober. Most of the time drunk.
"You're ready?" A toothy smile, one of the best, the only one he always wants to see, always misses.
Again, nothing has been prepared, but being unplanned is your habit. Maybe a fear of being chained to a routine, something Jungkook is attached too, though it doesn't matter.
There's something about you, about your wild nature that has him obsessed over you. Opposites attract, but he doesn't feel like your opposite, he feels like he's complementary to you. Like a puzzle piece. Like partners.
He continues his way to his car as you follow him to it, stepping backwards to keep facing him, sometimes turning around, feeling the wind passing through your hair.
Jungkook looks ahead, only glancing at you when he feels your insistent gaze on him. He can't ignore you. Not because you take a lot of space, but because he wants to answer you, wants to hear what you have to say and he knows he's going to regret later for not questioning you.
"I didn't know when you were coming," he opts for, choosing something lighter than what he has on his heart, a feeling he's not sure he wants to acknowledge himself; when are you going to stop playing with me?
"Tuh-tuh-tuh." You stop in front of him, forcing him to halt his walk as well. "Don't ask me when," you say, raising your eyebrows and tilting your head to the side. "Ask me why, ask me where."
Jungkook chuckles, the proud lopsided smile on your face amusing him. How easy it is for you to deviate from the conversation, avoid something you don't want to give an answer to. Something you don't want to touch on. Almost too easy-peasy.
He doesn't catch onto it yet again, leaving the lead to you, letting you use your impeccable charm on him.
"Where?" He sighs.
"That's the best part!" You cheer, "Okay, you know that place I talked to you about?"
"Yeah," he confirms, a bit unsure, but memories and words of yours are fast at coming back into his mind. "Your secret spot?"
He cuts his question there because what you said isn't something he really wants to say out loud — wanna show you that place, feels majestic, you'll like it. Wanna kiss you under that big, big tree, sit on your lap, cuddle you, ride your cock.
It was cheeky when you said it, but he was giggling along with you, sparkling eyes looking into each other, vodka rolling on your tongues.
You were beautiful that night in your blue dress, fitting well with the colour of your hair and skin, making your eyes pop out more. And so are you now, wearing a cute top with that long skirt, Doc Martens at your feet.
That night, you were sexy. A wet dream, an erotic fantasy. Today, you're cute and casual, looking like the girlfriend he wished he had.
"Yup," you nod your head, "My secret spot," you repeat, smiling softly.
He doesn't respond with anything so it's silent for a short moment, the breeze making your hair twirl around your head. He tells himself, right now, that the world is yours. It's as if you were controlling everything; the wind, the weather, his heart.
"Come on, Kook," you insist, "I'm gonna tell you where to go."
The moon is shining brightly from where he is. Away from the city, from all the flashing lights and the roaring of cars. It's peacefully quiet. He likes it.
You're also on your back, looking at the night sky and the clouds. Pointing at one star, saying it's someone's puppy. You hope it's resting in peace, he tells you of course, don't worry. You smile, again. He loves it.
You pick out a flower; it's purple, maybe rather violet. A really soft violet.
You turn on your side, leaning on your elbow, staring at Jungkook — a smirk tugging at your lips. You extend your arm to wipe some of his hair away from his face, tucking the stem of the flower behind his ear. He doesn't stop you and closes his eyes as your fingers brush over his skin.
You replace his bangs, Jungkook's eyelids fluttering as you do so and for the first time, very first time, he's the one who destabilizes you.
"You're beautiful," he whispers, looking at you, noticing how your eyes instantly glance up at him when the compliment slips past his lips. Maybe it's the way you slightly raise your eyebrows, no sight of a smile on your face, rather a look of surprise, a look of 'nobody's words make my stomach twist as much as yours do'.
For you, it's the way that you know he means it, really thought about it before, told himself hundreds of times in his head. Fuck, this girl's beauty is unbelievable.
The grass underneath you is starting to feel cold. The sun is gone and you cruelly miss its light on your skin, heating you up as well as Jungkook's arms around you do, too.
"You, too," you say back. No 'thank you', but he'll go with that. He guesses it felt too intimate and he understands that. Well, he tries to, at least.
He brings a hand up to the back of your neck, the tip of his fingers feel cold against your skin, a shiver running up your spine and making the hair on your arms stand up. He pulls you down and presses his lips down on yours.
It's not hot, it's not messy or sloppy. It's warm, passionate and coordinated. God, he's so cheesy.
He's fucking in love.
You break the kiss, grinning when he looks at you with wide, sparkling eyes. You lift up the right sleeve of his hoodie over his forearm, revealing the couple of tattoos decorating his skin, a bit dispersed and distanced from each other. Jungkook's told you about his desire of filling up his sleeve and colouring some of his tattoos as well.
You point to an empty spot, raising your gaze up to him while saying, "I see a lily there. A tiger lily."
He looks down to his arm, then up to you. "Do you?" He questions.
"Yes," you bob your head, whispering softly. "Bright and orange," you add on, tracing the form of the flower on his arm. He watches your finger brush his skin delicately with a lot of care. "With the petals open."
"It'd be really pretty," he approves, his words making you smile.
You then take his hand in yours and bring his arm up, passing it around your shoulders. He says nothing when you lay your face down on his chest. He only tilts his head downward, smiling back at you.
Your breathing is calm and regular, sometimes letting out a heavier exhale. You trust him, he realizes, and it makes his heart swell, hurts him a little because this isn't enough of a reason.
Enough of a reason to acknowledge his feelings — acknowledge how fucking boring his life is without you and how he wants to spend each moment with you.
But he can't ask that from you, can't demand you to reciprocate his feelings. So he only hopes and wishes, hurting when he's not around you. Goes back to his routine that he so wants to give up on just to be with you, a wild soul who dreams of liberty.
"You didn't tell me why."
You giggle, not because you find it funny, but because you're happy he remembered and cares enough to ask you. Of course he cares, it's you.
"Why I brought you here?" You say while rising up from his chest, connecting your eyes to his.
"Yeah," he confirms with a short nod of his head.
"You're the only one I told about," you answer, "And I don't think there's anybody else I want to share this moment with," you tell him in a soft tone, one that you solely use to say the truth. "I just knew you'd like this place as much as I do, and I want you to come here whenever you feel like it. It's our spot."
'What's mine is yours'.
It can be platonic, it can be friendly, but fuck, there's nothing platonic in the way that you look at him with stars in your eyes, wanting to give him to the world just because it'd feel like the right thing.
You seem so serene while telling him this, and Jungkook can't ignore the 'what if's' that are forming in his head. What if we come here daily until the snow comes and covers the grass? What if we carve our initials on that tree?
What if this secret means more to him than it means to you?
And then it hurts again.
He loves you.
Loves you in a way nobody else ever will because what he has, what he feels, is unique. Everybody's feelings are different, that's why you'll never find someone like Jungkook, that's why if you want him, you need to claim him.
But you probably never will. It's not your kind, not something you're willing to do. 'Don't want to sacrifice what we have', you once said. 'Girlfriend, boyfriend — what does it mean?' you responded when Jungkook jokingly called you "the perfect girlfriend" with too much alcohol in his blood.
Fucking ruined the mood. Why so fucking mean... when he knows you, knows the best parts of you that are down to earth, lovely and sweet, so many qualities in one single person.
But you're entitled to your stupid values.
And he continues to love you as he asks where to go now and you answer all too pouty that you want to go home, his home.
You insist on having vodka, knowing where he hides it, the top cabinet where you can't reach. Have to beg him with puppy eyes to let you have a glass. A tiny glass.
He tells you that you sure as hell gonna have a tiny one. You smile, thanking him. He drinks with you because there's no way he's letting you break his heart absolutely sober.
He loves you maybe more — well aware that he's going to regret it — when your sloppy tongues meet in a heated kiss, impatient hands slipping under each other's clothes.
He grabs a tit, earning a moan, you take a fist full of hair, eliciting a groan. The way to his bedroom feels far, far away, but he knows you're going to reach it, you have to.
Your body is one of the few things Jungkook's familiar with. He knows the way to your pussy, knows where to hit and touch. Knows also the way to your heart, just there in your rib cage, under your sternum.
He fucking knows, but you won't let him and so he keeps his hands away from that part of your body.
The sheets are just an excuse for being his for the night.
Just for the night, leaving before the sun rises.
Whatever.
He moans as he lets you engulf his cock in your mouth, flat on your stomach between his thighs, one leg bent at the knee. He knows to be patient, not push you to do something you don't want to, but it's hard, really hard when your mouth feels like literal heaven.
His head keeps rolling back on his shoulders, hitting the headboard behind him, raising it back up to watch your lips slide smoothly over his length. His fists clench on either side of his body, mouth ajar to let out heavy breaths that you can hear from where you are.
There are times he doesn't really hold himself back, times where the bed isn't just an excuse anymore, but tonight, he feels a bit restricted. He doesn't quite know why, even though the answer's right in front of him. But Jungkook prefers hiding his head in the sand.
"Ah, fuck," he says breathlessly already, frowning as he concentrates on the feeling of your tongue on his cock, sucking him like you fucking mean it. "Baby..."
Another moan, elongated and whiney, a clear indication that you have an impact on him. You affect him — oh, you do so much.
Hesitantly, he grips your hair, not too tight, not pulling, just clenching his fist around it. It's enough to show you that he isn't indifferent to your touch. You know that, but you tend to forget it, tend to go see someone different, searching for something you'll never find in anyone else than Jungkook.
He whimpers as your nose touches his pubic hair, the tip of his cock reaching the back of your throat. He fucking shakes, fucking whines while you swallow around him, sucking the soul out of him.
You're greedy; you take everything, you don't share. Ask for more, come back over and over again. But you take, you don't give. Don't even pay back.
Do you realize it? Would be debatable. Jungkook's heart isn't strong enough to have that conversation, though.
You moan around his cock, a response to his little whines, happy you can procure him this kind of pleasure. You bob your head over his length, making a mess, saliva spilling at the corners of your mouth.
You cup his balls and Jungkook reacts instantly. "Oh, yeah- yeah, like that," he approves, hooded eyes staring at the way his member appears and disappears between your lips as you bounce your head up and down.
If he doesn't stop you, he'll cum very soon, and that's not something that he wants. Not in your mouth, not anywhere. He knows the moment he cums is the moment you also leave.
So there's some tenderness in his voice when he instructs you to come lay beside him, your back to his chest. He thinks this is his favourite position, at least with you. Fucking you is the only way he can get that close to you. He can forget about cuddles, but you'll let him fuck you in spoon because sure, it's a great position. Warm and sensual.
"You feel so good- oh, god," he shakily says under his breath, his lips beside your ear. He's completely nestled inside you, his soft breath caressing your neck — a kiss is given to your shoulder, another to your jaw.
When he starts to move, it's slow and steady, but his moans tells you how it takes a lot out of him to not move faster, not ruin your pussy, not fuck you totally dumb on his bed the way he always does so good when he has way too much alcohol in his system.
He lifts up your thigh, making a bit more space for him, his other hand sneaking between your legs to reach your throbbing clit. His dark bangs fall into his eyes, some strands sticking to his sweaty forehead.
You whine when his middle finger finds your bud of nerves, drawing atrociously slow circles on it, adding just the right pressure to make you want more, beg for more.
"Do you feel me, baby? Feel my cock in your tight little pussy?" He hums in your ear, turning you crazy from the husky tone of his voice. You flutter your eyes as you turn your head, glancing at Jungkook's face, his own eyes not knowing where to look — your lonely lips, your perky nipples, his hard dick stretching out your hole.
"Yeah, feel you so deep in me, Kook," you reply back, and fuck do you really feel him.
It's like your first time, still feeling him days after your encounter. He's big, that's a fact, but he knows how to use it, and you got to experience it. You're lucky you're the only girl he wants to be inside of.
He groans when you clench and unclench around him, his cock completely covered in your wetness, sliding in you so smoothly, nothing restraining him at all — apart from his own intrusive thoughts.
He shifts his hand higher on your thigh, parting your legs wider from each other, now beginning to rock his hips against your ass. His head taps over your sweet spot repeatedly and you let him know by moaning out loud, babbling littles 'right here, Kook. Fuck, right here'.
You reach behind you to pass your fingers through Jungkook's soft black hair, his pink lips smooching the side of your throat, cherishing your skin in warm kisses. You place your other hand on top of his that is operating between your legs, doing quick circle motions over your puffy clit.
He drives his engorged cock in your wet pussy back and forth, totally out of breath, but refusing to stop, at least not until he has you spasming around his girth. You arch your back, frowning your brows as you feel the knot at the pit of your stomach tighten.
"Shit, you close, baby? I feel you sucking me in like crazy," he chuckles, a bit too lost in his own lust, loving how he feels so connected to you right now. You seriously can't be closer to each other than that.
You nod, and he says that he is, too. You whimper, almost feeling him in your guts, cock entering and exiting your quivering hole at a rapid pace that rips your breath out of your lungs.
"Gonna make you feel good," he promises. "Cum around me, sweetheart. Fucking cream my cock," Jungkook encourages and it doesn't take you much more to reach your high, thigh shaking in his hold.
And when it hits you, it hits you hard. You cry out his name, a sound he never wants to forget, limbs shaking from the intensity of your orgasm. Your velvety walls close around him tightly just the way he loves it, just the way it makes him come closer to the edge as well.
His hips jerk up, his skin slapping against your ass. "Ah, fuck, yeah," he rasps out, wetting his dried lips, "Good job, shit... Gonna cum," he praises and warns you at the same time, your orgasm being the cause of his own.
Jungkook steadies his hips and he fills you up, emptying himself inside your cunt. He shoots his hot cum in you in long, thick ropes, cock twitching. You moan with him, liking the familiar sensation of his release painting your walls white.
"Christ," he chokes out, laying his damp forehead on your shoulders, his chest heaving up and down rapidly.
When he pulls out, you immediately turn around to face him. You don't say much, just the usual to not make it awkward. He appreciates it, won't admit he wants to chat till 3 a.m., though.
The next morning is somewhat gentle, but it has a bitter taste. Your side of the bed is empty, the only remaining trace of your body being your perfume. And the soiled sheets underneath him.
He would have liked that all of this was only a dream, but no, it was yesterday. His eyes are puffy from the night of sleep he had, or maybe from tears.
He wonders where you are, when exactly you left. He misses the touch of your hands on his back, your fingers passing through his hair.
Those are the kind of mornings he hates. The awful and aching truth eventually coming back to him because he forgot the night before when he was with you.
And then the cycle repeats.
He goes back to class, puts his headphones back on, and turns on night mode. Clears his mind off of you — well, he tries to. He goes back to the places he knows, avoiding you religiously until he can't say no anymore.
.
.
.
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octuscle · 1 month
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From tutor to rookie of the year
Hi, my name is Jake. My company has hired me to tutor a few students with poor grades. That's not necessarily the reason why I started working at the auditing company. But first of all, I'm new here and I'm not going to refuse right at the beginning of my career. And secondly, becoming a teacher had actually been an option for me. Maybe it's fate now or something.
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The first lesson gets off to a very promising start. I almost have to tear myself apart to leave your office and get to school on time. But when I arrive, there is a yawning emptiness in the classroom. Only after fifteen minutes I hear noise in the corridor and a couple of football jocks barge in the door. A few still in football gear. And all obviously unshowered after training. Phew, it stinks. And as I look into the handsome, square-cut faces of the boys spraying with testosterone, I'm suddenly back at school. The small, clever but shy boy who, at best, the stars of the football team overlook and, at worst, stuff into the toilet. I clear my throat and say that I'm not here for fun either and that I'm asking for some attention. The boys barely react. Damn it, it's not my problem. I explain a few linear algebra problems on the blackboard and ignore the paper airplanes. I have my school-leaving certificate. I have my master's degree. And my bonus doesn't depend on the grades of these idiots. At least I hope so.
After the debacle of the first tutoring session, my appetite for the second is very dampened. But it was already hard enough to get this internship. The firm is one of the most prestigious accountancy firms in the city. And if my pro bono job as an intern is tutoring the idiots on the football team twice a week, I'll survive. Apart from the 60 hours a week in which I have to pore over balance sheets, that doesn't matter any more.
These days, the musclemen are even on time. And somehow nicer than last time. They even ask me reasonably sensible questions like whether you can predict the trajectories of footballs. I take this as an opportunity to tell them something about vector calculus. They collapse with laughter. "Bro, I was joking. And football isn't math. Football is strength and speed." I'm about to take a breath and say something about Newton and the relationship between force and speed. But instead of listening to me, the jocks start bragging to each other about their heroic stories on the field. And I can't help but listen to them spellbound. When the lesson is over, I look after them with fascination. I wish I could have been more like them at school.
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Shit, because I'm the only nerd on the senior team who isn't a complete failure at sports, Coach made me give math tutoring to the football team. He thinks the Meatheads might have a little bit of respect for me. Shit! Them for me? I for them might be more correct! The thought of explaining math to my secret crush forms a wet spot in my Calvin Klein shorts.
I expected the boys to keep me waiting. If they were also punctual and disciplined off the pitch, they wouldn't need any help. And I don't want to tutor them any more than they want to be tutored. We reach a compromise. You listen to my math tutoring for half an hour. And then we'll go out onto the pitch for half an hour and play a bit of football. God knows I'm not unsportsmanlike. But soccer has somehow never been my sport. I'm more of a swimming pool or gym kind of guy. Team sports? Not really.
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Shit, yeah, I'm no rocket scientist in math. But I have quite good grades in English and history. I'm not going to fail this year. Why the fuck do I have to go to tutoring with the other bros from the football team? I have no idea. But seriously, the tutor is a total loser. A beanpole in a stuffy shirt. The idiot even wears a tie. Seriously, who wears a tie these days? If I had to wear a tie, I'd change jobs. Or if I had to shower after training. Shit, these are just rules that can come from old fat men. Bros like me and my bros smell like test… Testo… Well that hormone stuff. Sweat, musk and Axe. If I didn't have to go straight to detention again, I'd let the loser smell my armpits… But I'm a sophomore on the team right now. Let the juniors and seniors do that.
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"Jack, bro!" This is Chuck. The QB on the team. I can tell by his voice. And by his smell. And I'd also know it by the taste of his cheesy boner…. But he stays locked in his jockstrap cage right now. What a damn shame! "Bro, where were you in tutoring? The dean was there. You're in fucking trouble!" Shit, tutoring! I was at the gym. The other guys are all so pumped. I don't want to lag behind any longer. "Shit, dude, we said you were in the bathroom. The loser tutor didn't dare contradict us. But I think you have to let him suck you off so he doesn't tell on you." Hehehehehe, I like that idea. There are still 40 minutes until football practice… And I haven't cum yet today. "Is the loser still in the classroom?" I ask. Chuck nods. I fist bump him and say that I'll sort it out quickly.
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If Chuck and Matt go to college next year, I have a good chance to be the QB. But until then I still have to build up a lot of mass. Those two are just in a whole different league. And I'm damn jealous of the hair on Matt's chest. You should see the bush under his arms. Dude, the man is going to be a fucking gorilla! Shit, I'm not half the man those two are. You can tell immediately by the size of the bulge in our compression shorts. Nevertheless, neither of them mind if I fuck them. But they like fucking me even more. Without eye contact. Otherwise it would be totally homo!
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We skipped tutoring again today. Coch covers for us while we're in the gym or doing our laps on the cinder track outside. Nevertheless, it's still up in the air whether Chuck and Matt will be at college next year. And whether I'll be a junior by then. But screw it, NFL pros don't need to know math.
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dollfacefantasy · 21 days
Text
Kiss It Better
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pairing: leon kennedy x fem!bunny-hybrid!reader
summary: on a day planned to be just for just you and leon, he gets called into work. it dredges up some old memories, and upon returning home, he wants to make it better by taking extra care of his baby bunny.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, cockwarming, daddy kink, size kink, breeding kink, hurt/comfort, reader copes with her past at the shelter
word count: 6.1k
a/n: yay leon and his baby bunny finally return. i hope this lives up to the first part lol which can be found here. i have another part planned as well if people are interested. as always reblogs and comments mean the world <3
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“I could never say no to my sweet baby bunny.”
A statement Leon had said off-hand in the heat of the moment. Something he’d told you as a comfort, a way of warming you up for your first intimate moments together. He hadn’t put much thought into it before it rolled out of his mouth. 
But damn, if only he’d known how true it would prove to be.
The words were ringing through his head right now as you dragged him through the mall on another Saturday he dedicated entirely to spending time with you. He’d already bought you a fair amount of stuff from cute frilly socks to pretty pink panties to some tiny t-shirts he knew he’d regret as soon as you used one to get your way. And now you were heading towards a shop tucked away in the farthest corner of the shopping center. His only hope was that the location meant it was the end of the line, the last stop on your trip.
From what he could see, it sold stuffed animals amongst other items that could clutter up his house. Luckily, the small plush toys seemed to be the only things drawing your attention. Your eyes scanned the rows before fixating on a specific one that sat on the bottom shelf. You crouched down to get and pulled it to your chest, standing up again so Leon could see your selection. His eyes soften as he notices your little cottontail twitching with excitement.
He can’t help the smile that spreads on his face at the sight. His sweet girl standing there with a small plush cow in her arms. The tufts of black and white fur jutted out the top of its head near a set of foamy horns. You looked up at him with puppy eyes, which he’d come to view as unfair since he’d chosen a bunny for a reason. But they worked on him all the same.
“Baby-” he starts, but you interject, predicting his argument.
“I don’t have a cow yet,” you plead, “It’s just one more.”
“Yeah, this one is just one more. And so is the next one, and the one after that, and the one after fifty more of these things,” he teases.
“C’mon, please,” you beg, stepping close to him to lean against his chest.
“Is this your way of telling me you want your own bed again? You’re just gonna fill the one we share with more and more of these until there’s no room and I’m pushed to the floor,” he jokes.
“No,” you deny, “Plus I put them away at night anyways.”
“Most of them,” he corrects.
“Cause I need my bear to sleep,” you say with a little pout.
He swears he almost swoons. You’re too fucking cute. He knows he’s spoiled you rotten. You’re treated better than the average hybrid to put it lightly, but he was past the point of paying that any mind. That shelter he’d picked you up from never let you have stuff like this. In his mind, he was righting their wrongs, burying those sad memories with as much cute shit as he could afford. And if other people didn’t approve, if they thought he should keep you silent and on a leash, he couldn’t care less.
Looking down at you now, playfully pleading with him for that stuffed animal, he knew he could never treat you like that. He rolls his eyes and messes with your hair, gently scratching the base of your floppy ears.
“Fine,” he says, “One more.”
You all but cheer with your excitement, bouncing up to give him a fat kiss on the cheek. He takes the stuffie from you and walks to the register to pay for it. You walk, lacing your hand with his and swinging your arms back and forth.
He looks over at you and instantly remembers why he always ends up giving in. Why he can never say no. Now that you had opened up, he couldn’t get enough of you. He’d loved you before that day a few months ago, the day when he’d caught you during your attempt at self-soothing with his pillow between your legs. But since that day, a whole new layer of you had been revealed to him. The sweet and shy bunny he’d met at the shelter touched his heart first, but the affectionate and needy girl you’d allowed him to see owned it now.
He pays for your little cow, adding another bag to the collection hanging from his arm, and leads you out of the store. You tuck yourself under his arm, clinging to his abdomen.
“Thank you, daddy,” you say quietly and press a kiss to his chest.
His heart throbs at the sound of the sweet name you’d attributed to him months ago. He has to remind himself that you’re in public before any other part of his body reacts.
“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” he says and strokes one of your ears with his free hand.
Once the pair of you reach his car, he loads your stuff in before giving you a pat on the ass as you climb in the front seat. You’re all smiles, and he couldn’t feel better. He gets in the driver’s seat and switches the car on. Your hand goes for the controls to the music right away. He always let you pick when you were with him. Each song acted as a little glimpse into you and what you liked.
As you’re selecting one you like, he feels a buzz in his pocket. He fishes his phone out as you share some of the stuff you like about the song you put on. You then start asking him where you’re going next, but the plans slowly begin to unravel as he reads the message displayed over the picture of you he had as his screensaver.
“Shit…” he mutters to himself before looking back up at you. Your ears droop in tandem with his face dropping. “Baby, I gotta drop you back at the house. I gotta take care of some stuff at work for a bit.”
He sees the disappointment in your eyes, and it kills him.
“But… I thought you took the day off,” you say. Your mood rapidly depletes. It wasn’t his fault, but it wasn’t fair. This was supposed to be a day where he was all yours. Twenty four hours where the D.S.O. laid no claim on him.
“I did, but I’ve told you how it is sometimes. I can’t get out of it some days,” he says.
“But you already stayed late all week. What else do they even need you for?” you ask. It may be irrational, but you can’t help how your mind floods with a sense of abandonment in the moment. You knew Leon would never do that, but the years you spent in that shelter had done a good job of convincing you otherwise.
“Just some formality stuff. I’ll be as quick as I can. You know I wouldn’t choose working over being with you,” he says.
Now he’s the one pleading. Your ears are flat on your head, and your eyes are fixed on your seat below you. He knows you feel wounded now even though you’re holding it in.
“If you’re mad it’s ok,” he whispers and reaches out to stroke your jawline, “You can be upset, honey. I won’t get mad at you. I know you were excited about today.”
As much as you had opened up, he could tell you still shied away from showing too much negative emotion. He knew you’d gone through some punishments at the shelter you were still too scared to talk about.
“It’s not your fault,” you say and shrug, dejection all over your features.
He sighs and starts the car, pulling out of the parking space, and heading towards the house. “I know it’s not, but you can still let out some frustration. I wouldn't think you’re ungrateful if that’s what you’re worried about. You wouldn’t get in trouble,” he says, keeping his tone gentle.
You bring your feet up onto the seat and retreat into yourself a bit. With a simple shake of your head, he knows the topic has closed.
He lets out a quiet sigh as he drives down the road.  It drips with the frustration that he’s letting you down. He can’t reach inside your head and pull out the negative effects of the shelter. He can’t tell the D.S.O. to fuck off and let him spend as many hours as he wants with his precious girl. All he can do is pull into the driveway and watch you get out of the car, your posture slightly slumped with the encroaching feelings of loneliness. You pull your shopping bags from the car. At least you give him a little parting kiss so he doesn’t feel completely emaciated.
He watches your sad trudge into the house before taking the car back out of the driveway and down the same road in the opposite direction.
Inside the house, the silence dominates you. You pad down the hallway to the bedroom that had once belonged solely to Leon. Dropping the bags of clothes near the door, you then hop on the bed and toss your new little cow up near your other pillows. Your eyes linger on the ceiling. You’d become familiar with the insignificant bumps and ridges above that provided a distraction on sleepless nights. Nights where you just needed to tune everything out and count them to avoid being haunted by the past.
Before Leon had taken you in, you always imagined you’d enjoy the quiet of a real home. The shelter always echoed with loud cries of sorrow, screams of anger, and whimpers of hopelessness. You’d lie on the thin mattress tucked in the corner of your area and try to dream of the days your bed would be lush with pillows and blankets, decorated how you liked and  surrounded by the peace of you and whoever had chosen to love you.
And now those days have come. They’re real. You didn’t have to deal with the constant atmosphere of despair or the looming threat of punishment for acting like a human being. So why was it so easy for you to tumble into sadness like this? Why did the quiet no longer mean sanctuary but rather the absence of the person you loved most in this world? You could never work it out. It was too hard. Any time you tried you ended up spiraling into even more self loathing. Because there’s nothing to be sad about anymore. There’s no reason to feel like this. That stuff shouldn’t bother you; it’s nothing more than a collection of ugly memories at this point. Why couldn’t you be grateful for the life Leon had given you? The man gave you just about anything under the sun you could want, so why did one minor inconvenience have to throw you off this badly?
The bags by the door didn’t make you smile anymore. They only brought guilt. You didn’t deserve them. All the gifts and love he lavished upon you would never make you into what you were supposed to be.
Your thoughts consume you for longer than you notice. The sky darkens outside, tinting the room with a violet haze. You lie on the bed under your self-made cloud of gloom for hours, not noticing how much time has passed until you hear the garage door closing and footsteps getting closer. You glance at the bedroom door as it opens silently.
Of course, it’s Leon. His eyes fill with concern at the sight of you. He’d seen you down before but never so deflated. His face now resembles how he looked when he caught you humping his pillow all those months ago, but it’s also distinctly different. He still has curiosity in his gaze, not able to pin down what exactly is the reason for the present circumstances. Though the reaction this time is more worried than surprised. Your present state doesn’t shock him; instead he feels a protective instinct flare within him.
He approaches the bed and sits next to your limp form. His palm rubs up and down your arm slowly. “Hey baby,” he says softly, “You doing ok?”
You look up at him and nod. Sitting up, you scoot to him and align your side with his. Your legs extend out in the opposite direction of him as your head rests on the curve of his shoulder. “I just missed you,” you say softly, your arms encircling the circumference of his bicep.
He presses a kiss to the crown of your head and starts rubbing your back. “You do anything fun while I was gone?” he asks.
“Nothing special,” you respond, “Think shopping made me sleepy.”
You speak with a soft tone of voice, attempting to further the idea that this was merely a bout of tiredness. His eyebrows rise with suspicion. As cute as you look with your cheek squished against his shoulder, he pulls your body around and seats you on his lap. His fingers sweep down your jaw and guide you to look up at him.
“You sure you’re just tired? Nothing else? We weren’t out for that long. I just wanna make sure you’re alright,” he says, trying to show you with how he speaks that it’s not an accusation.
But you remain firm in your convictions and nod. “Mhm, I’m already feeling better. I just needed a little rest,” you assure him and tuck your face against his neck.
It’s not a lie. You were feeling better now that he had returned, each passing moment had little improvement for your mood. But he knew something still wasn’t right. He strokes down the silky expanse of your ears while his other hand massages the base of your tail.
“Well, I missed you too, y’know? Couldn’t stop thinking about my sweet baby bunny the whole time I was at work,” he says.
You were already melting against his chest from the physical contact, but now a smile graces your features. “Really?” you ask, looking up at him again.
“Really,” he confirms, “I felt pretty bad leaving you all alone when it was supposed to be our day.”
“Oh, you don’t have to fe-” you start before he interrupts.
“No, I told you the day was gonna be for us. So how about this?” he asks, rubbing his thumb back and forth over your chin, “How about instead we make it a night for us? I’ll give you a nice bath, put you in some of the new stuff I got you.”
He kisses your head again, then your temple, then your cheek.
“Maybe daddy’ll even give you a special treat before you fall asleep,” he murmurs before kissing your lips.
Taking in a deep breath, you nod. You’re helpless when he treats you like this, disagreeing doesn’t even seem like an option.
“Will you get in the bath with me though?” you ask.
He grins and rises off the bed with you in his arms. “Of course. Anything for my baby bunny.”
The two of you head to the attached bathroom. He sits you on the counter while drawing the bath. Steam drifts up into the hair from the hot water pooling in the tub. He lights some candles, dims the lights, and lets you pick out the scent of bubbles you want.
You sit on the laminate countertop, lazily swinging your dangling legs as you watch him. He checks the temperature of the water multiple times and stares at the clear liquid coming from the bottle of bubble bath. Once that’s taken care of, it’s your turn. He slips your shirt over your head and your bottoms down your legs like you’re the most delicate thing on the face of the earth. Kisses land on your jaw as he pulls your panties off too and drops them in the hamper with the other articles of clothing. So meticulous about everything, at least when it came to you.
He scoops you up again and brings you to the bath, setting you down in the water before twisting the faucet off and discarding his own clothing. Then he climbs in behind you, slotting his body between yours and the cool marble.
“C’mere, baby. Nice and close to daddy,” he murmurs as he pulls you onto his thighs.
You sink into his chest. The feeling of his skin against yours is almost enough to make it all better, enough to make you forget about earlier. You nuzzle into his muscular front, making him smile. He strokes your face and takes care to avoid getting your ears wet.
Both baths and showers used to make you anxious, and he knew that. One of the details you had shared with him about your life at the shelter was having to share the space with all the other hybrids, including the bathrooms. You’d told him how much you hated it, and he could only imagine. He tried extra hard now to make both as comfortable for you as possible, pampering you like an absolute princess.
Thinking about all this, him going above and beyond for you like he always did, makes you turn more into his body. Your arms loop around him, and you place your head beside his, obscuring your downtrodden expression from his vision. Your chin rests on his shoulder as he returns the embrace and holds you closer.
“My perfect girl,” he whispers.
The words are complimentary, but right now, the second in particular stings like a blade. You nestle your face against the warmth of his throat and tighten your limbs around him, trying to drown out the bad swirling inside of you with the feeling of his flesh on yours.
He knows you’re still acting a little unusual. Maybe your heat was right around the corner and it had you feeling extra needy. Maybe you were just still a bit sad about missing out on a day with him. He wasn’t totally sure, but he just wanted to make it better. And the way you were starting to press against him, breasts flush against his chest and the warmth of your thighs pressing against either side of him had his cock starting to stiffen up.
“Sweet thing… you wanna feel a little closer, hm?” he murmurs, fingertips rubbing tiny circles into the small of your back.
You weakly nod.
“Is this close enough? Or should daddy get even closer? I think being inside would feel even better,” he whispers.
You nod again, this time with more motivation. “Please daddy,” you mumble.
“Of course. All you had to do was ask,” he says. He lazily strokes himself a few times beneath the water, getting himself a little harder before he lifts you slightly and slides in.
A soft moan drifts out of you as he lowers you again. You put your head back down on him and sit with the comfort of being full.
“There’s my baby bunny,” he coos in a low voice.
He also takes in the feeling of your tight walls sucking him in. The feeling of your warm, wet embrace wrapped around him.
The two of you sit quietly for a while more, the bathroom silent except for the occasional trickle of water when one of you shifts. Flickering lights from the candles paint the walls in dim orange as the scent of the bubble bath takes over the air completely.
But to Leon’s dismay, your mood doesn’t seem to be brightening up. You don’t start squirming with the need to ride him like you normally would. You don’t get extra sappy with him and start going for more kisses or longing looks. 
He reaches for the wash cloth resting on the brim of the tub and soaks it in the water. He squirts some soap onto it and gently rubs it up and down your back. He can feel your muscles losing some of their tension, but you’re still withdrawn. He continues tenderly cleaning you off while you sit with him inside you.
After a few moments more, not knowing becomes unbearable. “Honey, what’s wrong?” he asks softly.
“Nothing, I’m-”
“You’re not just sleepy,” he interjects. His voice is still loving despite the confrontational manner of the conversation. 
He gently guides you away from his body so you’re kneeling straight up in the bath. His eyes scan you over, trying to make this easier by figuring out what it is, but he can’t. He brings the wash cloth up to your chest and starts brushing it against your chest, between your breasts, and down your belly.
“I know something’s wrong, and I know you’re scared of talking about things like this. But I would honestly prefer you telling me what it is, even if it comes out harsh, to sitting here and trying to figure out what’s bothering you,” he says as he rubs your skin with the soft cloth.
“I don’t know,” you say timidly.
“I’m only asking because I care. I can’t help you if I don’t know what the problem is. Seeing you hurting hurts me too, baby,” he responds.
“I’m not lying. I don’t know,” you say again, some defensiveness seeping into your words, “I don’t know why I feel bad. I don’t know how to tell you what’s wrong. I just- I felt sad earlier, and I know I shouldn’t feel sad which makes me more sad.”
He sees the panic rising in your eyes and hears your words becoming more rushed. In an effort to keep the situation controlled, he pulls you back to his chest, hushing your worries by engulfing you with his arms. You reciprocate the motion, eager to retreat from your emotions. He takes a pause to grapple with what you had just said.
“What do you mean you shouldn’t feel sad?” he asks.
“Because… because there’s no reason to be sad,” you answer.
“If you’re sad, then there’s a reason to be sad,” he says and looks down at you with growing concern.
You shake your head. “No, there isn’t,” you whimper. You start to feel tears collecting in your eyes while your throat feels like it’s constricting. “You make everything so perfect for me, and I can’t do the same for you.”
He’s beyond confused at this point. He feels a couple tears fall against his neck, and all he can do is hold you tighter.
“Woah, woah, baby, c’mon,” he says, trying to prevent more tears, “What are you talking about? Perfect? I don’t expect you to be perfect.”
“Yeah, exactly because you are perfect. You never push me. You never ask for too much. You never do anything bad, and I still get like this,” you cry.
“... Is that a bad thing?” he asks, still lost.
“No, but I just wanna be perfect for you too. You work so hard all the time at your job, and then you come home and you have to deal with me,” you weep and cling onto him more, “I don’t deserve you.”
“Don’t say that,” he says in a hushed voice, “You’re exactly what I want. I couldn’t ask for anything more than you.”
“Yes, you could. You deserve someone who can give you what you give. You deserve someone who’s not fucked up by stupid stuff from the past,” you cry, “I’ll never be a perfect pet, and I don’t wanna disappoint you.”
His chest aches and tightens up when he hears that. He starts to pull out, figuring this wasn’t the time to be balls deep inside you, but you stay locked around him so he stays put.
“Sweetheart, you’re not… I don’t see you as…” he starts, being careful with his words.
You continue your quiet crying against him.
“You’re more than a pet to me,” he decides, soft but firm, “You don’t disappoint me ever. You can’t disappoint me because I don’t have expectations of what you should be. You’re not some dumb animal that I want to mold into a fantasy. I know you were treated like that before, but that’s not what you are to me. You’re my baby bunny. My little love.”
More tears spill out onto him. The bathwater ripples with the shaking of your body.
“You’re not fucked up,” he whispers, “That stuff you went through at the shelter, that’s a big deal. I don’t expect you to just be able to move on from that like it’s normal. You need some extra care, and I’ve known that since the first day you came home with me. It’s not a bad thing. It’s something I love about you. I’m not dealing with you when we do things like this. You’re not a burden to me.”
“Promise?” is all you can choke out right now.
“I promise, baby. Cross my heart and hope to die,” he murmurs and kisses your temple. He sighs and squeezes his arms around you before saying a little more amidst the quiet of the bathroom. “I’m not gonna pretend I know exactly how you feel. But I know how it is to get shoved into a life you didn’t ask for. To get expectations put on you that you can never meet. I don’t want you to feel like that with me. I love you, and I’m gonna love you whether you’re a perfect ‘pet’ or not. That’s not what’s important to me.”
You know he’s being genuine. You hold yourself closer and press a few faint kisses to his throat. “I’m sorry,” you cry.
“Nothing to be sorry for,” he whispers, “Just try and calm down for me, sweet girl. Take some deep breaths.”
You do as he says and work towards settling down. Your breathing slows, and the tears slowly stop. He grabs another washcloth and wets it. He guides your head up and gives you a small kiss before dabbing at your cheeks and cleaning your face of any remaining sadness. Your eyes flutter shut and relax under the loving care of his movements. He tends to your hair next, caring for it how you need.
Once your bath is done, he pulls out of you. You give him a little pout, bringing a smirk to his face.
“Patience, little one,” he teases before standing up with you in his arms.
He taps the stopper with his foot, draining the bathtub as he steps out. He sets you down so he can wrap a towel around his waist and then bundles you up in a big fluffy one. He dries you off and brings you in front of the mirror. He applies some product to your ears, something he’d gotten to keep them from drying out. You can’t help the smile on your face as his fingers gently rub down your long, fluffy ears. You can feel his love through his motions. He follows it with your hair routine, going through each step with precision and making sure to do it just how you like.
Before he takes you to the bedroom, his arms curl around your waist and he slots his head next to yours, gazing into your eyes through the reflective glass of the mirror.
“My baby bunny,” is all he says before pulling you out to the bed and laying you down on it.
He gets some of your lotion, a scent he’d become so familiar with. He rubs it all up and down your legs, taking time to lightly massage as he works. His hands glide all over your body, over your hips, up your sides, across your chest, and down your arms to your hands. Every inch of you was going to feel soft as silk if he could help it. The soft sighs of pleasure that come from you are enough to keep him thoroughly invested in the process.
When he’s finished, he plants a kiss on your lips and gets up. He heads to the door where you had dropped the shopping bags from earlier. He’s rifling through them, pulling out some new items you could wear to bed. He fishes out a cute t-shirt and some smooth panties when he hears your voice call to him.
“Wait, daddy?” you say.
“Yeah, baby?” he responds immediately, looking over his shoulder at you.
“Come back,” you request.
He looks at you curiously but stands up and walks back to the edge of the bed where you were sitting. Looking down at you lovingly, he holds your jaw and squeezes your cheeks. “What is it?”
“I don’t wanna get dressed yet… Maybe I could still have my treat… if you want to,” you initiate timidly while grabbing the hem of his towel.
He smiles and breathes out a laugh. “Yeah? You’re feeling better and need daddy again?” he asks teasingly, letting you tug the towel loose. It crumples to the floor behind his legs and unveils his cock to you.
“Always need my daddy,” you say, looking up at him.
“Don’t I know it,” he teases.
He pushes you back on the bed and crawls on top of you. Leaning down, he kisses and nips at your neck. His hands squeeze your hips. You nuzzle the side of his head affectionately. Out of the corner of your eye you see him swat away the plush cow that sat nearby on a pillow from when you’d thrown it earlier.
“Hey,” you say, feigning protest, “That’s mean. He didn’t do anything.”
“I’m sure he’ll forgive me,” he says with a grin.
Your body is already exposed from the bath, and he takes advantage. He kisses down along your collarbone towards the valley of your breasts. His palms cup them at the sides as his lips coast over them. He always took his time with you when he could. He’d get to rush when you were in heat and soaked just from being in the room with him.
Your fingers lace through the strands of his hair as you draw in a sharp breath. He laves at your nipples and the sensitive flesh of your breasts. His tongue caresses along the curves slowly, building your anticipation and causing your tummy to start fluttering.
His hand slides down your body, dipping between your legs to seek out your center. His fingers brush against the velvet folds and feel how they’re beginning to grow slick with your arousal. He swirls around your clit before pressing down on the sensitive nub and rubbing. Your lips part as you mewl.
“Is daddy already making you feel good, baby?” he coos.
You nod as your face starts to morph into that pouty look you get when you’re worked up. He loves every second of it and continues flicking his middle finger against the bud.
“You gonna let me show you how perfect you are, hm?” he asks.
You simply whine in response and tilt your head back against the pillows.
“That’s my girl. So fuckin’ pretty when you get like this,” he says.
He swipes his fingers up and down some more until he feels you're wet enough and ready to take him. He was certain you could take it without as much prep. Over the last couple of months, you’d you’d shown him the phrase “fucking like rabbits” was true after all, but he liked making you feel like you needed it. He like dragging his tip against your entrance, teasingly prodding the head of his cock at your hole. He savored the way you whine and squirm for it. Just like you were doing right now.
He pushes it in you, a deep groan coming from him as he sinks in all the way to the hilt. The way your eyes flutter and droop drives him crazy. His arms cage you down on the mattress as his knees sink into the plush blankets for leverage so that he can start thrusting.
“Perfect fit, that’s for sure,” he grunts, “No one else can take my cock like you can.”
You nod, whimpering and holding onto him. “Made for my daddy,” you say before gasping.
“Yeah you were. My perfect angel bunny. Sent down just for me,” he says and starts rocking his hips.
You writhe within the confines of his arms. Your breasts push up against his chest as your back arches. He fucks into you deep as he can, just how he knows you like it. Gripping your wrists, he pins them on the mattress, keeping you secure and in place so that he can piston his hips against you without interruption.
His own head tilts back, eyes shutting and lips separating the smallest bit. You gaze up at him like he’s the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen. Every bit of him makes you clamp around his length.
“Such a good girl,” he mutters, “This is just what you needed. Just needed daddy to breed you and get you nice and calm again.”
That word makes your fuse burn faster, and you nod vigorously. “Can’t help it daddy,” you whimper, “I’m just a bunny. Don’t know any better.”
“Oh, I know, baby. Sweet little bunny like you needs to be bred. You need daddy’s cock to function, don’t you? Nothing feels right if you haven’t been bred,” he says, picking up more speed.
“Mhm,” you squeak.
Your legs start trembling hard as he hammers into your sweet spot over and over. To stabilize you, he lets go of your wrists and places his palms on the back of your thighs. He’s pressing you so hard into the mattress it feels like you might drop through straight to the floor. You cry out for him again and again, spurring him on.
“Good girl. I gotta breed my perfect little bunny. Fuck you nice and full like you deserve,” he grunts. The bed creaks with the force of his movements.
He pants as he drills into you. His head eventually falls forward to your shoulder again, but his hips don’t stop rolling.
“Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum so hard, you’re gonna end up with a whole litter,” he moans.
Your eyes roll back and your legs lock around his waist. “Need it, daddy. Please,” you whine and clutch at his shoulders.
“I need it too baby. Need to knock up my sweet baby bunny. Gotta get you nice and full so everyone knows you’re all mine,” he says.
You’re both almost at the peak, gripping each other as tight as possible, sucking in air like there’s a limited supply. Both of you are moments from snapping when Leon’s eyes screw shut, his mind clouded by images of you pregnant with his babies. It’s too much, and he’s snapping into you like he’ll die otherwise.
“You’re gonna be the prettiest mama to our perfect babies,” he moans against you before his body starts sputtering.
The feeling of his cum flooding into you is enough to throw you over the edge with him. You seize up, back arching off the bed like you're possessed. You babble out some words of love, but all of it gets lost. You’re so jumbled up from the high, you both can only cling to each other as you ride it out.
You’re still breathing heavy as you come down, and so is he. Puffs of his breath come out right next to your ear. He lazily kisses below the lobe as you come back to reality.
“You see how important to me you are? See how much I love you?” he murmurs as he carefully rolls over and brings you to rest on his chest with him still buried inside you.
You nod and peck his jaw as you settle against him.
“Good. I never want you thinking like that again. If you ever need a reminder of what I think of you, I want you to tell me, and I’ll give you this same reminder.”
“I will,” you agree softly as he strokes your back.
You’re both exhausted from the exertion and the long day. He’s content to just melt into the bed while tangled up with you.
“Gonna keep you plugged up for a while, baby. Gotta make sure it takes, my sweet girl,” he mumbles as his eyes start drooping.
You gaze up at him, pretty sure you have hearts in your eyes. Your doubt and sadness had been abated for now. You nuzzle him and kiss his chest before trying to get some rest yourself. 
“Love you daddy. So so much,” you whisper.
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savannahsdeath · 6 months
Note
hii i love ur work!! id love to read about chess player!ellie x chess player!reader hate fucking the shit out of each other after one of them wins the tournament 🤭🤭
"You're not as boring as I thought...
...you are not as bright, either."
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warnings: 18+!! edging, brat!reader, slight mean!ellie, dom!ellie, sub!reader, yeah js.. smut
writers note: i never told u guys before but pspsp.. i play chess !! so surprising right🤭🤭 and yes i used dominiques quote because . and . also ...,.
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"what the fuck was that, huh?" she asked with a serious, cold tone. and maybe you'd even bother to answer, if she wasn't about nine inches deep in you. you rolled your eyes with a quiet whimper. "what? gonna throw a tantrum? i'm the one who should be mad. shit— i am fuckin' mad."
"see, el— maybe..." you hiccuped, managing to fully open your half-lidded eyes for a second. "maybe i'm just... better."
"better?" her eyes widened in shock, because even though she knew how much of a brat you can be she wasn't expecting that.
at some point, you were right. on the other hand, you didn't have to rub it in her face like that.
⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆
you could tell she had studied the art of offensive chess for quite some time. she would frequently sacrifice her pieces to gain control of the center of the board, relying on her opponent's hesitations to gain a positional advantage. however, her tactics had limitations.
as you continued to play defensively, her attacks became more predictable, and you were able to counter them. while you wondered how she had reached this level, you had to admit that her strategy would work perfectly against a not patient or uncertain opponent. time didn't matter to you, not as much as to your rival, so you easily took advantage of it.
she looked either bored or amused most of the time, keeping the atmosphere more relaxed than it should be. "...so those girls like chess players, y'know? they're just so easy-"
"focus." you cut her off in an indifferent tone. the fact that she wasn't paying much attention to your moves, busy with talking, was good, but her rambling also distracted you. you clicked the little button on the clock, signaling it's ellie's turn. "i get it, people like smart girls." you mumbled, leaning back in your chair. "are you one of them, though?" you continued in a doubting voice, unintentionally insulting her.
her usual smirk didn't leave her face but you could see her bite the inside of her cheek in slight annoyance or even frustration. "i'm gonna show you." she nodded, as if to reassure herself with a silent 'yeah, just you wait!' which you couldn't help but laugh at. well, maybe not laugh, but chuckle under your breath. your comment must really bother her, to the point you ruined her offensive tactic.
"you're not as boring as i thought..." you scanned the board through your firm gaze, searching for any potential threats. you straightened up, propping your elbows on the small table and laying your head on your hands, impatiently tapping your cheeks. as soon as she clicked the little knob you already knew what'll your move be, so you quickly extended your hand. "you're not as bright, either." you picked up your knight, tauntingly pattering it through the squares, mimicking a real horse. finishing the L-shaped distance seemed to take you ages, though it was really less than four seconds. you let go of it, making a muffled knocking sound as it hit the wooden board. "checkmate." you whispered, folding your hands and tilting your head.
you took a moment to take in her reaction, which, much to your disappointment, wasn't an interesting scene. in fact, her smirk only widened as she looked at the clock and saw what led to this - her reckless haste. she hummed and shook your hand, what showed that she agreed with the score.
"how could i not notice that?" she smiled, letting you know it doesn't matter to her. you started to wonder about her strange behaviour, which seemed weird compared to the known, easy to piss off ellie williams. and just then, you understood everything's how it should be. her grip on your hand painfully tightened, as if to prove that your suspicion is correct.
⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆
you felt her strap slid out of you, leaving your cunt hopelessly clenching around nothing. you raised your head, letting out a needy whimper and hoping to see what was she's up to. "els—"
"shut up." she murmured as she parted your thighs, revealing herself between them. she leaned down to have your slit at her eye level, with a quiet growl. "you're such a—" her tongue ran up and down your lips, collecting most of the slick you have accumulated. she looked up at you with a proud smirk. "fuckin' slut."
your fingers uncontrollably tangled with her hair, tugging on it while your free hand gripped the bed sheets. your cunt was still sensitive after being filled with her strap, so her soothing tongue felt comfortingly painful. she lightly sucked on your clit, forcing a desperate moan out of you.
"so you're the smart one? is that right?" she asked, her voice interrupted by either your little gasps or her breaks to plant another kiss on your core. "why don't you say something smart then?" her mocking tone echoed in your head as you tried to form a sentence. before you could, she stuck her tongue in your throbbing hole, making your thighs snap shut. she quickly helped them regain to their previous position, not pulling her hands away for longer than needed as if she wanted to make sure her fingers will leave a reminder, in form of at least reddening your sensitive skin or, most likely, giving you some bruises.
you felt your climax approaching so soon it felt embarrassing, truly embarrassing. you started babbling nonsense as your cunt clenched around her tongue, which continued to fuck in and out of you.
the amazing feeling suddenly left, replaced by her thumb roughly circling your clit. you watched as she sat up and smiled down at you, licking her lips in a temptingly slow way. the brat living inside of you was the first one to speak up, huffing out her name in an obviously annoyed gesture.
"c'mon." she cooed in a mockingly sweet voice, making sure her thumb is doing a good job. good job at torturing, ruining and making you even more desperate, if that's even possible. "what would a smart girl say in your situation?" she clicked her tongue, making you feel all the control you had slid out between your fingers and sink into the bed sheets. no matter how much you didn't want to admit it, someone finally managed to make you feel hopeless.
"but, ellie, look—" you whined, trying to take as much satisfaction from the touch she was giving you, but it only seemed like a pathetic version of what you could have. you could have way more. you needed way more.
"i don't want to hear any buts." she stopped her thumb, hardly pressing it against your clit, staring at you with stern and serious eyes which you weren't used to see from her. "we both know what a smart girl should say, yeah? aren't you one? are you admitting you're just a slut?" she sighed as if she was disappointed in you.
you shook your head, closing your eyes from the mix of all possible emotions; from embarrassment to proudness. "please, need— need you and... oh, please, ellie..." you broke, begging for more in the most miserable way imaginable.
she bitterly laughed, murmuring an amused "god, you're really a slut" under her breath. her thumb left your clit and both of her hands found their place on your thighs, making you hiss at the touch of your earlier irritated skin. you whined, the sound of your rambling slowly drifting away and getting replaced by just as beautiful moans. you heard her voice but you didn't really understand what she said, nor paid any attention to it, as your mind went blank. your hips kept waving up and down, trying to add to the feeling. your miserable attempts earned either a chuckle or scoff from ellie, but she didn't even try to stop you, enjoying this as much as you.
hooking up with bimbo's might be easy, but making a mess out of a girl smarter than her was way more satisfying.
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whispereons · 10 months
Text
Oracle!Reader Part 1
Masterlist - Part 2
A light zap of electricity made your cheek tingle, urging you awake. Sleepily, you opened your eyes and were greeted with a rundown room with no furniture. The strange sight woke you up immediately and you sat up.
What the hell? This isn't your home, fuck, this doesn't even look like somewhere in your city!
As you surveyed the surroundings with more urgency, thoughts of the day before came to mind.
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You were only supposed to drop off the money from the scams to your boss. Your forte wasn't fighting yet when you entered the rundown building, there was tension in the air.
Your boss glowered at the woman across the room. Before you could even ask one of your coworkers what's happening, guns were drawn. In less than 5 seconds the building became a mess of fighting, gun shots, and noise.
Trained instincts of running kicked in and you were already slipping past brawls trying to get to the nearest exit. The money was already dropped off, your boss couldn't hold shit against you.
Just as you got close to the window, a lanky man shoved you. You only stumbled back and raised your fists. You didn't like to fight but after years of living less than legal, you've learned how to fight long enough to escape.
In 10 minutes you were already walking down the sidewalk with bloody knuckles and a bruised foot. The other guy must be worse since you threw him into the window before escaping.
It's just your luck that a police car pulls up beside you. Stopping, you flash a smile to the officer as he rolls down the window.
"Sorry to bother you so late but I noticed that you're a little hurt. Do you need me to bring you to a hospital?"
What he's really asking is what got you hurt, but you keep your cool and answer with cheeriness.
"It's really nothing. I was just at the bar down the street with a friend when some people started getting rowdy. They got kicked out before anyone could really get hurt but I still got a little banged up."
You point to the bar that you passed by that's in full swing. The officer eyes you for a moment before asking a follow-up question.
"And what about your friend? Where are they, are they okay?"
Your tone drops a little as you reply. "Their wonderful partner picked them up so I left. I mean it's not like I have any lover to pick me up. What can a poor single person like me do?"
The officer instantly becomes bored and says a quick goodbye before driving off. You roll your eyes at the predictable action and continue walking home. Lying has become a natural habit for you and you've become damn good at it.
You finally get home to your shitty studio apartment in the seedy part of the city. Locking the door, you trudge to your computer as you ignore the screams from other apartments. You boot it up and start eating the cheap fast food you picked up.
First you check on the scam ads you posted to see which poor sucker fell for it. You forward the card information to another coworker and consider yourself done with work for the day.
Were you a bad person for being a scam artist? Yeah. Did you wish that you could have a normal job that doesn't involve hurting people? Hell yeah. Have you ever been able to? Nope.
You click the little Paimon app to run Genshin to distract yourself from those meaningless thoughts. You've been stuck in those loops long enough to know it's useless to dwell on them.
The mindless commissions are just what you need to relax. You smile at the sight of Bennett's idle before farming for the most annoying materials; Handguards.
You finish combing through most of the Inazuma islands before teleporting to Seirai Island. The statue of the seven heals your party from any damage that occurred.
Leaning back in your chair, you stretched your arms, sighing as the tension is released from your body. Deciding to turn in for the night, you exit out of Genshin.
Well, you tried at least.
No matter how many times you clicked, it just wouldn't exit. Brushing it off as a bug, you just shut down the device.
Instead of shutting down, the screen showed the doors to Celestia. With no prompt, the doors opened and the white flash shined into your eyes.
Cringing at the harsh light you waited for it to stop.
It didn't.
It got brighter and brighter before it completely enveloped you.
--------------------------
Feeling more awake after remembering, you look around the house. Other than the creaky bed you were on, nothing else was in the house. You stand up and nearly trip over a bag at your feet.
Opening it, you find nothing but you decide to take it just in case. That's when you notice that your knuckles are completely healed. No blood, bandages or pain.
You check your body and see that although scars have remained, all your minor cuts and bruises have healed without a trace. Feeling creeped out you try to leave the house. The nearly broken door takes a good amount of strength to push open but you do and stumble out.
The sight of purple thundering skies, floating rocks, and a statue of the seven shocks you. You stumble on the squeaky plants and hard cobblestone as you get closer to the edge.
White trees with purple leaves, blue grass and Naku Weed surround the ground. It's the same area where you tried to log off. There was no way you were in Genshin Impact; Shit like this only happens in fiction.
Hallucination, death, dream, or pulled into a fictional world. Your mind whirls those four possibilities. You stomp on what should have been your bruised foot. It's painful, but not as much as a bruised foot.
With death and dream off the list you walk to the small tree with purple leaves. An Otogi tree, your mind helpfully supplies. You press a hand against the bark and feel the leaves carefully. The sensation is too real and you're too steady to be hallucinating.
You must really be in Tevyat. You were never attached to Earth but being suddenly thrust here is still a bit jarring. You look at the statue of the seven and contemplate your next decision.
From what you remember, anyone who isn't from Teyvat should be allowed to take elemental power from the statue. Biting your lip you approach the statue and place a hand on the gold accessories.
You marvel at how the statue glows at your presence but when you look at your hands, you feel no difference. It seems you wouldn't be a main character in this world either.
Shrugging it off, the excitement of actually being in Teyvat started to well up inside you. You walk down the desecrated dirt and cobblestone path as you admire Seirai Island.
While walking you freeze at the sight of two Fatui soldiers at a camp. You could fight people and escape, but Fatui soldiers? Fuck no. You didn't plan to die this fast.
You sneak along the houses to your left all while trying to remember Seirai's layout. If you wanted to survive in this world, you would need to get to civilization. You needed a boat cause there was no way in hell you were swimming in water that could be struck with lightning at any moment.
You follow the left path that seems to lead to the shore. Fuck, a mirror maiden is walking the same path right towards your direction. With some fast thinking and only a small dose of panic, you scale the rocks on your right.
They were thankfully small enough that your minor skills could be utilized well enough. Breathing heavily, you lay down on the soft blue grass. You close your eyes and open them swiftly at something tingly but smooth on your nose.
It's an electro Crystalfly. Purple and beautiful. You lay there mesmerized before it flies off gently. You stand up in a daze and struggle not to blindly follow it.
You walk along the cliff's edge while being careful not to fall. You can't risk going onto the grass in fear of a spector chasing you. Yet another thing that can end your new life.
Once far away enough from the mirror maiden, you slowly climb down and feel relieved at not breaking a bone. The path splits into two and you contemplate which one would lead to the Waverider.
Logically you know the chance of the waverider working for you was small, but the chance of you finding an intact boat was even smaller. Your train of thought is broken by the sounds of machines whirring from the right path.
You curse yourself and start sprinting down the left path to get away. Forgetting the existence of Ruin Sentinels almost cost you your life, but due to your panic, you almost sprinted straight into a different Ruin Sentinel.
Skidding to a stop, you hastily walk around it while sweating bullets. Thankfully it didn't notice you and you praise your good luck. You walk more alert to the waverider but stop at the teleport waypoint.
Out of simple curiosity, you touch the teleport structure. It glows similar to how it did in the game. But instead of red turning blue, the blue turned gold.
A smile forms on your face as your mind races with the possibilities that this could mean. Excitedly, you run to the waverider and touch it. Its blue turns gold and a boat is summoned onto the water.
It's not the same boat as the travelers, in fact you would even say it's better. Climbing into your boat you marvel at how much space it has. There is a small screen in the middle with a handprint.
There is no steering wheel or any other controls. You put your hand on it and say the first island that comes to mind. "Take me to Kannazuka Island."
The boat begins to move and you sit down on the couch. The whole boat feels luxurious to the point where you feel out of place; as if you're the sole piece of dirt on it.
But you don't have to be trash anymore. This world is kinder to people that couldn't finish school or can't stay in one spot. You wanted to try a normal job, maybe set up a stall or shop. Work as a normal, legal worker, or even become an adventurer. If reckless Pallas could do it, surely you could.
No more lying, no more crime.
The boat stops and you get off as you try to remember which part of the island you stopped at. There's a waverider and a teleport waypoint close together. That's on the right side of the Tatarasuna also known as the place where Kunikuzushi died and became Scaramouche.
After tapping both the waverider and teleport waypoint, you walk closer to the main part of the island. You remember farming this place for the handguards which explains why there is no Nobushi.
After passing the broken down ship part, you spot a tree with lavender melon. Excitedly and with hunger you get close and pick the lowest hanging fruit.
It's juicy and unlike any fruit you've eaten before. Which isn't a lot since fruit is expansive. You stroll down the shore as you finish the fruit.
You recognize the area on the left as a place where a quest had a fight. Walking on it you smile at seeing it in person. It's really amazing how you're actually here. And holy shit is that Ei?
The archway made of rock that leads into Tatarasune has Ei standing right there. You freeze and your breathing slows down as you try not to be noticed.
Ei was a complex character meaning that she will cause a lot of trouble for the peaceful and lawful existence you planned to live here.
As you try to walk away casually you hear her mutter something interesting.
"I could have sworn I felt their presence somewhere here."
Ei locks eyes with you making you freeze. You should greet her with her long ass title but there was no way you remembered that. Instead you give a small bow and speak politely.
"Please forgive my intrusion. I hope I haven't-"
"How dare you."
"I'm sorry wha-"
"Who are you? Which nation are you from? How dare you show such disrespect toward Their Holiness?!"
Her glare is firm and her voice grows louder. Gaping at the sudden hostility, you take a step back when she starts to pull out her Musou-no-something.
Ei's words are barely registered in your brain as you scramble for a way to escape.
"Someone with the same face as the creator is an anomaly. No one has ever been born with their face yet you, a mere human mortal, has it. I shall sacrifice you to them for impersonating the creator's image."
It's like her one track mind as a soldier has taken over Ei again. You yell the first thing that comes to mind that can help you escape while pointing behind her.
"OH MY GOD, IS THAT MAKOTO YOUR TWIN SISTER?!"
Ei freezes and immediately whips her head to look behind her. You don't hesitate to book it back to the boat.
'Just keep running, just keep running.' You sing frantically to yourself as you hear Ei chase after you. You yelp in pain when lightning starts striking your heels with every step.
She's toying with you, you realize. She wants to know how you could possibly know about her sister. She won't kill you yet but you know she won't hesitate to harm you severely.
The boat comes into view and you jump into it. The water that you splashed in, in your hurry makes your feet hurt more.
"Do you think that boat can protect you from me?"
You sit on the floor and try to think up a solution but the pain coursing through your body is hindering you. But you already know that you can't drive the boat or else she'll destroy it.
"Tell me how you know her name. How do you know her connection to me? How much more do you know about us?"
None of your regular tactics can work on her, not without risking death. You look at your lap for some kind of solution and notice your hands glowing. A small plan begins to form and instead you answer her with a distraction.
"Do you truly believe that I'm the only person alive that knows about her?"
Ei goes silent and you take advantage of the time to try to figure out what's happening with your hands. As much as you hope you gained elemental powers, you doubt that it can actually help you when an archon is trying to harm you.
You feel like spiderman as you make various hand gestures with your hands trying to figure out what the deal is with the glowing. It's the simple gesture of putting your hands together and pulling them apart that makes the glowing leave your hands and form a small screen.
"Did Celestia send you down here? Did you have a mission from them to use the Creator's form to dig up information?"
As the screen glows white and shows the Genshin Impact logo, your breath hitches. Your only hope is to let Ei draw her own conclusions from your answers as you hope your new power can help you.
"Celestia, huh? If Celestia themself took on the form of the Creator for their plans, do you think they would succeed?"
Thunder strikes louder after you say that. The logo leaves and shows the traveler on the beach in Mondstadt. You don't think about the weirdness of that before teleporting Lumine to where you are at.
"What are you implying-"
Ei's words are cut off as the sound of teleporting rings through your ears unlike the game audio has ever done before. On the screen the traveler stands next to a gold teleport waypoint with Ei nowhere to be seen. You smile at the implication.
You look out the boat and don't see Lumine there. You look back at the screen only to find it gone. You make the gesture and the screen reappears. It's only when you look away from the teleport waypoint that the screen finally loads.
Lumine is still standing next to the gold teleport waypoint. After teleporting her back to the beach you close the screen. With the Ei threat somewhat subdued, you feel safe enough to collapse on the couch.
Lazily you tell the ship to sail to Narukami Island, Ei would still come after you. Anywhere is better than your present location. An idea forms in your mind and you clarify. "Bring me to Amakane Island."
Your mind processes the information of a Creator, your resemblance, the screen, and new threats. The first step is clear as day. The little shop on Amakane Island that sells masks is your first stop.
Hello anybody that reads this. I have started another fic series. Again. There is a large chance that I'll get burnt out and not finish it. But I hope you enjoyed this. The next chapter should have what I really wanted to talk about which is Oracle!Reader.
Taglist: @vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl [Edit: This chapter has been updated by my dear editor on 8/19/23]
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bu-blegh-ost · 8 months
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The time has finally come, @girlsonlytreehouse !!!
Today I shall share with you the fruits of my work. But first, allow me to take you on a journey I myself have been through while counting all of this shit down.
First things first, I decided to count the rolls in the context of the characters rather than the people playing them, simply because the luck of the actual people could not be measured accurately if I only take Riptide into consideration (and also I thought it would be more fun). The guys have several different campaigns, some that I do not have access to, so I've decided to seperate all their Riptide rolls into characters they play instead, cause then we can clearly see which character is the luckiest. But ofc if you want this to be attributed differently, the data remains unchanged, so that way you all can interpret the results however you wanted and still have all the info you need on hand.
Another issue were the advantage/disadvantage rolls. When a character rolls at advantage, they roll twice and the only roll that counts is the one that was higher, while the other is discarded and the opposite goes for disadvantage. So for example if you roll at Disadvantage and you roll a nat 20 and a 2, that nat 20 technically doesn't matter. Despite that I decided to count each adv/disadv roll anyway, because despite the fact that it does not count, it was still physically ROLLED, which means it contributes to the character's overall pool of luck. I tried to separate them at first so you guys can make your own decision whether to add them or not, but in the end I decided against it cause it was insanely hard to keep up with. There were just too many and too often, which led me to believe that it was fair enough to count everything as long as they actually rolled a dice.
Which brings me to the last complication, which is of course Gillion's Prophetic Screwup. At the beginning of the campaign Gillion was able to exchange anything that he actually rolled into a nat 20, and in return the DM can change any roll he does afterwards into a nat 1. That way there was supposed to be an equal number of wild unrolled nat 20's and nat 1's to balance Gillion out back to 0, but it didn't turn out this way. In more cases than not, Grizzly would either forget or fail to find a good place to screw Gillion over, so the ability bacame much too unbalanced. So they changed it somwhere in the middle of Edison Kingdom Arc. From then on, if Gill rolled anything from 1-10 it would automatically become a nat 1, and if he rolled from 11-20, that'd be a nat 20 instead. Either way these rolls had nothing to do with luck, as he wasn't actually rolling anything, thus I decided not to count these 'artificial' nat 20's/1's. However I did keep track of them nonetheless and I'll still give you the number of those, just separately, and from then on you guys can make your own decision on whether or not you wish to count it.
OOOFFF ALRIGHT.
Without further ado, here are the nat 20's results (up to ep106):
Gillion: 52
Chip: 58
Jay: 55
Goobleck: 8
Surprised? Yeah I was as well. First things first I never expected this to be this close. And never in my right mind could I possibly predict that it would he CHIP of all people to have the highest score here. But I've seen it with my own eyes. And tell you what. Jay had this in the bag for most of the damn series. She would consistently roll good and always when you need a good roll the most. There were times when she would have such a massive lead it was unthinkable she could loose it. But then she would just kinda...stop rolling good for a bit and allow the other two to catch up. It just wasn't as visble if you don't pay much attention, but I thought it to be cute. It's as she was waiting for them <3 But she was still mostly leading. It was only the current arc that made Chip surpass her. After his terrible luck in Feywilde, he bounced back so strongly right after, that he managed to jump in front of the luck queen herself.
And now I bet you're curious about the other side of the coin. Give it up for natural 1's!:
Gillion: 55
Chip: 53
Jay: 52
Goobleck: 1
You see, I kind of expected it to be Gill, but I need you guys to know that this wasn't the case at all times. Jay? Yes. If there is one thing that's consistent is that she had the lowest amount of natural 1s at all times almost, but the person that was suffering from nat 1 curse for a long while was Chip. In the Feywilde Arc he would be so far ahead of everyone, that I was genuinely sure that there is no way anyone catches up to him. But then he popped off in the next arc with nat 20's and Gillion? Oh my gosh, Gillion didn't disappoint. I've never seen a man fail this much let me tell you XD He ended up with the least nat 20's as well, but I thought the difference would be much higher until he didn't roll 4 fucking nat 20s in ep 100 and then this double nat 20 attack roll in the Black Sea whduihdius AND HE CAUGHT UP AS WELL, more or less.
Idunno, maybe this is just how luck works, but it truly seems that the trio shares their successes and burdens almost equally. They support each other and in return fate has their backs as well. Honestly I couldn't have hoped for better results. Also can we give shout out to Goobleck, the true MVP? He's been on the show only for a while but look at this nat1 - nat20 ratio!!! Go goop man goo!!!
So now for the additional stuff that I also counted just for fun:
*Prophethic screwup nats:
Before the rules changed Gillion replaced 8 of his rolls into natural 20s, and in return Grizzly replaced 3 of his rolls into natural 1s.
After the rules changed he only got high enough number for 4 nat 20s, and a low enough number for 7 nat 1s.
So that together makes additional 12 nat 20s and 10 nat 1s from the prophetic screwup alone. I don't think they should be added, but the numbers are there so feel free to do whatever you want with them :)
Downs and death saves:
Throughout the campaign Gillion went down 14 times and rolled 8 death saves.
Chip went down 6 times and rolled 4 death saves.
Jay went down 4 times and rolled 3 death saves.
No shocker here, Gillion dies a lot XD
Knights:
In their journey Gillion knighted 4 people: Julien Booker, Clorton, Garrieth and Duke.
Corruption score:
Thus far each character has the following amount of corruption points (Black Sea):
Gillion: 0
Chip: 2
Jay: 3
Queen: 1
Gryffon: 2 (i think, unsure abt that one, may edit later XD)
Earl: 1
That is all I have for now. I may be clinically insane :)
Good day to everyone and I hope you found this data interesting. Take care <3
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python333 · 2 months
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since i just woke up from one and came here to seek comfort and get it out of my head,i had the idea of "why not ask them if they'd like to write such a thing?" So here i am.
The main thing is reader having a really grotesque, explicit and horrific nightmare (that's how most of mine are) could be getting tortured,put in a meat grinder,you get it,work your magic and write as you wish haha.And after they wake up with a heavy and tight chest, horrified naturally,it being out of their control,could you have the 141 members comfort us? Perhaps one way of getting most of their reactions would be setting up a scenario where they had to camp and sleep in the same place, something of the sorts,so yeah.
Honestly still not over the nightmare yet that shit was horrific haha,but yeah,hope this'll be a nice writing for you,if you wish to do so.Take great care of yourself dear,and take as many breaks as you need<3
how the sausage gets made — python333
— — — —
synopsis you have a very graphic nightmare, the 141 comforts you!!!
relationships platonic! 141 & gn! reader.
characters cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.
word count 3.2k
warnings nightmare about getting put through a meat grinder (not too graphic, but the imagery is still there), usage of [c/n] (code name/call sign), 2nd person pov (you/yours/youself)
note hi!! this is actually right up my alley, i really enjoyed writing this!! :D hopefully this somewhat comforts you/helps you get over the nightmare, and hopefully this was horrific enough for you!! ALSO i have a discord server now!! enjoy :3
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You’re in some sort of freezer, it seems. 
Your vision is a bit blurred at the edges, and your head feels awfully heavy, making it hard to keep upright on your neck. Your shoulders feel tight and tense, as though the muscles in them were physically bundled and tied into tight knots. Though, they aren’t tense in the way they typically are. Somewhere in the back of your mind—as your gaze wanders around the blue-tinted room you lay in—you can recall times after sparring sessions with a few of your teammates when your shoulders felt tight, and it was nothing like this. Those times, you could feel the knots as though they grew roots from your shoulders to your wrists. Unlike now, your shoulders feel lighter than those times. 
Those times. You aren’t sure what “those times” refers to. All you can see and think about is the light blue tiling of the ceiling above you. It’s strange; you’ve only seen tiling like that on dingy bathroom floors in the public gym you used to go to. It’s never been on the ceiling like that. Huh. 
You can’t really feel your hands, which is even stranger. You know where they are—they’re right at your sides, laying on the stingingly cold concrete floor of whatever room you’re in—and can hear the echoing taps they give whenever you lift and hit them lightly against the floor, but yet they feel numb. You move one of them, not nearly as off-put by the numbness as you should be, and lift it up and over your face. It looks normal. No, yeah, that’s my hand alright. Don’t know what I expected. 
You put the hand back on the ground and using both hands you push yourself up from the floor, letting out a small grunt as you do. It takes an uncanny amount of force to push yourself upwards, but you manage to do so anyway, and you finally have a look at the room around you. You look ahead of you. Blue tarp. It’s shiny and almost looks woven, and if you squint your eyes enough, it looks grainy. You look to your left. More blue tarp. It’s of the same quality, the same quantity, and is in all aspects the exact same as the other blue tarp. You make a quick prediction before looking to your right, and, lo and behold, another blue tarp. How shocking. 
It looks the same as the other two. Frowning, you look behind you, and surprisingly you are not met with yet another blue tarp. This time, there’s a large, shiny, stainless steel machine behind you. It’s a good ten feet away, about the same distance away as the tarps, and for some reason it beckons to you. Like Princess Aurora to her spinning wheel, you find the strength to push yourself up to your feet completely, and immediately you begin walking towards the metal machine without much resistance. 
It doesn’t really hit you that you have no idea what this machine is or what it does. You don’t think you’ve seen anything like it. As you get closer, you can see a few items strung from the ceiling past the machine; weird plastic-clear looking tubes that are linked together in the same way clowns at parties twist balloons, and there’s iron-cast skillets hung on the ceiling from invisible hooks. Huh. Weird. Despite the oddities of the items strung from the ceiling, you keep walking towards the machine. 
When you get even closer, the machine becomes less blurred and comes more into focus. It looks completely untouched. There’s a large funnel at the top, one that requires a ladder to get to—conveniently, there’s a ladder set up on and welded to the machine itself—and beneath that is a horizontal tube that tapers off into a smaller, funnel-like shape at the end with a much smaller opening. You tilt your head curiously at the machine. It’s so shiny. Though, the longer you stare at it, the grainier it gets. 
Suddenly, cutting through your thoughts, you feel a harsh push at your back that almost has you knocking into the machine. Before you can even turn around to see who felt that they had the audacity to push you so harshly, that same entity that pushed you quickly lifted you into the air. Whatever they’re using to hold you up feels like absolutely nothing—as if they were just gathering enough air molecules to swoop you up. 
“H—” You try to protest, but your throat doesn’t work. Before you can say anything, it just gives out, and leaves you wheezing for a moment before trying again only to discover that, to your horror, you cannot talk. 
Your throat seems to close up every time you try to say anything. All that comes out are breathy wheezes and coughs that leave a strangely bad pain in your chest. As you try to stop your coughing, whatever is picking you up quickly dumps you into the large funnel on top of the machine. It’s cold and bites at your skin unforgivingly, making you hiss in discomfort. You don’t even clock how the cold is irritating your skin, despite you being fully clothed and none of your bare skin being exposed to the metal of the machine. 
You try to move your hands to the sides of the funnel to push yourself up, but you move at a painfully slow speed, and can’t do anything but stand still. Like a mannequin, you’re forced into a standing position and can’t do anything but stand in the funnel. You look down, and you’re standing on what seems to be some sort of cylinder. The bottom of the funnel ends around your mid-calf. 
Oddly, this reminds you of those nightmares you used to have when you were younger, where you were running from something or someone but moved too slow to get away. 
Suddenly, the cylinder begins to move. 
It spirals in place, making you quickly lose your balance and soon you’ve fallen in a lying position on the cylinder as it turns. It starts at a slow pace but starts to speed up, in time with your panic. You try to scramble to your feet but your limbs don’t allow it, keeping you stuck in place, the cylinder starting to turn even faster. 
You’re uncomfortably folded and pushed through the small ending of the funnel as the cylinder keeps moving, and once you’re through, you start to hear a strange whirring. 
It’s loud and sounds like some sort of shitty metal fan. It clangs against the sides of whatever tube you’re in and occasionally makes a horrible screeching noise that, if you could, you would cover your ears to escape. You turn your head to the side ever-so-slightly and see the “metal fan” itself—four sharp blades that spin clockwise, with a weird hole-filled circle behind them. You furrow—or, well, try to at least—your eyebrows at the sight. 
The fuck is that? You don’t realize you’re getting closer to it. 
The cylinder is now turning at an exceptionally fast pace, and only when you’re a few feet from the blades do you realize just how close you are to them. 
“Wait—” You finally find your voice, though it sounds far away and is muddy in your ears, “Stop, stop—” 
You’re not sure what else to say. You can’t tell if you’re begging, commanding, demanding, or anything of the sort. All you know is that the cylinder is going faster and faster, at an almost punishing pace that leaves you wondering what you could’ve done to deserve whatever the hell is happening to you. The blades emit an ungodly screech each time they get caught on a bump on the insides of the tube, and as you get even closer you can spot bright orange rust on the blades. 
The texture is enough to make you gag. You’re getting closer, and closer, and soon you’re barely a foot away from it. The screeching and the whirring is so loud. You can’t hear anything else—or, wouldn’t be able to hear anything else, if there was anything else to be heard. 
You can barely continue your train of thought before you feel a sharp, cold rush through your ankle. 
You hadn’t been paying enough attention. You didn’t realize how close your feet had gotten to the blades. 
The sound it had made when it was cut off was sickening. A loud pop, the same kind of pop that sounds when you break open the tab of a can. You open your mouth to scream but nothing comes out, and suddenly the rest of your leg is getting shredded by those same blades, and dear God, it’s so cold. It feels like dry ice cutting right through your calves, making its way up to your knees, soon to your thighs, much faster than you can process. 
Your thoughts come in small fleets that go as soon as they come and you’re never able to continue or dwell on a single one, always getting interrupted by the white-cold pain that literally cuts through your upper thighs. You can’t feel anything from the waist down. You can’t feel your legs, your feet, and you’re losing feeling in your hips—
Your hands desperately grasp at the cylinder, and you’re not sure what you’re doing but you’re trying to do something, anything, as long as it delays the inevitable shredding of your torso and head. But it doesn’t work. Of course it doesn’t. Whatever you had intended to do doesn’t work, and soon there’s a sharp cold pain that cuts into your ribcage, and suddenly you can’t even feel your stomach. 
Somewhere in the back of your mind, you can recognize the small sobs that escape you. 
Your chest is the next to go, and soon it’s your shoulders, and even though they’re not gone yet your hands have already gone numb, and you’re bracing yourself for the sharp-cold pain to reach your neck when suddenly—
You wake up, body immediately getting into an upright sitting position and your chest heaving as sweat drips down your forehead. The sweat is cold and your breathing is loud in your ears, your ears which are filled with ringing, the sound of just anything enough to make your breath hitch and a sob crawl into your throat. With open-mouthed pants, you blink rapidly at the space in front of you, before quickly raising your hands to your face and letting out a loud, shaky sigh when you can actually feel the air moving through your fingers. 
They aren’t numb. You plant them on the ground and just feel around, the rough fabric of your tent gliding under your hands. You shake your head vigorously, letting out another relieved sigh when you find that it’s still attached to your neck and hasn’t been sliced through. You move your legs and they’re still attached to your body. Everything is still on you. You’re in the same clothes you went to sleep in. You have all of your body parts. You are in one piece. Nothing is missing. You’re fine. 
Despite repeating to yourself that everything’s okay—you’re physically together, you’re in a tent in the middle of the fucking woods and the worst thing that could happen to you is getting jumped by a bear in your sleep—nothing feels okay. There’s still the phantom feeling of getting put through a meat grinder that keeps a perpetual tremble in your bones, that keeps you unknowing of how to act like you’re in one piece. Not act. You are in one piece. But you aren’t. You swear, even though it was just some stupid dream, that it felt real enough to have actually happened. 
“[c/n]?” Soap’s tired voice snaps you out of your thoughts. Right. We’re sharing a tent. You quickly whip your head to look at him, chest still rising up and down rapidly as your unstable breathing continues. You don’t say anything, simply staring at him with wide eyes. 
“Are ye alright?” He frowns, quickly growing more awake the more concerned he gets, “Whit’s wrong?” 
Maybe you’re in some form of shock, but you find yourself staying silent out of the fear of something happening. You’re not sure what that ‘something’ is, but it’s there, and it’s holding you back from even attempting to speak. Your breath hitches and your throat stings. 
“Hey, uh,” Soap pushes himself up with a grunt and walks over a short few steps to you, kneeling down once he’s beside you, “Jist breathe, everything’s gonnae be alright.”
You know he’s not exactly the best at comforting people. He’s always been better with more technical things, and would much rather help you with math homework or something over trying to comfort you after something traumatic. It’s not that he doesn’t want to—of course he does, and he wishes he was much better than he is now at it—but he can never manage to find the right words. 
He puts a tentative hand on your shoulder and you stare at it as it reaches you, flinching back immediately when you can actually feel his hand over your shirt. He pulls his hand back instantly, expression growing even more concerned. 
“Do ye wannae tell me whit happened?” Soap whisper-asks. When you quickly shake your head ‘no’, Soap thinks for a moment before offering, “Do ye want me tae get onyone else?” 
You think about his words for a moment before nodding. He sighs. 
“Who?” 
Your gaze flickers from the exit of the tent before going back to Soap.
“… Cap’n Price,” You quietly decide. Soap nods and reluctantly gets up, making his way out of the tent. 
A few minutes later, you hear Soap walk back into the tent as well as another set of feet that trail right behind him. You look up and over at the entrance of the tent and see your Captain. His eyes are immediately on you, and as soon as he sees the mystified look in your eyes, he’s quick to make his way to you and kneel down beside you. 
He doesn’t know what to say for a moment, you can tell. He instinctively brings a hand up to put on your shoulder like he typically would in situations like these, but something causes him to bring his hand back down and away from you. Maybe Soap told him how you reacted earlier? You brush off the thought for now, more focused on whatever Price is trying to do. 
The reason you wanted him here instead of the others was mainly because you felt the least embarrassed around him. Which was weird, considering that he’s of the highest rank compared to you and the others, but still—you can’t imagine him judging you, not even for the most outrageous things. Maybe he’d have a small fit over you saying “soccer” instead of “football”, but otherwise, you can’t think of a world where he judges you for something like having a nightmare. 
And sure, the others have them too and probably wouldn’t judge you either, but still. Price will probably always be your first option for situations like these. 
“Soap hadn’t told me what happened, yet,” Price says softly, “D’you mind filling me in?” 
If this were anyone else, you’d be fighting the urge to jump off a cliff, but because it’s not, you simply answer, “Nightmare.” 
Your voice is a little clearer now, much to your relief, but it still carries that rasp from earlier. It doesn’t pain you to talk, but it does shock you that you even can, considering that you could barely form a whisper in your nightmare. And yes, that’s a silly thought, knowing that all of that was a nightmare, but you couldn’t care less about that right now.
“A nightmare, alright,” Price hums, before suggesting, “My tent’s bigger than yours, y’know. You wanna bring your sleeping bag over there, so we’re all together? Power in numbers, yeah?”
 You nod mindlessly, agreeing with anything Price says. He smiles at you and hesitantly puts a hand on your shoulder, doing it slowly enough that you have plenty of time to let him know if it’s not okay, but you allow it. Price shoots a look at Soap and the latter nods, confirming whatever Price’s silent look asked him. 
“Alright,” Price gives your shoulder one last squeeze before standing up, waiting for you to stand up as well. Once you do, he starts to walk out of the tent, expecting you to walk after him. Surprisingly, Soap gets up as well, sleeping bag and pillow in hand. Huh. Maybe that’s what he was confirming. You quickly pick up your sleeping bag and pillow, movements a little more stilted than usual as you didn’t expect to actually be able to move as quickly as you can now, and follow Price out of your tent. 
You shiver as you walk out into the cold outside of the woods, and are quick to walk to the much bigger tent across from yours. 
When you enter the tent, Gaz remains asleep while Ghost almost immediately wakes up. It’s uncanny, the speed at which his eyes open and dart to your figure—as if he was never asleep in the first place. You push those thoughts aside and wait for Price to walk in. 
“Wh’t’s goin’ on?” Ghost asks sleepily, his British accent making his slurred words nearly impossible to decipher. 
“They’re stayin’ in here for the rest of the night,” Price answers for you, nodding over to you as he refers to you. 
Ghost looks over at you and you can sense his raised eyebrow despite not being able to see it. You look to Price to explain your situation for you again, and once he sees you look at him, he explains, “Nightmare.” 
Ghost blinks before nodding understandably. Almost immediately, he conks out and goes right back to sleeping like the dead, making Price snort. Price turns to you, and gestures towards the empty spot next to Gaz, the spot conveniently empty and just perfectly sized for your sleeping bag. You walk over there as quietly as you can, shuffling around Ghost’s and Price’s sleeping bags, and gently lay your sleeping bag down next to Gaz’s. 
You set down your pillow inside of the sleeping bag and kneel down as quietly as you can, a soft rustling sounding from your sleeping bag as you settle in. You turn on your side and let out a quiet sigh, eyelids already drooping with exhaustion. You’ve turned towards Gaz, and he’s turned towards you, and you look over his sleeping face for a moment before deciding to catch up on your own rest. 
Just as you’re about to close your eyes, you watch his open. 
“...” He stares at you for a moment, before he sleepily whispers, “Hey.” 
“Hi.” 
“… Y’good?” He asks, looking at your still-glassy eyes and very-clearly-worn-out expression. 
“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” You answer, trying to offer a tiny bit of reassurance. 
“Alright,” Gaz hums, accepting your answer easily, and closing his eyes once again. 
A small smile graces your lips. You’re all used to going to sleep easily, of course, on missions like these—you kind of need to be, given that you’re all military. It took you a bit, but you eventually got used to it, and gained that skill just a few months after joining the task force. 
Speaking of which, you find yourself drifting off to sleep not long after Gaz closes his eyes again, and soon enough, you’ve already fallen asleep—this time, without nightmares or dreams.
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artiststarme · 1 year
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I've seen a few people talking about how cool a hellfire 'adopting' steve fic would be and since youre my favorite steddie writer I immediately thought of you. If you want to, I think you'd write that situation really well
Thank you! I'm really glad that you like reading my fics and I hope this meets your expectations!
~*~*~*~
​​Eddie was long in the business of collecting lost sheep. He himself knew what it was like to be alone, to be ostracized and isolated for being a little bit too different in a town as bland as Hawkins. So whenever he could, he tried to help people. He looked for those that needed support the most and tried to befriend them because he knew what it was like to go through life without it. If he could be the shepherd needed to guide the lost sheep, he would. 
In the late fall of Eddie’s senior year, something happened that no one could have predicted, an event so shocking that it shook the entire town. All of Hawkins was in a state of surprise, and all of the students at the high school were rattled. Steve Harrington had lost his title of King. He went from having throes of close friends and confidants at the top of the social hierarchy to having no one and resting at the bottom. 
Eddie didn’t know what had happened over a single weekend to make King Steve lose everything but when he saw him sitting all alone at one of the empty tables in the corner at lunch, exiled by his peers and poking at his food, Eddie felt compelled to step in. 
He stood up from his seat at the head of the Freak table with his eyes still on Steve. He took one step before a hand grabbed his arm and stopped him in his tracks. 
“What are you doing?” Gareth hissed at him, trying to plant him back in his seat. 
“I’m going to go talk to Steve.”
“Harrington? What the hell is the matter with you? Are you insane? He was bullying us just last week!” Grant whisper-yelled at him. 
“Okay, no he wasn’t,” Eddie defended. “He didn’t say anything and he told Tommy H to leave us alone when he was messing with us.”
That didn’t seem to help his case as much as he thought it would and he sighed. “Look guys, something obviously happened to him since he’s sitting there alone and picking at a bag of peanuts while all of his old friends are ignoring him and enjoying their lunches. We don’t judge here and we don’t know Steve enough to form an accurate opinion. So, I’m going to go get him and you’re all going to be nice. I have a feeling he needs that right now.”
His friends blinked at him wordlessly and he nodded. “I’m glad you’ve come to your senses. I’m going to go get him.”
And with that, he stalked over to the fallen king with the entire student body glaring at him in appall. He stopped just short of Steve’s chair and flashed his biggest grin at him. Upon seeing Steve’s concern however, he muted his grin into something less ‘I’m a maniac’ and more ‘you should be my friend’. 
“Hey Harrington, how are you today?” Eddie asked him. 
Steve just blinked up at him for a moment. His eye was bruised and his cheekbone was bloody. He looked like utter shit and that was saying something coming from Eddie. 
“Um, I’m alright. How are you?”
Eddie’s smile brightened, “I’m great! How are you?”
“Still alright? Can I help you with something?” Steve asked him in confusion. 
“Yes, I saw you over here by your lonesome and decided to sequester you to my table instead. Your former court doesn’t deserve to feast on the sight of your suffering.” Eddie may have gone a little bit overboard on that one. 
Steve squinted at him. “Dude, I might still have a concussion but that didn’t make any sense at all.”
“You have a concussion?” Eddie asked in concern.
“Um, yeah. Byers has a mean right hook. He’s tougher than people give him credit for, I guess.”
“Byers? Like Jonathan Byers?” Eddie’s eyes widened. What the fuck had he done to piss of Jonathan ‘The Wallflower’ Byers?
“No, his little brother Will. Yes, Jonathan Byers,” Steve snarked sassily. 
“Jesus Christ, I did not know he had it in him. He looks more like a lover than a fighter, you know?”
“Not really?” Steve shook his head slightly. 
“Anyways, I feel like we’ve bonded. So since we’re friends now, do you want to come sit at my table? We hoard chocolate pudding, gossip about the popular kids, and play the amazing fantasy game that Christian mothers everywhere like to hate. You in?”
Steve watched him for a moment before biting his lip in thought. “How much chocolate pudding are we talking?”
“Tons. Grant’s mom is the lunch lady so we have a near endless supply and an ally on the dark side. We also get extra apple juice and all of the carrots one could ever want. It’s the gift that keeps on giving.” That was a bit of an over-exaggeration considering Grant had to steal her work key to get them the food but it was still kind of true. 
Steve grabbed his bag of chex mix and his backpack and stood toe to toe with Eddie. “Now that’s an offer that I can’t refuse. Lead the way, Munson.”
Eddie smiled, he’d added another lost sheep to his herd. “After me, Harrington!”
They both stalked across the now-silent lunch room back to his table. Jeff, Gareth, and Grant were looking up at the two of them in surprise like they hadn’t expected his amazing personality to win over Steve Harrington. 
“Alright, this is Jeff, Gareth, and Grant. Boys, this is Steve. Steve-O, take a seat!” Eddie announced boisterously. He pushed Gareth off his chair and motioned for Steve to take it. “Oh, look! An empty chair right next to my seat! Steve, you can sit right here!”
He saw Steve give a sympathetic look to Gareth but he sat down regardless. Eddie planted a cup of chocolate pudding right in front of him and smiled deviously. “Now Steve, what do you know about Dungeons & Dragons?”
“Um, I know that the kids I babysit like to play it and it’s some sort of storytelling game with lots of math?” he muttered.
Eddie just gasped along with the rest of Hellfire. “‘Some sort of storytelling game’? That’s the worst possible way you could’ve described it, Harrington! It’s not a game, it’s an experience!”
All three of the guys defended it at once.
“I can’t believe he just said that!”
“Lots of math? It’s a reasonable amount!”
“Next he’s going to say he doesn’t know what a dungeon master is!”
“Oh is that some sort of dice?” Steve asked them in confusion. 
“Jesus fucking Christ,” one of the guys muttered.
“No, I’m the Dungeon Master. I tell-” Eddie tried to explain. 
“Sounds kinky.”
“What the fuck-” Eddie yelled. Looking at the smile on Steve’s face, he knew that bringing him into Hellfire's fold was a good idea. He was a little concerned at just how easy he was riling up the guys but he had a good feeling about this sheep. Very good, indeed.
(Eddie starts dating him two weeks later after Steve lets it slip that he knows what a paladin is. How is Eddie not supposed to kiss him when he made his way to his little nerd heart?)
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shakingparadigm · 14 days
Note
The thing to me is that i dont know what to expect anymore. After round 3 everyone first conclusion was probably that ivan would die for(or bcs) Till so i was waiting for something to subvert my expectations but no they played it straight.
“Luka vs Till is no competition”” They wouldnt do romh twice” now im not so sure.
Also I see the doomed toxic yaoi but I cant with how good my boys look 😭 Till in black or jacked + fingerless gloves, mullet ,maybe little bangs, ivan in white full coat , slicked back hair. They look so good.
Ivan's hair being slicked back was the only correct answer after we saw Till's long hair down. He looks so damn good actually. I know he died but at least he served one last immaculate outfit before eating shit.
Dude. I was the exact same. Ivan dying in this way was genuinely the most predicted outcome of ROUND 6, so I thought... surely it couldn't be so easy... VIVINOS must have another card up their sleeve! Yeah! The card up their sleeve was the same card they were fucking holding in their hand already because they PLAYED IT STRAIGHT. I laughed myself silly after watching the video because it just made sense. We expected something more complicated, more devastating, more drawn out than Ivan just straight up dying this round. VIVINOS set up the possibility of a jailbreak and we ended up getting too comfortable. Just because Mizi was successfully rescued doesn't mean lightning will strike twice. Ivan dying was a massive blow, yes, but an underrated frame that holds the same amount of devastation is the shot of Hyuna and Mizi hiding, Hyuna bleeding from the side. They were there. They tried to save them and they couldn't make it. They failed. And they don't even know that they failed yet because Hyuna was shot. If they played Ivan's death straight, they certainly subverted expectations with Mizi and Hyuna's jailbreak. They weren't even a part of the main video. They didn't even make it to the stage itself. And honestly, that's realistic. Of course things end up going wrong, that's just how it is. The hope for a jailbreak made the pain twice as impactful when Ivan starts getting shot. There's a sense of hopelessness watching it. They saved Mizi before her execution, surely they can do the same now, right? Where are they? We really got too comfortable with the idea of a rebellion rescue, we failed to remember that in the end, they're only human.
Well, now we're at Till vs Luka. Can't say I'm shocked. I'm just gonna sit back and see how everything unfolds from here. I'll try not to make castles out of playing cards next time.
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muniesstuff · 9 months
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I really want to see fanart, fanfic, post, I'll take anything, about the fall out between spider gang and miles. I'm talking the universe said "fuck you" to both sides and made shit go sideways and fast.
Miguel said Miles dad had to die? Universe took both of his parents.
Miles still has Ganke? Universe takes him too
Miles has already seen two people die in front of him? Universe add four more and make it back to back, that little girl his dad died for, yeah she gotta go too.
Peter said Miles is a tough kid? Universe said to break him when they barely win and have him go right into shock.
Miguel said cannon events (his predictions) will stabilize the multiverse? The spot almost wipes 1610 out and nearly takes miles with it.
Peter and Gwen were only trying to do the right thing? Miles has lost everyone close to him and can never get them back.
Gwen wants to go back to the way things were? Too bad Miles can never give her that kind of trust again. He definitely can't love her in that potential romantic way again because she hurt him.
Peter wants to help the kid through this tough time? To come to an understanding? Miles understands, and he gets why Mayday comes first. But Peter hurt him too, so there are going to be a long heart to heart and a lot of tears. Their relationship has to start from scratch and slowly heal from there.
Miguel didn't think things would turn out like this? He thought Miles was the cause that he couldn't even clock the spot? He had to carry back a catatonic Miles back to hq to rush him to medical because the shock very nearly finished what the spot started.
Miguel wants to apologize? Wants Miles to get better? Miles is terrified of him, not because of his looks, but because of his actions. But they are both each other's triggers, so the first two month (out of the hospital) or so, they send each other into outburst and panic attacks. Miles is triggered by the chase. Miguel is triggered by feeling reminded of Gabriel by Miles eyes, smile, and some similarities in personality. They get there eventually, and I feel like they'll get there before peter and Miles get there. Mostly because Miguel and Miles didn't know each other like that.
Friends want to visit Miles while he's recovering? Nope, they set him off into a panic or aggressive outburst. The only person that can go in or near miles is Hobbie. At some point Pav and Mayday worm their way in. Nearing the end of his hospital stay Porker, peni, and noir also work their way in. But Hobbie becomes important to Miles very quickly as a point of trust. His main support system are Hobbie and Pav.
My point is that I want to see "your actions have consequences" and not only with Miguel. Yeah , he played a big part, but let's be honest, it all felt like a huge mental breakdown. But Peter? He was Miles's mentor, and he looked up to him. And Gwen knew Miles longer than peter did and Miles was obviously crushing on her. So, she had to hurt the most out of the two.
I just want some juice angst for everyone.
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satrs · 8 months
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Happily Ever After!
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ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ; How they proposed to you!
ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀɪɴɢ; Gojo Satoru. Geto Suguru. Fushiguro Toji.
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ; 1.1k
TAGS; fluff, fluff, FLUFFFF!!! mention of marriage(obv). soft guysss.
ᥲ/ᥒ ꜝꜝ ✎ felt the need to write lovely-dovey stuff abt them sooo// part 2!?!?!?!
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GOJO SATORU
You got used to Satoru's goofy persona, unable to predict what his mischievous mind would scheme next. You loved every last bit of his spontaneity, getting up every day in an impassable way, Satoru ready to jump in as you aid, leading the way to another exciting episode.
"Okay, so I've been thinking." "Ohhh, doesn't sound good." He looked at you, offended by your words. "Hey!" You chuckled at his child-like behavior, urging him to continue. "It's random but, I thought about your surname. And no offense," he stopped himself, finger pointing at his chin in thought, "Alright, a bit offense from my end - it doesn't suit you at all."
You raise your eyebrow, stopping in your tracks as you crane your head in his direction, "And what do you want me to do about that?" He ignored your sarcastic tone, snipping his fingers before pointing at you, smug smirk adoring his moisturized lips. "That's the spirit! You should change it! To mine, of course."
You stood there, dumbfounded, surprised by his sudden confession. Was this one of his jokes again? "So, you want to marry me?" He looked at you, excited glint in his eyes as he nodded eagerly, taking your hand back in hand ready to continue your walk.
"Wait, wait." You stop him, curious orbs falling on you. "You do know that's a blunt proposal right now? Without a ring or any of that movie stuff?"
He chuckled, walking right before you as he looked down at you, caressing your cheek with his hand, actions motivated by pure love and adoration.
"I could teleport anywhere in the world and buy the most precious and expensive ring you cloud dream of, baby." You were left speechless again, watching him turn around, whistling while continuing his path. "If you say yes, that is."
You giggle, hot on his trail, your hand interwinding with his. "Well then, yes. I would love to marry you, Satoru."
And behold, the white-haired sorcerer woke you up the next day, a bright smile stretching across his lips as he was in the middle of sliding a ring onto your finger.
And it was truly even more breathtaking than you ever imagined it to be.
GETO SUGURU
He was 100% sure and ready for this. He planned every last bit of this thoroughly and was ready to call you up and tell you where to meet him-
"There you are! Knew you would be here." He froze, color drained from his features as he looked at you as if you were a ghost. "How did you-"
His eyes widened as you walked up to him, holding up what seemed to be a checklist - oh, shit.
"To-do list for Y/N's proposal", you read out loud, going on. "Head to her favorite place and set everything up. Decoration," you looked around the place, nodding in approval as you did a 'tick' motion with your finger. "Check." He must've forgotten the list on the dining table. Unlucky wretch.
You scanned over the list, almost bursting out in laughter at the face the black-haired man was making. "Everything is done. But there is one thing missing."
Your gaze lifted up to meet his eyes, only to notice him kneeling down, propping up a casket that contained one eye candy of a ring, a sigh of defeat leaving him. "Yeah, yeah. The main event."
Your once playful facade threatened to crumble as you felt the corner of your eyes sting at his words. "So, my darling detective, will you marry me?"
Unable to speak, too scared your voice would crack so you simply nod, forming the word 'yes' with your mouth, and as he put the ring on your finger, the waterfall was already running. "Well, didn't write this down to happen but, 'check' I guess." You laugh between tears at his joke, earning a snicker in return. "Oh, shut up."
Your teary eyes look up at him and he puts his hand on your cheek, wiping your vision clear with his thumb before placing a soft kiss on your nose, lips resting on yours right after before whispering his following words against them.
"So, do you want to know what's on the list next or not?" This caught your attention, lifting your hand up to your face and admiring the ring for a moment, smiling to yourself before averting your gaze to the list.
"A picnic?" Your gasp made him chuckle. "Yup. Figured you're reaction would be to die for." He took your hand in his to lead you to the scenery he laid out, your tears threatening to flow again at his effort.
"Urgh, my mascara is all smugged because of you now", you groan playfully, taking his face in your hold to capture his lips, feeling his smile against your lips. "You're welcome."
FUSHIGURO TOJI
Toji had to think about this really well and be completely ready for this big step himself. Since he was already married once, which ended in a divorce, he thought that marriage just wasn't meant for someone like him until he met you.
The both of you lay in bed, cuddling and talking about nothing and everything at the same time. It was when Toji looked up at you from his position on top of you, head lifting from your neck as his orbs examined your face that your giggle soon fell dead.
"Hm?" The cute expression you offered him made him lightly chuckle. "I don't know, maybe it's too early." You flashed him a confused look, eyebrow raising as you carefully sneaked out of his hold, sitting up on the bed to listen to him continue. "Too early for what?"
You grew impatient with every laugh he choked out, arms crossing over your chest. "Toji."
Shit- he was nervous. There is no doubt he was a confident man but, this was different. His first marriage wasn’t successful, and he’s scared that this might also go downhill. But there is no way, right?
“Tojiiii.” Alright, fuck it. He snickered, turning around to reach over for the nightstand as you try to peek over his shoulder, curious about what he is searching for on the shelf.
Your whining fell deaf, eyes widened with an unreadable expression on your face, almost making him regret his intention. “So…?” He managed to choke out, clearing his throat right after, awaiting your answer.
It was his turn to be surprised as tears rolled down your face, bright smile on your lips as you hug him, almost squeezing the life out of him.
“Is that a no?” He covered his troubles with a nervous laugh, chuckle growing in confidence after you answer.
“Yes! I mean, no.” You slapped his shoulder playfully at his raised eyebrow, "You know what I mean", a worried expression on your face once you notice the ring almost falling from his hand.
“Careful now. Worked my ass off for this bling. Now gimme your hand, gorgeous. You know how it goes.”
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©︎𝐊-𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐒. all rights reserved. Do NOT plagiarize, copy, modify, republish, or translate my work in any way!
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nohoney · 9 months
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I remember falling in love with your “Coffee & Cigarettes” touya, I am such a sucker for domestic shit like imagine waking up hungover as shit but still a bit horny. After touya had his breakfast (read: coffee n ciggs) and you’re still in bed, he just comes up to you smelling and tasting a bit ashy. You just go wild on him, trying your best to get smashed with your head still throbbing. Imagining this made me so giddy fr
You say you hate it but Touya knows that you love it.
The nasty smell of cigarettes lingers on the tips of his fingers. It’s on his breath and infused in the fibers of his clothes. It’s a habit that he genuinely does want to eventually reduce but that’s a long project in the making.
“F-fuck…”
He holds your jaw as he fucks into your cunt, your legs over his shoulders and the early morning sun filtering through the curtains. Your breathy moans are slightly strained, mostly trying to stifle them so that they neighbors above don’t complain about you again. “Touya, oh fuck Touya!”
“Yeah princess? Got something to say?”
His breath is ashy when he leans down to kiss you. Touya knows that once he cums in you and you have post sex clarity, you’re gonna lecture him about not brushing his teeth after smoking. He knows that it makes you mad later on but you don’t have it in you to push him away.
If anything, your hand is at the nape of his neck to keep him where he is.
You say you hate it? Yeah right, Touya knows you better than you’re willing to admit.
“No, kiss me more!” You beg for him when he pulls away. “Touya!”
God, you are such a whiny little thing. Outside of this bedroom, you’re a little bossy and luckily he’s the type to go with what you want most of the time. When you’re out and about, operating like a functioning adult, if something doesn’t go you’re way you just let it go. But when you’re needy and creaming on his dick, you get all childish if he even teases you just a little bit. You pout and your voice pitches, high with want and just a teeny bit of frustration.
“Shut up, fucking christ.” Touya tuts at you first before shoving two of his fingers into your mouth. You whine again but your tongue licks at the skin of his fingers. It makes you heady and he can see how your eyes shut in pleasure when you taste the nicotine and tobacco. “Nasty girl, aren’t you?”
“Mmf!” you shake your head to disagree but the squeeze of your cunt around his dick makes him think differently.
He doesn’t know why you keep insisting that you don’t like the smell or taste of him after a smoke when it’s so clear that you do. Touya won’t deny that it is cute to him though in the moment.
“Brush your fucking teeth! It was so gross when you wanted to make out when we were having sex.” You complain to him later on, as he predicted you would.
When you’re nagging him, it’s not as cute, but nothing that a little kiss doesn’t settle you. And Touya knows that you’d be embarrassed if he ever pointed it out too. So he goes out for his smoke like usual, sipping on his coffee and thinking back to ninety minutes ago that you were sucking the taste of cigarettes off his fingers.
“Touya! This reeks of smoke! I have to wash the pillowcases now!” You call from inside the apartment.
“Alright, alright. I’m sorry doll.” he sighs as he stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray. “Acting like you hate it so much…”
“What did you say?” You ask him sharply.
“Nothin’. I’m washing my hands now.” Touya starts to head towards the restroom, but not before cupping your cheek in his hand and making you kiss him first. And he lingers for a moment before he pulls away, smiling to himself as he goes to the restroom.
You’re a little liar; you didn’t push him away.
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chrisbitchtree · 6 months
Text
A short little fill for @harringrovekinktober day 26 - Dry humping!
NSFW
***
Billy and Steve had been circling each other almost the whole night, practically since the moment Steve had arrived with Robin and she’d promptly ditched him, on the lookout for Heather, or Vicki from band, or both. Of course, Robin had options, but Steve had Billy Hargrove eyeing him with a wolfish grin over the rim of his beer can, so he’d call that a win. He rolled his eyes at the ridiculous, cocky, sexy guy across the room from him.
The tension had been thick between the two of them since that summer, since Billy had miraculously survived Starcourt. He’d broken down crying in front of Billy once, in his hospital room, while Steve visited him one late July afternoon. Steve wasn’t usually a crier, but knowing all that Billy had gone through, only to see him smile at the nurses and joke about his sick new scars, made everything hit Steve like a brick wall.
They hadn’t discussed the tears, or how Billy had taken Steve’s hand in his own, rubbing comforting circles over the back of it, or the almost kiss they’d shared a week later, before being interrupted by the physical therapist come to whisk Billy away. They hadn’t come close again since, but they both knew what they wanted, and it seemed like tonight might be the night, almost exactly a year since they’d first met.
***
“Fuck, thought we’d never find an empty room,” Steve panted against Billy’s neck, where he was in the process of leaving a massive hickey.
“How dare any other drunk teenagers be horny,” Billy laughed.
“Yeah, yeah, yuck it up, Bender,” Steve replied. Of course, Billy had gone as John Bender. Predictable. Steve was dressed as Marty McFly. Way cooler. “I can feel how excited you are to have a room to ourselves.” He pressed a leg between Billy’s thighs for emphasis.
Billy moaned, humping up against him, his hands buried in Steve’s hair as Steve continued his mission to mark every inch of Billy that he could get his lips and teeth on.
“You like that, eh? You like humping against me like a bitch in heat? You wanna come like this?” Steve asked, as he finally raised his head to recapture Billy’s lips with his own.
Billy plunged his tongue into Steve’s mouth, seemingly on a mission to lick his tonsils, before pulling back so they could both get some air. “Bed,” Billy panted out, gesturing to the bed that, oh god, from the look of the stuffed animals littering the pink duvet and the dollhouse in the corner, belonged to a little girl. Steve double checked that the door was locked before leading Billy to the tiny bed.
Steve laid down first, pulling Billy down on top of him, so they could continue their exploration of each other’s mouths, and they could keep rutting against each other.
Part of Steve felt like he was back in sophomore year, humping up against his dates who wouldn’t let him do more than that while he copped a feel through their bras, but it was nice to take it slow, or at least slow for half an hour after their first kiss.
They found a rhythm and stayed like that for a while, panting into each other’s mouths, hands buried under each other’s shirts, but Steve could feel the coil of heat slowly building in his gut, and he wanted to chase it. “Give me your leg,” he said, and Billy got with the program quickly, wedging his thick thigh between Steve’s own.
Steve may be the bitch in heat now, but he couldn’t care less, his hands squeezing Billy’s ass as he rode his leg, humping it again and again until he was cumming in his pants, his teeth buried in Billy’s shoulder to muffle his cries.
Steve only had a minute to catch his breath before Billy was arranging himself around Steve’s thigh so he could have his own turn. God, his moans were music to Steve’s ears. It wasn’t long before Billy was cumming with one last moan that Steve tried to catch most of by pulling Billy in for a kiss.
“Shit, that was fun,” Billy huffed. Then sounding almost shy, which was ridiculous, considering they were on some stranger’s bed, the inside of their pants slick and wet with their release, Billy added. “We should do this again sometime, princess.”
“I thought that was a given,” Steve chuckled, pulling Billy into his arms, and holding him close. In a few minutes, they’d need to get up and do something with the comforter, wash it, or maybe burn it, but for now, he just enjoyed the bubble of quiet here in this bedroom, an escape from the world around them.
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stinkyme · 9 months
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Hello! This is a Tachihara little oneshot I wrote like..now lol, but I hope you like it and enjoy it! :)
CW/TW: contains NSFW elements (nothing is specifically described, just experience itself is mentioned), established relationship, GN!reader, angst, departure, contains spoilers of manga/new bsd episode, if I forgot anything please let me know! :)
I am not all too confident in my angst but I hope it will be enjoyable :)
Last time || Tachihara Michizou x Reader
Tic - toc. Tic - toc. Tic - toc. Tic - toc. Tic - toc. Tic - toc.
Too loud.
Everything is way too loud. Clock on the wall feels like it's inside of your skull applying more pressure. Waves of the sharp sound were stuck inside of your head making it spin. Everything is blurry. You swallow.
"What did you just say?" you barely ask, not even sure whether you even said something just now. Your own voice gets drowned by everything else.
"You heard me. That's Fukuchi's plan. My plan is to put an end to it." Tachihara replies, evidently divided and troubled. Room appears smaller, more suffocating. Clock is getting louder. However, the more you look at him the more he seems sure of his decision.
"You will die." you spill your words like they are the most casual thing in the world. 
"You will die and there is nothing I can do about it." you widen your eyes, swallowing once more. Your throat feels tight as your eyes gain light only due to your tears forming.
Tachihara looks away, his eyes filled with a mixture of regret and anger.
"There is nothing I can do about it." you repeat yourself as realization is only now kicking in, everything becomes more real and heavy on your chest. Tachihara keeps looking away, closing his eyes for a moment as he is listening to his lover spiraling.
"Tell me. Tell me Tachihara!" you yell at him suddenly, overwhelmed by everything. By realization, by this plain room, by him.
"What the hell am I supposed to do now?!" you yell once more, your voice grows shaky as breathing gets harder. It feels like you have everything on your chest and absolutely nothing to put your hands on, to lift off at least a bit of the baggage. There is nothing you can do. Nothing. 
Tachihara flinches, not out of fear but out of uncomfortability and guilt. Last thing he ever wished was to put you in a position like this. He could've never predicted it.
"We don't have much time left, Y/N." he finally speaks, trying to be the calm one. Naturally, he made his decision and it was a final one. You stay silent. Your throat feels like it has thousands of hands around it, stopping you from saying anything. What would you even say? Your mind feels empty and hazy. Time moves too slow, but way too fast as well. You pray to something, anything that may hear you now, just to tell you what to do. But, you are met with silence. Until he speaks up.
"I decided. This is something I have to do. Do you think I like it?!" he is yelling now, overwhelmed with his own choice too.
"Do you think I give a shit?! About anyone or anything else?! Sure, yeah, I would love to be able to spend more time with Gin and the old man, to be able to.. see them, again. Normal. Sure. I would love that!" his voice switches between silent and loud as his emotions overwhelm his decision.
"Do you think I don't regret anything?! Do you think I don't wish to be able to live a little bit longer?" he suddenly makes a pause and sighs out.
"The only reason I am here right now is because of you. You are the only aspect that makes this decision many more times harder than it is! The hell with it." he says the last sentence with a certain pain, barely audible as his voice breaks. You keep watching him as he looks away again.
"But this is my decision. This is something I have to do. This is something I owe to the Mafia. To Jouno. To you." he says in a more calm tone. He looks at you for a quick moment, his eyes holding no hesitation.
Oh, how painful it is to be helpless. To be unable to stop somebody who accepted death as their resolve. To be unable to take them and shield them with your emotions. Clock gets silent. Now, you become more aware. 
"If you want to do something or help me in any way.." he trails off, closing his eyes for a moment.
"Then help me by letting me stay in your mind in a good way. Let me just be your Michizou for the very last time." his voice is a mixture of desperation and sadness.
How can you deny a dying man's wish? Is it to be optimistic and think if you don't fulfill his last wish maybe gods will give him more time? Or is it to be selfish and egotistical and think that you have any control over it?
"That's why I am here. I want to ask you to let me be me, for the very last time. I haven't gotten to be like that for a while now." he says in a more determined tone, this is his last time asking.
You feel your throat tighten as your eyes fill with tears.
But your heart is screaming at you.
Do it. Do it. Do it. Do it.
Don't be a fool.
So be it. If this is how it has to be, then you should savor that very last moment with him. You know already you will never be the same, so why not also let yourself be you for the very last time? 
"You don't owe me anything." you finally speak up, more calm than before. 
"You were..everything a person can need." you continue quietly.
"I will make sure that..your sacrifice doesn't go to waste. That's another thing I can promise." you say with more confidence now.
"So, please now… let us be us, once more." you speak with a soft smile, even though you feel your heart aching. 
He comes closer, embracing you in a deep, needy hug. Quickly enough your clothes are gone and your lips find each other in a desperate kiss of lovers who are soon to be unfairly torn away from each other. 
-----------------------------------------
You can feel your eyes watering the whole time during sex with him, not from pleasure itself, but from the fact that you know you are running out of time.
Each time he touches you, any part of you - your back, your thighs, your neck, your stomach, it feels like it's not enough. It feels like his touch just burns away from your skin. You are trying so hard to focus on how his touch feels. Each moment passes and you become more aware that this might be the last. Some sense of hope appears when he touches your skin in the same place again. But it dies out quickly. How you wish to be able to mold his hands into your skin, just so you can feel them, always. Never have to forget about the softness and touch of them. Tears roll down your face as you turn away from him, trying not to make him see. He notices, naturally and brings his hands closer to your face, his thumbs gently rubbing the tears away.
"I know. But, we said this will be us for the very last time. This is not, is it?" he tries to lighten up the mood with a soft voice and you turn your head around, facing him. You know he is right. You don't want the last thing he thinks about is your face filled with endless tears as you share the last act of intimacy with one another. You suddenly get filled with passion, putting your hands on his cheeks and giving him a deep kiss that is filled with all your love and desire. You try your best to make that kiss contain every fiber, every cell, every emotion of your being. You try to transfer part of your soul in it, just to keep him safe. Just to make him know how loved he is by you. He returns the same desire back, putting all of his being into the kiss and touch, hoping that part of him stays with you, always. Both of you squeeze your eyes as they fill up with tears, getting breathless as emotions start to overflow alongside pleasure.
You cum at the same time and stay hugged for a little while. There is no time left. It's time to say goodbye. You dress up, feeling more dreadful than ever. 
"I need to leave now." he says softly, his throat tightening and making it harder to speak.
"I know." you reply, looking at his tired face. He takes your hands and squeezes them with his, leaning forward and placing a long and strong kiss on top of them. He puts them on his chest for a moment as your eyes fill with tears once more. You take a breath in as he moves back up and leans closer to you, your hands still squeezed together on his chest.
"I love you. That's all you need to remember about me. That I love you with every part of my being." he says in a calm tone and you can feel your heart in your throat. That's what hurts the most. What about all the plans you had? About all the ideas and desires you had? What about the future? Where are you supposed to go now?
"I know. I love you too. I love you even more." you say as calmly as possible, knowing that the last thing you need now is an argument with him. But how much you desire to be able to ask him to run away with you. From everything and everyone. As if he reads your thoughts, he speaks up.
"I thought about it. But I can't run away." he says softly before letting go of your hands.
"That's not how we do it." he continues as he takes the necklace off of his neck. He takes your hand and places it inside of your palm, squeezing it with his own hand.
"I will always be with you, okay? You will never be alone. Not even for a moment. So, go on and achieve everything we wanted." he whispers as he places his forehead on yours for a moment before pulling away and placing a soft kiss on top of it.
You can feel your whole body getting insanely warm as your eyes tear up. He gently pulls away and smiles at you before turning away and leaving. You watch his back and you wish you could scream or yell. You wish you could say anything. You squeeze the necklace inside your hand, feeling so much anger and grief already. Tears roll down your cheeks but you keep it together until he looks at you for a very last time and waves at you, a sheepish smile on his face. He knew that a burden he left behind on you was unfair, but that's something he believed you can handle.
You wave and smile back. He closes the doors behind him slowly and you fall down on your knees, sobbing your heart out and trying to beg anybody just to keep him around. You know. It's futile.
Nothing will ever be the same again.
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nightgoodomens · 1 month
Note
How did you predict that ??! It is awesome but omg . Like honestly he is trying so hard to get her out there I do feel it is abit late tho.
More asks and answers below:
Because they went very basic obvious PR. If something feels forced, on purpose, not organic, not usual; if it stinks, it stinks for a reason.
It started with him making a point to mention her during his BAFTAs interviews to ensure they write her name down.
Constant mentions from a man who always avoided talking about her are always suspicious.
But hey maybe I’m too cynical?
Then with every article underlining she’s an ACTOR. Which was a stretch anyway and frankly no media would care to mention her if he didn’t tell them to.
But hey maybe I’m too cynical?
Then bang we wake up in the morning of BAFTAs with every trash magazine writing articles about her suddenly about some old stuff so they were told to do so because they had zero reason to do that themselves. They had zero reason to care about her when she hasn’t done anything new so they had to bring up really old stories and focus purely on her even though it was David’s day. So they were paid to do so.
But hey maybe I’m too cynical?
But then bang again we are suddenly getting a whole over-acted show. Oh my godddd you look amaaaazing he made such an amazed face right in front of the main camera where they decided to meet. What a coincidence! Click📸. Ohhh time for a huge PDA kiss in front of all these cameras! Click📸. Oh now you give me a long loved look and now I do that in return! Click📸. My goodness like in a perfect movie with actors… oh.
And then ok we are done, where’s Michael?
David has worked his ass off to give her everything he could, even getting Michael to give her a role, now it’s up to her to do something with it. He will probably try to push her wherever possible, but we will need to see if suddenly after all these years she became an actress that people want because of her skills not famous surnames. Surnames only get you so far.
If she’s still the same, he can dance on his head and it won’t work. Sure Neil is his buddy was loves a nepo show, and Michael loves David, so he did it for him (he did make her watch an intimate moment between men though lmao), but how many more people will take her on just because David is pretty?
Oh I wonder what suddenly made him so desperate and motivated to find her a job after years of failures… so he’d be more free… I wonder if it starts with M and ends with L.
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Honestly I was laughing when people were all “this is true love!” no babes this is business. The most blatant of businesses.
I doubt she suddenly became a good actress so I wonder if they will try something else with her. I just wish DT got a break and in result us.
I think things are a little different now and so might be his priories. I hope the agent won’t keep on using him to promote her. Even more than already.
Yeah I cross my fingers for GO to be nepo free but…
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No wonder he’s so tiny, dude is exhausted from everyone hanging on him. He tried so many freaking times with GT, I just hope that agent finds her something that isn’t just hanging on him.
He is a shover 😂
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If she actually wanted a job then she’d have found something she’s actually good at years ago. But she wants the “cool” job and doesn’t want to admit she just isn’t that good. When you are privileged, you can spend 15 years having your man try to make you an actress. Normal people go “damn I’m shit at this and I need to pay bills so let’s find something else”.
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Aw thank you for writing in and don’t worry!
I’m not 100% sure yet.
I could see AL/MS break up but not GT/DT but now I have a slight itching (after seeing that the PR show was indeed to get GT a job) whether… well…
We have such an extreme push to make GT and AL independent or at least slightly less dependent on the dudes and it’s clearly a whole plan that they have put into motion. Why such sudden need? Especially since soft launching MS/DT at the same time?
I definitely won’t say oh yeah sure there is a separation coming. But I’m also not saying “no way!!!” anymore.
If a separation will come then on beautiful (££) terms though.
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