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catskets · 4 months

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A more in-depth guide for creating visual novels, especially in the horror, horror-romance, etc circles

Some of you have seen my previous, smaller post on crafting visual novels, especially in this little space of Tumblr that a lot of us have found themselves in. Since that post took off, I've wanted to create a longer guide to help touch on some points I've thought about for the past few months.

In case you've never heard of me, I'm Kat, also known as catsket. I have a Bachelor of Fine Arts in Game Design. I've been making games for nearly 5 years, and I've been doing visual novels more "professionally" for 2. You may know me for Art Without Blood, 10:16, God is in the Radio, or Fatal Focus. I'm here to help you make your first visual novel.

Please note that my advice does not fit everyone, and you may disagree with what I say. That's okay! It doesn't work for all. That's why there's thousands of resources out there.

FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO HAVE NEVER MADE A GAME

So, you have an idea for a huge visual novel. Horror, a shady and obsessive love interest, a little bit of woo-hooing. 100k words. Maybe a million. What is this, the 07th Expansion?

I notice a lot of people getting into visual novels are artists first. That's okay! I wanted to do art for games before I realized how much I enjoyed writing. And even less of you have probably touched Visual Studio. Again, perfectly okay. We all start somewhere.

My number one piece of advice? Make shitty games.

What does that mean?! My recommendation to those who have never done games is to make a bunch of shitty ones. Think of a theme, or hell, even join a game jam, where you make a game that fits a theme in a short amount of time. Spend about a week on your game. Focus on making something polished. Polish your mechanics. Polish your output.

I recommend, if you can, to make at least 4-6, if not more, kind of shitty games before hopping into longer projects. Making a game is a skill, just like art, just like writing. And game development is combining ALL of these together into one big soup being stirred by a skeleton hand puppet. You'll get into the rhythm and see what works for you.

It also helps you learn, perhaps, the second most important thing here: do you even like making games? There are cases out there where people have created video games (not saying visual novels) just for clout. That's no fun for you, that's no fun for your players. And you might go through this process and find that you don't like making games. That's completely okay! It's not for everyone.

Also, you can use these shittier games to gather an audience. I've built my audience because, for the past few years, I've been releasing games that slowly give me growing fields of eyes every day. A success story overnight is a rare one. It takes time. It's like building a brand, but you aren't a brand, you're an artist.

REV UP YOUR ENGINES!

Ren'py is the number one engine you will be recommended. It is very beginner-friendly, with lots of tutorials, assets on itch.io to use and download, and support. The engine comes with a few tutorials in the form of games, whose code you can freely browse. This is the engine I use most often. Most visual novels you see are made in this engine.

Twine is a text-based engine that most people use for interactive fiction. You can add images and audio, though, if you don't mind messing with HTML. I use Twine for text games and for outlining for my larger games. Ever played Degrees of Lewdity? Yeah, I know you have. Don't ask why. That game was made in Twine.

RPG Maker has multiple versions and has been used for exclusively VNs if you don't mind fucking around with plugins. It can definitely give your game a super unique feel. I recommend RPG Maker MV, since it has the most resources. This line of engines usually costs money, but it often goes on sale for under $5-$15.

People will recommend TyranoBuilder, but as a user and player, the lack of options and the format the games often come in is just...not fun to navigate. It advertises itself as little to no code, but it's often evident in the final results. Some good games have been made in it, though, so if you want to use it for prototyping/practice, you can. I'm not a fan, but that doesn't mean that fans don't exist! This engine costs money.

Not an engine, but check out Ink! Super useful scripting language that's used for more professional projects.

DEMOS, DEMOS, DEMOS

You've got an idea for a long-term project, and now you want to show it to the world! But wait, wait, don't do that yet!

When should I start advertising my game? This is a personal opinion, but I say that you should not start advertising your game until 50-60% of your demo is complete. Why? As I've discussed with some fans of indie VNs, they can name quite a few projects that have been in the "working on the demo" age for 1-2+ years. I've been in the Kickstarter MMO circles. If you, making a single-player experience with little mechanics to balance and polish (aka a visual novel), are taking that long on a demo, I am going to assume the game is not coming out. There are some games I have seen out here that have been in "working on the demo" phase where I haven't seen a single ounce of what the project will look like.

What should I put in my demo? The purpose of a demo is to showcase the mechanics and the vibes and the mechanics of your game. It's a demonstration. In my last post, I pointed to the Dead Space 2 demo that was showcased at E3 (RIP), that takes place about 2 hours into the story and shows how enemies are defeated, some animations, bits of the story, etc. Usually, because it's less about mechanics and more about vibes, visual novel demos showcase a certain percentage of the full thing (5-10%.) Can you showcase the vibe of the game here and what players should expect? If not, show off another portion.

How long should I work on my demo? Before, I said 3-4 months. That can be true, that can also not be true. Think about how long the demo takes you in proportion to how long the actual game should take you. Don't put too much effort. The demo is to showcase the vibe. It's to see how much the public and fans may enjoy the game.

My game is 18+, what should I do? Make a splash screen when the game is downloaded to let players know your game is 18+. If it's going to contain sexual content, you can hide it with itch.io's adult content filter. Write it on the page itself that your game is for adults only. Don't put your demo behind a paywall. This is genuinely ridiculous. The purpose of a demo is to showcase what a game is like before a player purchases it. That defeats the point of a demo. I've seen this happen, and it discourages players from approaching, especially because most demos never make it past the demo phase. So...I'm paying you $10 for 2-3k words of a game that may never come out?

Should I make a social media for my game? YES! Go for it. These anchors are how people will find your game. Make a Tumblr and open that ask box. Make a Twitter. Go to BluSky. Advertising is not bad. Some YouTubers even take e-mail suggestions from developers. Feel free to shoot your shot. The worst they can do is not respond.

HOW TO SET UP YOUR ITCH.IO PAGE:

Getting your itch.io to a presentable state can be very challenging! There's many ways to do it. I highly recommend using this page image guide for learning how to size your images to make your page pop!

Itch.io themselves has suggested to not publish a page until the game or demo is released. You can make the page and keep it as a draft, but do not publish it until you're ready!

Your cover image is the image that will appear in the search of the website, on any front pages, in collections, and on your profile. What have I seen that works? Key art of one of the characters up close and the title of the game! If you can make it a .GIF, do it! Bitches love .GIFs!

Itch.io recommends 3-5 screenshots on your page. I recommend 1 of these 5 be a .GIF that shows how gameplay feels. This is effective, even for visual novels!

Write a 3-5 sentence summary about your game for the description. What is your story about? What is the draw?

DO NOT BE ONE OF THOSE PEOPLE WHO IS GOING TO SAY "This is not like other visual novels. It doesn't have that cheesy this or that or-" No one cares. Genuinely. You're putting down other games in your genre and elevating yourself to the pompous level.

TAG YOUR GAME! itch.io gives you a list of tags to choose from when you go to tag. DON'T USE THIS! Try to go for more specific tags. Arimia has a very good guide on how to use itch.io's tagging system to your advantage.

GENERAL GAME MAKING ADVICE

SCOPE KNIFE IS SUPER USEFUL! Everyone makes games that are way over their workload. It's okay to cut out features and add them later. Prioritize making a finished game before hitting those stretch goals.

PLAN, PLAN, PLAN! Writing outlines is super helpful. I use Twine for my outlines, because you can connect your passages together and make really well-thought webs.

IT'S OKAY TO ASK FOR HELP! Whether it's from friends, professionals, or anything in-between. They can help with assets, editing, etc.

HONE YOUR SKILLS OUTSIDE OF GAMES! Write some poetry. Do some sketches everyday. Improve on your craft to improve your games

MUSIC IS HARD. THERE ARE RESOURCES. Most of us aren't musicians. That's okay. Make sure the music you get for your game is allowed to be used. You can use anything non-commercial if your game will not cost money or donations. I try to do songs in the public domain or free to use overall with credit if I don't have a musician. Consult the Creative Commons website if you're unsure how you're supposed to use a certain piece of music. If you don't use the right stuff, not only can it put you in legal trouble, but it can put streamers in hot water if they play your game and they can't upload the video because music is copyrighted.

PLEASE, DO SOMETHING ABOUT YOUR UI. Wanna know an easy way to get your game to look more professional? Edit the damn UI for your game. Make a new textbox, even if it's just a black box. Change the font. Eventually, players recognize the defaults and patterns of games made in certain engines and may attribute a lack of UI changes to a developer being lazy. It doesn't take very long to change the colors around and move text! Please do it to add a little pop to your game.

DEADLINES ARE AWESOME. Not everyone works well under pressure, but if you give yourself an infinite amount of time to make something, it'll never get done. Set goals for yourself for how much you can work on something.

IF YOU HAVE TO GIVE UP, GIVE UP. Making things is hard, especially long-term. Emergencies happen, jobs happen, life happens. Let your fans know that a project isn't happening anymore. Don't leave them in the dark. You don't need to tell strangers your medical history or anything, but transparency + honesty are really hot traits. You should use those in your creative work. This is one reason why I advocate for not publishing or advertising things until you know it's stable.

SHOWCASING YOUR CONTENT

People love to see WIPs for games! This is what the devlog is good for! A devlog is a post where a developer talks about and showcases some things happening in the game? What can you add to your dev log?

PERCENTAGES! How much of the artwork is done? How much of this character's route is done?

SNEAK PEEKS AT ARTWORK AND SPRITES!

GIFS! GIRLS LOVE GIFS!

Anything else to showcase your game's content! Posting consistent updates retains and even gains a fan's attention for your work.

RUNNING YOUR TUMBLR

You've joined us, and you've made a Tumblr for your blog! Link it on the itch.io page, so people can come find you after playing your awesome demo!

Do I have to respond to every ask? No. It's your blog. Delete whatever asks you want.

I got a hate comment! What do I do? Delete it and move on. I have a more detailed section on hate below.

I want to interact with [blog]! How do I do that? Reach out to the devs for silly little collabs. If you come onto a developer slightly headstrong, they might feel you are being abrasive or using them for content.

If people make fan content, interact with it! Encourage it! Reblog it. Show your love.

OTHER IMPORTANT THINGS

PROFESSIONALISM IS KEY. These may be pet projects, but you want to appear some level of professional on your actual itch.io page.

Being dismissive of player and fan complaints or criticisms will make you appear childish.

If your game is broken, fix it. I have been told by some amateur developers to ignore game-breaking bugs. It does not make me, a player, want to engage with your content. It seems messy and unfinished.

With the above point, it's 100% okay to have bugs and errors upon release. Every developer and their brood mother has. To decrease these issues, get playtesters. Friends can play your games, spot any errors, and help you point out things that can be improved upon. I recommend having playtesters at every stage of development.

Make sure your game runs before you publish it. Please.

You can still be silly and giddy! There's no reason to not be, especially when you get positive comments! The point of this is to not be outright rude to potential players and fans.

IGNORE HATE COMMENTS. In this case, a hate comment is a statement that contains no constructive criticism and are only here to be insulting or malicious. People are going to leave you with actual piles of dog shit in your ask box. They are trying to provoke you. Giving hate comments any attention, even if you're there to "clap back" proves that they got to you, even if you don't take the hate to heart. They will continue to pester you. Delete any hate comments and ignore them completely. Laugh about them with friends in a private setting, sure.

THINK BEFORE YOU REFERENCE! I know one big thing in this community is adding references to other games in yours, such as plushies of other characters or putting them on posters. The best thing you can do it ask the developer before adding this. How would you feel if some random person you've never met put your character in a video game? Most of us would feel weird and potentially violated. Open communication with devs is awesome. I am usually okay with it as long as someone asks for permission.

As a complete aside, I prefer more tasteful references to other games as opposed to 523482346 plushies and posters. These have been slightly overdone. Why not theme a candy after another game's character? Maybe your characters know each other.

OTHER RESOURCES I RECOMMEND

Devtalk is a server dedicated to independent visual novel creators. You can find jobs, resources, advice, talks, and, like, everything there! Devtalk is super useful. Everyone in there is so cool. They have a really great and comprehensive list of resources that I could not even begin to cover.

Visual Novel Design is a great YouTuber. No other words, check the guy out!

Ren'py and whatever other engine you're using has documentation that's super useful to follow.

Arimia not only has amazing VN resources, especially for marketing, but she also just has? Amazing games that you should check out?

And for a shameless self plug, I'm the lead of Sacred Veins, a collective of devs creating narrative games, whether it be horror, humor, romance, or everything in-between. Come hang out with us!

#visual novels #game development

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befemininenow · 1 month

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My coming out as a trans lesbian. (A message to my followers.)

Yes, everyone. I am "gay", or should I say, I'm a lesbian.

This may come as a shock to some of you since I would talk about "hot men" and even make captions about attracting hunks and whatnot. If you notice an absurd amount of those kind of captions surfacing this past week until now, that's because I was dealing with comphet, short for compulsive heterosexuality. In reality, I do not like men nor am I attracted to masculinity.

Why until now? One, it’s because I wanted to wait for the right time to come out and it was coincidentally on Lesbian Visibility Day. Two, it’s something I've been questioning ever since I found out I was trans. This didn’t happen in a day or two. It’s been years and I would have thought I was just pansexual. However, I was not sure whether I genuinely liked boys or if I just liked their validation. It turns out it's only the latter and I was questioning whether I was really gay or just gynosexual. I admit that getting positive reception from them turned me on and I could see the kindness and affection they displayed towards other women (something that really made me euphoric). But the moment you would place me next them for more, say, intimacy (I'm trying to keep it PG), I felt that spark turn off. Don't even get me started when they're bare or worse, send me D-picks (it's so nasty).

Now, I've never did any of that IRL. But, I've tried to interact with them through social sites. Not just in Tumblr, but in other sites like Grindr. If you ever think of creating a Grindr to meet, don't bother. It's hot garbage! All of them were chasers and not a single one was attractive. Only one "guy" seemed to be "cute"; it was a femboy, who was commencing their transition into a woman. Those were the only men I thought I was attracted to, but the reality is: I was only attracted to their femininity, but not their body or intimacy. Femboys are still men and I'm not attracted to men.

That got me questioning: Am I really only liking people for their femininity or do I genuinely only like girls? To make a long story short, I've never felt so much better than imagining myself being the lovely girl... of another girl! I always loved women as a guy, but now that I'm about to transition, being into women as a girl feels so right for me! No more comphet for me!

I know this is not the norm on these kind of blogs as the majority tend to be attracted to masculinity. However, I do want to say that even trans lesbians exist on the feminization scene. That leads me to tell all of you for the next update: You won't be seeing anymore new straight trans girl captions after the first few days of the next month. That's why you saw those kind of captions bombard my blog these past few days. It's just my way of saying "Let me just get it done with". I'm actually glad you enjoyed them, but I just don't feel any connection to those kind of captions anymore. I'll try to upload them when I can since I've been busier than usual.

Anyways, I'm happy you read this very long post. Even if you're not a lesbian, I hope this note at least gives you an insight on not keeping your true feelings locked any longer. Everyone deserves to be themselves. You should too.

Sincerely, Nikki.

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respectthepetty · 17 days

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Pride Petty Watch

Long story short, I owe the BL gods, so I'll be watching TWO series from my Petty List during the month of June. This list includes shows I haven't watched for purely petty reasons, so I'm asking the crowd to pick the two shows I will watch from all the MAME series, some censored Chinese bromances, a few sexual tension-filled Korean bromances, and one wild card.

I'm making my first ever poll, so whichever two series get the highest numbers will be the two I watch. And for all the kind people in the crowd, this is not the time to think about me. Pick your favorite. And for all the people who I annoy on the daily with my wild ass takes that piss you off, pick TharnType. But there is a possibility of a secret thirteenth option that would hurt me much worse . . .

The petty ass reasons are below the poll.

Disclaimer: If you're going to read the petty ass reasons, I need you to understand these are PETTY ASS REASONS, so don't try to hit me with 2,000 words about why me not watching censored bromances is a problem or why me not liking your fave hurts your feelings. Nah. Pick a show!

MAME

Love By Chance

This show came out at the end of 2018, and I watched the first episode, maybe first two, and thought it was boring. Then, in 2019, I saw a GIF of the locker scene, so I recommitted. I made it past the first episode just when the PerthSaint drama started spilling out everywhere, so I chucked the deuces and haven't returned since.

TharnType

For some reason, I couldn't find the first episode when it aired. Then, I found out how the first episode ended. Then, I found out about Type's past. Then, I just kept finding out more awful stuff until eventually the MewGulf shit finally hit the fan, and I was still reeling from the PerthSaint drama (and the emerging ZeeSaint chaos). At this point, I've built this show up so much that I'm afraid to see what it is actually about.

Don't Say No

A story of another GIF of a locker room scene sucking me in! After the first two MAME pairs blew up, I believed her shows were cursed, so I opted out of watching this one even though I thought it would be the one to vibe with me the most. But the biggest reason was because the main characters came from TharnType, so I felt like I would have to watch TharnType to understand this show, which was a big hell nah.

Love in the Air

I watched this through mutuals on my dash, so I feel like I did watch it. It is also the highest rated MAME series, so I had faith in it. However, when I found out about Sky's past, TharnType's ghost popped back up, and I realized this demon of a show is gonna haunt me in every MAME series.

The Wedding Plan

Y'all hated one of the leads so much while it was airing that I now hate him, and I don't think I can let that go, so I'm coming in with pre-hate and TharnType's ghost, but on top of that, some of y'all said it was boring. But what is boring in a MAME series? Consent? Not kidnapping someone? I never got answers, so I'm very conflicted about this show.

Censored Chinese

The Untamed

It's color coded, but FIFTY FUCKING EPISODES! What is this shit? Grey's Anatomy? The fuck! Second, once China pulled Addicted, I was holding grudges for life because it crossed from entertainment censorship into real-world oppression, so I could not bring myself to support media from a country that openly discriminates against the queers when I live in America where our highest court is just one Supreme Court Justice away from making us all live in the damn Mojo Dojo Casa House.

Word of Honor

It's color coded, but THIRTY-SIX FUCKING EPISODES! What is this shit? Supernatural?! The fuck! Second, I don't know the difference between this and The Untamed. Both are color-coded, one of them has a lot of uncles (?), one of them has awful facial hair, and they all have pretty outfits. Every time someone makes a reference about these shows, I just nod the same way I do when people mention Star Wars because none of it makes sense.

Guardian

I spent two years believing Killer and Healer was Guardian. I haven't watched either, but I thought they were the same show. Honestly, if this show wins, I might just watch Killer and Healer because I will forget they are not the same show. Don't they both solve cases? And because it's China, past lives must be involved, no? I'm looking at their MDLs as I write this, and I'm still not convinced they are different.

Stay with Me

It's color coded, but I know how it ends, and word on the street is that IS the ending since a second season seems unlikely. China couldn't just let me be hurt over Addicted, the original. No. Gotta hurt me again with Addicted, the remake. Rude af.

The Spirealm

First off, SEVENTY-EIGHT FUCKING EPISODES! What is this shit? Law & Order: SVU?! The fuck! I know how this ends, and it ain't happy! I don't care how people are trying to spin it, so to sit through SEVENTY-EIGHT DAMN EPISODES just for that ending already has me irate. And don't try telling me Viki combined episodes so it's only thirty-four. That's still a lot. However, everybody who has watched it says it's phenomenal, so is the pain worth it or are these people all lying so they convince themselves it was worth it?

Korean Bromance

Beyond Evil

With most Korean dramas, I feel like I missing something important. Like some part of the story does not click with me and I stay lost for the rest of the show. I suck it up for the queers, but the not-queers-but-it-is-queer shows . . . nah, and especially one about cops . . . (-_-). Also, The Worst of Evil just showed, and it was another reminder that I need these cops to quit their jobs and just screw each other. Embrace "Be Gay. Do Crime"

The Devil Judge

I know enough about Kpop to know GOT7 would not let one of its members kiss a man in this show. I looked at those GIFs of Jeff Satur and Jackson Wang on their show knowing damn well that if Wang got too close to Satur, an entire management team would have ascended from hell and kidnapped both of them, so the promo for this show was so wild because it felt queerbait-adjacent, and I was salty about it.

WILD CARD!

This option will be automatically unlocked IF this stupid little poll gets 216 votes, so I have high hopes this will not happen since I ain't that popular and I hate this wild card which is . . .

SOTUS

This show is my original TharnType. It came out in 2016. I watched it live. I watched the sequel. I remember neither. New was in it? Off was in it?! WHAT?! I have no memory of this show except Krist wiping his mouth, and I have carried that with me for eight damn years. I loved Be My Favorite, so I thought I moved past whatever strange grudge I was holding against this man who doesn't know I exist nor care, but then I saw that trailer for The Ex-Morning, and unlike Elsa, I can't let this shit go, so I'm willing to play Jumanji and go back into the jungle to finish this once and all.

So what it's gonna be, mi gente. Which demons am I facing for Pride and what shows do I get to stay petty about? Help me decide!

#Pride Petty Watch #it's time #help me decide which shows I'm watching #may the best demon win!#a promise is a promise #my blessings came quick #so I will not upset the BL Gods #I must pay them what I owe them #it is time

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anna-hawk · 2 months

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Dexterity

Frank Castle x F!Reader

Summary: You're having some quality time on your own when Frank pays you an unexpected visit.

Explicit 🔞 • WC: 4,1k

Tags and warnings: masturbation, finger fucking, teasing, praise kink, hand & finger kink, dirty talk

Always time for Coffee series

⚠️ If you follow me on AO3, this is NOT a new fic! ⚠️

A/N: This month will mark five years since I posted my very first Frank x Reader fic. I made a small post for the series a few years back, but never a dedicated one for the first ever fic. After the news and pics of getting Frank back today, even if it's only for a small role, I was thinking back to the time I got first inspired to write and actually post something for once. It's been quite the journey since then and this series has now 16 parts, but most importantly, this fic played a big part in me joining the beautiful fandom that I've been a part of these past 4 years and getting me to meet incredible people. So I figured, let's be nostalgic and officially post it on here too.

Ever since meeting Frank Castle, you’ve been obsessed with his hands.

You know they have killed numerous people and could do cruel things to the ones deserving it, but you also know how kind and gentle they can be. When he would come to your shop as Pete, you’d seen how he would talk to one of your employees' kid, the boy having always had a short fuse, and manage to calm the boy down by simply putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. The couple of times when he’d handled the fragile elements of your ice cream maker while repairing it with those deft hands had also shown how gentle they could be.

Yeah, you really have a thing for his hands and the guy himself.

The first time you'd met him, you'd met Pete Castiglione the construction worker, who’d been visiting your Café for the first time. You had followed the whole Punisher debacle on TV and had been very intrigued by the man’s story. Yet even though you'd thought that Pete looked familiar, it had taken you a few weeks of him coming in every other day and helping you out with an electrical problem, to realize who had actually been hiding under all this wild hair and beard. That had been the first time you had come into contact with his hands, too. He had taken off his baseball cap, looked at you to ask where the problem was while standing really close to you, and something in his expression had finally made it click inside you. You'd breathed out, “Frank Castle,” in stunned realization a moment later. In the next second, he'd had you by your throat and against the opposite wall, asking who’d sent you. You had been so startled that you’d just started laughing at the absurdity of you being able to hurt him. Okay, so maybe not really laughed as much as choked, since he’d had his fingers squeezing rather hard around your windpipe. But you'd managed to wheeze out your thoughts, and he'd released you enough for you to tell him why and how you had recognized him. He’d deemed you trustworthy enough, apparently, because he'd let go of you and apologized for overreacting.

You had promised him that you would never tell anyone about him that same evening.

As weeks passed, and he’d still come by your Café, you'd managed to build a rather close friendship. After a while, though, you'd noticed that he was coming by less and less until he stopped coming altogether, making you worried. Finally, after the day everyone had found out that Frank Castle was still alive through live TV, he'd come to your shop when you were closing. You had been even more scared for him since the news and beyond relieved to see him unscathed. You had been touched to learn that he’d wanted to make sure that no one had found out that you knew about him and come to hurt you to get to him. He'd also told you that he would have to lie low for a while. You'd suggested that he should come to your place and hide there. He had declined, too worried about what could happen to you. Still, as you'd accepted his concern, you'd told him that he could come to yours whenever he needed to, no matter the time of the day or the night. You had never been more glad about giving him your address because weeks later, he had come to hide for the night and had done so several nights until the whole thing with Billy Russo had been over.

Nowadays, he still shows up every now and again. Mostly nights because he has some business to take care of, or just to say hi. You both grab a drink (mostly coffee) and chat. You enjoy his company a lot. Okay, more than a lot. You’ve had a thing for the Punisher even before meeting Frank, but since knowing the man himself, you couldn’t help being attracted to Frank and his beautiful large hands and agile fingers. Among other things. You don't know where he stands with romantic or even only physical relationships considering his past, but you do kind of flirt with one another. You know that Frank likes you a lot; otherwise he wouldn’t come to see you regularly. But even if you want him, badly, you feel that it’s more like bantering to him and nothing more.

That doesn’t stop you from dreaming or fantasizing about him and the filthy things that you’d love him to do to you or you to him, though. And that's actually exactly what you’re doing right now. You’re lying on your bed, the sheets tangled around your legs, one hand inside your sleeping shorts while your breaths come harder and faster. You’ve been teasing yourself for what feels like an hour, fingers alternating between circling your clit languidly and pushing three deep into you to mimic the size of two of his, getting yourself closer and closer to one spectacular orgasm. You’ve got your eyes closed, face flushed, bottom lip between your teeth, while your middle finger is rubbing faster and faster over your slippery clit. Harsh breaths leave you as you picture Frank spreading you wide with his fingers and whispering dirty nothings into your ear. You’re right there, on the brink, ready to fall, when there’s a resounding knock at your door.

You yelp in surprise and flinch so hard that you nearly hit yourself in the face with how fast you remove your hand from between your legs. You’re trying to get your bearings back, your body still trembling from being strung high for so long and not getting what it wants, when there is another knock. You groan in frustration and get up on wobbly legs to go check on who wants to see you so badly at that time of night. You look through the peephole and gasp when you see Frank’s face. He'd been here only last week, and he usually shows up only once a month at best, so you’re completely thrown when you open your door to the smirking man.

“Hey, Sweetheart,” he greets in his signature gruff and deep voice, upper body pressed lazily against the door jamb.

He’s looking calm and carrying no signs of a recent fight. Meaning that this isn’t an emergency call. Good. He’s wearing dark jeans and a charcoal Henley with his usual combat boots, three days worth of stubble on his face. He looks mouthwatering, and you valiantly try not to let anything show on your face.

“Was in the neighborhood visitin' Curtis and thought I could come check on you too. Sorry it’s so late,” he continues, confirming your earlier thoughts on there being no immediate danger.

“You’ve come by way later, Frank,” you remind him with a snort and motion for him to follow you inside.

You notice that your voice came out a bit strained, and hope that he doesn’t see how your knees are still shaking after the near orgasm and the effect his unexpected presence has on you. Well, turns out that you’re out of luck.

“You okay there?” He asks, as he follows you into the kitchen.

You groan inside, of course he noticed. You still try to play it off.

“What? Of course, I’m okay.” You hate how your laugh sounds off. You’re usually better at faking stuff like that.

“Yeah?” he says, coming to stand right before you to give you a once over. “'cause you’re all flushed and breathin' kinda hard.” He even lifts one hand to feel your temperature, but you dodge it and turn to the sink, reaching over it to get two coffee mugs out of a cupboard. Anything to avoid him see you blush even more.

“I’m fine, Frank, don’t worry… Coffee?” You desperately hope that he’s going to let it go. You need to put yourself back together and slow your breathing.

“Can never refuse your coffee.”

You breathe a small sigh of relief when he seems to accept your answer and smile at how fond he sounds of your coffee making skills. You’re about to reach for the coffee beans when he says, “Seriously, though, am I makin' you this nervous or what's goin' on?”

You put your hands back down and groan in defeat, hanging your head.

“Could you just let it go, Frank? Please?”

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, and you don’t turn around to look at him while you wait.

“Did I interrupt somethin'?” He finally says, amusement clear in his voice. Damn him and his perceptiveness.

You hide your face in your hands and whimper in embarrassment.

“Oh God, just shut up, Frank!” Your voice is muffled by your hands. He barks out a laugh, making you lower your hands again. “You’re such a jerk.”

“Hey, hey, `s okay Sweetheart, there’s nothin' to be embarrassed about,” he tells you gently, though you can tell that he’s still grinning, the bastard.

“Yes well…” You still refuse to turn around, even though you can hear him move closer behind you.

“'could always show me, y'know,” he says, and even though the words hit you to the core because the thought alone sends a new wave of deep arousal through you, you can’t place his tone.

That's why you do the only thing that comes to mind and gasp, turning around to backhand him in the chest and play into the joke.

“Oh, fuck you, asshole.”

You meet his eyes and see that there’s something there, lying just under the teasing glint. You suck in a breath, holding it in, while your heart beats a nervous tattoo against your rib cage.

“Or… I could help 'course,” he finally says, voice low, after what feels like minutes and not seconds, his piercing eyes never leaving yours.

You stare at him, still barely daring to breathe. The idea of him helping you out nearly sends you to your knees. Eventually, you exhale in a snort because come on, he doesn’t mean it, and go back to facing the counter, taking the coffee beans out of the cupboard.

“Yeah, right… Let’s get back to that coffee, yeah?” Bonus points for sounding offhand.

You hear him taking another step and then see his hands coming to rest on the counter, one on each side of you, effectively caging you in. His voice is a rough whisper against your left ear, making you gasp.

“Is that a no?”

Your hands, now inches apart from Frank’s, are gripping the marble beneath them, hard. You close your eyes and swallow.

“Don’t play games with me, Frank.” Your voice goes deeper and colder in warning. You might not expect anything romantic-wise from him, but you won’t be made a fool of.

“‘m not playin', Baby.”

To confirm his words, he glides his nose along your nape and bites you lightly on the juncture between neck and shoulder.

You moan, all need. That nickname. He's never used it before, but it does something to you. Babe you’ve never liked. But Baby? The way Frank says it, just gets to you. You incline your head to the side, a silent surrender, and feel him grin against your skin. Your eyes are closed so that you don’t see his right hand leave the counter, but feel it settle on your hip and slowly glide down your thigh to the hem of your shorts. To your dismay, his mouth leaves your neck.

“Spread your legs for me, Sweetheart,” he rumbles into your ear.

You oblige instantly, parting your legs and leaning slightly forward to accommodate him. Frank hums in approval. You can feel his fingers on your skin now, just beneath the hem of your shorts, slowly making their way under your right butt cheek and to your center, the touch light and measured. How is it that he's barely touching you and making your breathing speed up again? You try to relax your hands because you’re still gripping the hard kitchen surface like crazy; anything to anchor you. But Frank chooses that moment to push the short’s to the side, hooking it between your ass cheeks and the left side of your outer lips, to grant him easier access. One large finger slides through your still wet folds. One lazy pass through your slit and up to your clit, and your hands lock into place again, a harsh gasp leaving your mouth.

“Shit, already so fuckin’ wet, huh? Guess I did interrupt somethin' good.”

You say nothing, you can’t right now.

Frank keeps up his slow and torturous pace, sometimes staying over your clit and circling it with a featherlight touch that has you nearly screaming in frustration. You try to get a bit more pressure by pushing down on his finger every time he does this, but he just goes back to teasing your slit. Your arms are trembling from the strain, and you murmur a nearly silent plea for more. He seems to hear you though because he chuckles kindly and applies enough pressure for you to moan in satisfaction for a few seconds, before he stops again, too soon. When you fantasize about him, you usually picture him as the teasing kind of lover, but your imagination could never have reached this level.

“Tell me… What you been thinkin' about earlier?”

You’re kind of put out to hear that his voice is still steady, so you decide on the truth. In for a penny and all that.

“You,” you breathe softly.

His movements stop, and you’re satisfied with his reaction, when you realize that you might have overshared. His hand is moving again a moment later, and he growls deep in his throat. He presses his chest to your back, left hand coming up from the counter to grab your jaw and pull it to the side to press biting kisses into your neck and shoulder, making you keen.

“Me, huh? Fuck, now I really want ya to show me sometime…,” he pants roughly into your neck, index finger rubbing tighter and harder over you. “And what was I doin’?”

You have to concentrate to answer him, the pressure on your clit so delicious now. Your voice ends up breaking on each word.

“Something… like… that…”

“Something?”

“Finger-fucking… me.”

He inhales sharply, and you feel him adjust his position behind you, his clothed erection brushing against your ass for a second.

“Something like that?”

Two of his large fingers plunge deep into you, filling you to the brim. You cry out in bliss and go up on your tiptoes for a second as your body rises. Your back bows backward, resulting in your head coming to rest on his shoulder, while your eyes close, and you catch your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Fuck, you feel so good for me, Baby,” he groans into your temple. He withdraws slightly before pushing back all the way in, setting a steady rhythm as the way his name keeps falling from your lips keeps him going.

The hand on your jaw slackens after a while and travels down your neck, over your collarbone and a covered nipple. He’s stroking down your belly and to the junction of your thighs before he finally stops directly over your clit. He rolls it between index and thumb with just the right amount of too much and not enough pressure, or flicks quickly over it repeatedly to keep you on your toes and not know what to expect next. The rhythm of his two hands are completely different. Where his left hand is teasing you slowly but mercilessly, his right hand still has two fingers fucking you fast and deep, making you whimper brokenly. His fingers feel absolutely incredible, yet you know that it’s to keep you on the edge of release. You love and hate it at the same time. The dual sensation has you removing your head from his shoulder to take your weight with your hands on the counter again, leaning forward a bit more to push your ass out and give him even better access.

Frank grunts his approval and keeps up the pace. You feel him resting his forehead on the nape of your neck.

“Holy shit, girl, look at ya takin' my fingers so perfectly,” he says gruffly. You squeeze down on said fingers at the praise, resulting in a groan of appreciation from him.

Eventually, no matter how long he’d intended to keep you on the brink, you’ve been strung so high for so long, that your orgasm is building inexorably, your body ready to crash back down again. His continuous praise is speeding it up as well. Your legs start to shake and a light sheen of sweat is covering your skin. Your harsh breaths are intermingled with moans and gasps of please mores and yesyesyes.

“Frank, please,” you beg one last time. “Please!”

“I gotcha, Sweetheart,” Frank answers finally and starts upping his pace on your clit.

“Yes!” you hiss, elated.

But Frank is apparently not completely done with you because he removes his two fingers from inside you, only to push back but with a third one, this time. You can only cry out in surprise and deep pleasure as he gives you half a second to adjust, before he starts an intense rhythm again. You’ve never felt this full with only fingers, and you can now feel as your release starts curling hotter and tighter in your belly.

“F-f-f-frank, I’m so, so close,” you manage to breathe out.

Frank keeps a litany of words spilling out of his mouth against your neck, “So fuckin' perfect for me” and, “Takin' me so beautifully”.

Suddenly, you're right there again, just like before, ready to take the leap. You feel the shivers running through your whole body and centering where Frank is rubbing tighter and tighter circles. Frank lifts his head from yours and growls deeply into your ear. “Now come for me, Baby. Come on my fingers.”

“Oh fuck, Frank!” You mewl, high-pitched, and that’s it. Everything in you snaps at his words. The intensity of this so long to come orgasm hits you like a freight train driven by Frank Castle. Your body curves back against his, your head back on his shoulder, facing his neck. Your hold on the kitchen worktop becomes deadly again after having slackened somewhat, and you cry out in pure, unadulterated bliss. You dimly feel Frank stopping the fingers inside you and taking them out to circle your waist and push you even more back against him. His focus is on his left hand, index finger still stroking your bud with intense precision, prolonging your release.

As you’re slowly coming down, your body begins to tremble and Frank tightens his hold on you to prevent your knees from giving out on you. You finally release the worktop, fingers a bit stiff, and put them over Frank’s arm to hold on to. His finger hasn’t stop working you, though, and while it’s sending you nice aftershocks, which have you jerking and gasping against him, you finally reach down with one hand to grab his wrist to stop his movements and rest it against your waist with the other.

“Too much,” you mumble into his throat.

You stand like that for a while, both not saying anything while you try to get your breathing back under control. As the seconds trickle by, and you process the last fifteen minutes, you can’t help the laugh that bubbles up and escapes your lips.

“What?” Frank asks, and you can hear the amusement in his voice.

“That was so not what I was expecting from your visit… Not that I mind, of course,” you grin, all relaxed limbs and all.

Frank chuckles, “‘m a man full of surprises.”

You reach down to tug at your shorts and make yourself presentable again, and snicker.

“That you are,” you say and turn around in his arms to look at him, your hands coming to rest on his strong chest.

Your heart misses a beat when you see his face. He’s a bit flushed, and he’s still breathing rather deeply, but it’s his eyes that capture your full attention. They are still dark with arousal, the gaze intense and fixed on yours. Frank’s lips break out in a smirk as he catches you staring. You swallow and clear your throat as you finally take in the hard outline of his dick against your body. You’re about to open your mouth to inquire about it, but he beats you to it.

“Don’ worry ‘bout it, Sweetheart.”

“But-”

“‘m good,” he cuts in again, kissing your temple to take the sting out of his rebuttal before letting go of you.

You stay quiet and lean back against the counter as you nod vaguely. Frank takes a few steps backwards away from you, one hand coming up to rake through his hair and down his neck in a nervous gesture. He doesn’t look at you, so you decide to break the silence. You’re still floating on your high a bit and don’t want things to get uncomfortable between you two.

“So… coffee?”

You see him take a small breath and look back at you with a smile. His eyes are kind but unreadable, like they so often are when he’s thinking about something.

“Yeah, I’d like that, thanks.”

You smile and get back to grab the things you need, Frank going to sit on the couch. The silence is only broken by the coffee grinder for a small while. Your apartment is one large space with an open kitchen that gives on a big living area. A comfortable couch and a coffee table, that are framed by two armchairs, face a flat screen TV and huge floor to ceiling windows. Your bedroom with en suite bathroom is on the opposite side from the kitchen. You adore this place. From where you’re preparing the two mugs, you only have to turn your head to the left to see Frank sitting on the couch, arms thrown over the back of it, legs spread wide. He stares unblinkingly at the darkness and buildings outside your windows. You bite your lip and sigh softly. Once you’re done, one mug with strong dark coffee for Frank in one hand and in the other one with decaf because you definitely don’t need any more excitement tonight, you make your way over to him.

You walk around the back of the couch to sit at the opposite end, your back resting against the armrest. You extend your hand with Frank’s mug toward him. He blinks down at it for a second before taking the mug. He turns his upper body to face you, and you relax a little more at the half smile, half smirk that he usually wears and that he gives you now.

“Thanks,” he says gratefully and hums in pleasure when he takes his first sip.

“Anytime,” you chuckle warmly. You had been proud to find out that Frank had initially come to your Café because he had heard people talking about the quality of your coffee.

You sit there without saying anything, but this time it’s a comfortable silence, both savoring your drinks.

“So how’s Curtis?” You inquire after several long minutes.

It’s an honest question, but you also want to show Frank that you can still talk like you used to. You’ve never met Curtis, but you’ve heard a lot about him and how he has always been there for Frank. That alone means a lot in your book. You end up talking for a small amount of time, conversation becoming easier, before Frank decides to bid you goodnight. You walk him back to the door, and he envelops you in a hug that you hadn’t been expecting at this point. He kisses you on a temple like he often does, making you smile into his neck fondly before returning the kiss but on one cheek instead.

“Take care,” he rasps into your ear, before letting go of you and opening the door.

“Be careful,” you counter with raised eyebrows and a meaningful look.

Frank chuckles and nods. “I'll see what I can do.”

He walks off to the elevator, which opens for him immediately when he pushes the call button, and steps inside. He lifts a hand in a wave as the doors slide closed in front of him, and then he’s gone.

You close your door and lean against it, heaving a heavy sigh. You don’t really know what to feel right now. You’ve just had one of the most memorable orgasms of your life, but still don’t know where you stand with Frank. If you go back to how things were before tonight, that’s fine with you. You’re kind of afraid that you might have scared him off, but the way he behaved before leaving makes you feel confident enough that you haven’t. The ball is definitely in Frank’s court now. You would have to wait and see.

#frank castle x reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle #reader insert #the punisher #mes fics #always time for coffee series #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle smut #the punisher fanfiction

254 notes · View notes

gigabyte-flare · 1 year

Text

There's No Escape (Part 2)

Part 1

Summary: Just when you start to get comfortable in your new lease on life, your past comes rushing back to chase you down. Literally.

Pairing: yandere!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Word Count: 2.8k

If any of the warnings below trigger you, please kindly pass on this fic

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life; if you feel this way, please go touch grass

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT OR I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL YEET YOU INTO THE GODDAMN SUN. Thank you!

Warnings (may not apply to all parts): Sex, gaslighting, swearing, stalking, acts of violence, blood, dubcon, kidnapping, pet names (baby, doll, angel, sweetheart, etc.), PTSD triggers, unprotected sex, forced breeding, daddy kink, manipulation, oral (m and f receiving), choking, overstimulation, knife play, gunplay, masterbation. Long story short, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. More warnings may be added in the future

Tags: @lipglossanon, @ghostkennedy, @hxllfiredoll, @nexyswrites, @ilookatlater, @shroomietrip (Shoot me a message or an ask if you want to be added to the list!)

A/N: First off, holy shit thank you so much for over 300 notes on Part 1! This community is one of the nicest I've ever been apart of, I appreciate all of you! Again, please excuse any grammatical errors in here. Dinner is officially served!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You had slept like a goddamn rock for the last few nights

They were the first nights in three months where you were able to get a full night’s sleep without getting abruptly woken up to Leon touching you. You recall at first it was fun, he was an absolute monster in bed; unfortunately as time went by you realized he was quite literally a monster. Each night that he was home, his sexual advances became more and more twisted. Especially that one time he made you suck the end of his loaded handgun.

You’ll never forget the sick grin on his face as he watched your helpless expression.

You jolt yourself awake and shake your head, dispelling the awful memory with it. You were safe now, well away from him. You slowly sat up and stretched your arms out over your head and let out a loud yawn. You slip out of bed and put on a pair of slippers before walking out into the kitchen. Becky was standing at the island reading the newspaper and chewing on a piece of toast.

“Mornin’!” says Becky with a mouthful of toast.

You give her a nod in response as you make your way to the fridge. You grab the jug of orange juice and grab a cup from the cabinet to fill. You fill the cup before putting the jug back into the fridge.

“Still no sign of him, right?” Becky asks.

“Thankfully no, he’s definitely back at his apartment by now. Haven’t heard a peep.”

You can only imagine how violent his reaction to you being gone was. He absolutely hated it when things didn’t go exactly as he wanted. That’s fine, he can have his hissy fit in D.C.. You took gradual sips from the orange juice before discarding the empty cup into the sink.

“Got work today?” Becky inquires.

“Yeah.”

Becky was able to secure you a tech support job at a law firm for when you moved into Boston. You were extremely grateful for that. Thankfully you had saved up money prior to Leon forcing you to quit your job in D.C., but that money was starting to wear thin. The job was entertaining from what you gathered in the last couple days. Lawyers were extremely tech illiterate to the point where it was almost impossible not to laugh on the phone.

You go back into your bedroom to get dressed into a polo shirt and a pair of jeans with sneakers. You put your hair up in a ponytail before going into the bathroom to put some light makeup on. Work was extremely close by, you could walk to it, which you decided to do since the weather was so nice. You get into your cubicle and start taking calls.

“Did you charge it last night?”

“Thank you for calling tech support, how can I help you?”

“Hi, yes? My laptop won’t turn on.”

“You know what, no I didn’t. I bet the battery’s dead. Thanks!”“Thank you for calling tech support, how can I help you?”

“My mouse doesn’t work.”

“Is it plugged in?”

“Of course it’s plugged in! I’m not an idiot-- oh… wait… it’s not plugged in. Sorry to bother you.”

“Thank you for calling tech support, how can I help you?”

“Found you, sweetheart.”

Your eyes widen as you hold your breath. This has to be some kind of sick joke. You regain your composure and hang up on the caller; it sounded like Leon but you weren’t 100% sure. You try to track the number they called from, but it came up as an unknown caller. Whoever it was, they were using a burner phone number. The phone rings again immediately and you answer it.

“Who are you and what do you want?!” you scream into your headset.

“Whoa hey, what the hell!? I’m calling because my internet’s not working!” they say, the person clearly being a different caller.

You log out of the call queue to collect yourself. You rub your face into your hands. You hear footsteps walk over to your cube and you look up and find your boss standing there.

“Oh my god… I’m so sorry,” you rub your eyes before continuing, “I just had a prank call. Did you try restarting the router?”

“Oh ok, no worries! No I haven’t, I’ll do that now, thank you miss!”

“Everything alright here? I thought I heard you yell,” your boss asks.

“Yeah sorry, there was a prank caller. I think they were using a burner phone to call in.”

“Ah ok, that doesn’t usually happen here but there’s a first for everything. Definitely take a breather before you log back in, ok?”

You give your boss a nod before he walks away. Before logging back into the queue, you look into the call history. Your stomach drops when you see that the unknown caller called your phone directly, not into the tech support line.

It was just a prank caller, don't psych yourself out, you think to yourself as you close your eyes and take a deep breath.

There was absolutely no way Leon could have found out where you worked that quickly, it had to be a prank.You log back into the tech support queue and finish out your day thankfully with no other prank calls.

Even though your apartment was a 10 minute walk, you decide to order a taxi instead, the prank call still making you anxious. When the taxi driver arrives, you confirm your address for him and he takes you home, the drive takes less than 5 minutes. You thank and pay the driver and quickly enter your apartment.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Leon was thankful that you hadn’t turned around and seen his familiar lifted Jeep Wrangler with tinted windows parked across the street from your apartment as he watched you hurry inside. He turned his attention to the laptop he had open on the passenger’s seat. After a few keystrokes, several camera feeds popped up on the screen.

At some point when you and Becky were both out in the last couple of days, Leon had broken into the apartment and installed several hidden cameras. He enlarged one of the cameras where both you and Becky could be seen standing in the kitchen and enabled the audio.

“Hey! How was your day?” Becky asks.

“Eh, it was alright,” you reply, “I got the creepiest prank call today.”

A smirk began to cross Leon’s lips.

“It wasn’t him, was it?” Becky inquires, the concern evident in her voice.

“No way! There is no way he figured out where I went that fast.”

Leon let out a laugh, “Underestimating me is your first and last mistake, dear.”

“I’m going to take a quick shower. Want me to order pizza when I come back out?” you ask.

“Yeah sure!” Becky replies.

Leon immediately switches the camera feed to one that is inside a vent above the shower. He hears you enter the bathroom and shut the door. As he hears the ruffling of clothes, he begins to undo the belt on his jeans, grasping his hardening cock in his left hand. He sees your arm reach into the shower to turn it on and let it warm up.

If only you knew that you were putting on a personal show just for Leon to enjoy. Picturing your horrified expression only aroused him even more.

Your naked form then came into frame, his cock pulsing in excitement as he began to stroke it vigorously. His eyes were glued to the laptop screen as you lathered soap onto yourself. He began to let out quiet whimpers as he got closer and closer to his release, the whimpers getting progressively louder. Suddenly, with a shudder of his body, he let out a guttural moan and came all over his hand and his jeans. His moment of euphoria was short lived as the disgust of having cum all over himself overtook him. He slammed the laptop shut, grabbed a small towel from the back seat and wiped the cum from his hand and jeans as best as he could before throwing the towel back to the backseat.

His ice cold eyes glare at your apartment door before he starts the engine in his Wrangler, driving off into the Boston night.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

You and Becky decide to go out that weekend into Chinatown to get hot pot. Becky knew of a great restaurant called Shabu Zen, she claimed they had the best hot pot in town. You haven’t had hot pot before, so you were going to have to take her word for it.

You both enter the restaurant and the hostess seats you two in the corner. You sit on the side where your back was to the wall, you never wanted your back exposed, ever. Your waiter comes over and takes your order for drinks, Becky ordered a margarita, you simply just asked for water.

“We got through the first week in Boston together!” Becky exclaims, lifting her glass, “a toast to being Bostonians and no creepy ass ex-boyfriends!”

“Hell fucking yeah, my friend!” you respond, raising your glass of water and clanking it against her margarita.

The waiter comes back over, and you both put in your order of broth and meats that you’ll be having for hot pot. You two make small talk about work before the waiter comes back over a short time later with plates full of different veggies, noodles and meats. Another waiter behind him sets the broth on the burner in the middle of the table and turns the burner on.

“For real though, thank fuck you got out of there when you did, I know you haven’t told me everything that fucking prick did to you but… I’m just glad you’re not dead.” Becky states as she starts piling food into the broth.

“I know… I still need to look up a therapist that I can go to so I can move on. I feel like I close my eyes and his face is the only thing I see.”

Becky scoops out noodles, meat and veggies out from the broth and starts eating, “Who would have thought such a hot dude would turn out to be a fucking psychopath.”

“It’s always the ones you least expect, Becky. I should have seen the red flags,” you say as you also scoop food out from the broth.

Your eyes happen to wander around the restaurant to the other patrons as you slurp up noodles; it was mostly younger people with one older couple seated at the table next to yours. Your eyes settle on a dark corner of the restaurant where you see a man seated by himself. You stop mid bite, your eyes locked on the man. You recognize his short dirty blonde hair immediately. His cobalt eyes burned into your skin. He was even wearing that fitted black shirt that you used to love so much. There is no doubt in your mind, Leon is in the restaurant.

Becky notices your freaked out expression immediately, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You blink a few times to make sure he wasn’t a figment of your imagination. Much to your dismay, he wasn’t. You watch a devilish smirk spread across his lips before he puckers his lips at you.

You suddenly dig your wallet out of your purse, throwing several twenties onto the table before getting up, “we have to go. Now.”

“Wait, what? What’s going on?”

“No time, we need to leave,” you grab Becky by the arm and practically drag her out of the restaurant.

You both bolt onto the sidewalk and you walk briskly down the street towards the depths of Chinatown, still pulling Becky along.

“Are you going to tell me why you just dragged me out of Shabu Zen?”

You look back and see Leon step out of the restaurant; he looks around and quickly spots you and Becky, giving chase.

Becky, seeing your panicked expression, looks back and sees what has you spooked, “Holy fucking shit how did he fucking find you?!”

“I don’t know but we need to lose him, got any ideas?”

“Yeah, let's get to the Orange line. We’ll lose him in the subway system.”

Becky grabs your hand and leads the way running. You occasionally look back, each time your heart sinking as you see Leon’s face in the crowd, running after you. Having a military background, it wouldn’t take him long to catch up.

Thankfully, you both get to the Chinatown stop for Boston’s T subway system and bolt down the stairs.

“Listen to me carefully, it’s going to get awfully confusing so I need you to follow me closely, ok?” Becky says, looking back as she scans her Charlie card and goes through the gate.

“Yeah, got it.”

Becky throws her Charlie card to you. You scan it and get through the gate and catch up to Becky. You turn around just in time to watch Leon vault over the subway gate with the grace of a panther. Thankfully, the next train was just pulling in as you two got to the train platform, you both bolt inside one of the cars and try to cram yourselves into the most crowded car.

“Ok, we need to get off at Downtown Crossing, then we pick up the Red line to Park Street and get on the Green line there. Then, we get off at Government Center which will then loop us back to the Orange line, ok?” Becky explained quietly.

You nod before scanning your eyes through the car, but you can’t tell if Leon’s on the train, you’re just going to have to assume that he is.

“Next stop, Downtown Crossing.” the T PA system called out.

“Ok, here’s our stop, as soon as those doors open, we make a b-line to the Red line to Alewife.”

As if on queue, the doors open and you and Becky practically launch yourselves out of the car, you don’t bother to look back to see if Leon is following you. Becky has a vice grip on your hand as you both get to the train platform for the Red line. Again luck was on your side, the doors for the Alewife train just started to open and you and Becky dove inside one of the cars and, once again, made your way to the most crowded car.

You repeated this same maneuver again at the Park Street stop and again at Government Center. Just like Becky had said, that eventually led back to the Orange line, which you both took back towards Forest Hills, getting off at the Back Bay stop, which thankfully was close to your apartment. You both ascended the stairs to the street level and stopped to take a breather.

“Holy shit I can’t believe that worked, where do you think we lost him?” you ask.

“I don’t know, once we were on the first train in Chinatown, I stopped looking for him.”

“Me too.”

When you both finally could catch your breaths, you proceeded to walk down the street back to your apartment.

Neither of you would be sleeping that night.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

He lost track of you and your friend after getting off at Park Street. He ascended the stairs to the street, kicking a trash can over in frustration. You were so close to being back in his grasp.

And you would have been if it weren’t for that bitch, Becky. He knew that she smuggled you up here away from him, convinced you to leave him. She filled your head with nasty lies about him, she must have, why else would you leave him? He let his anger boil inside him as he walked down the street. He couldn’t help but notice several women gawking at him as he strolled down the street. He winked at some of them, seeing them visibly swoon at him. Oh how he enjoyed toying with their hearts.

It was a small bit of enjoyment he had since the world started to repeatedly fuck him over. First it was his new life in Raccoon City, then Operation Javier, then the incident in Spain with Los Illuminados. It was a couple years after returning from Spain that he met you at a bar in D.C., you had noticed him sitting alone at the bar and walked over and talked to him. It was the first ounce of normalcy he ever felt in his life since he graduated from the Police Academy. When you two started dating, that was when he decided he was never going to lose you, no matter the cost.

Again, his thoughts returned to your friend Becky. She took your princess away from him.

And she was going to pay dearly for it.

Part 3

#there's no escape #gigabyte writes #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #yandere!leon kennedy #yandere!leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader smut

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thatsmzbitchtoyou · 3 months

Text

Masterlist

Started: 2/24/24 Last updated: 5/29/24

MARVEL

Bucky Barnes *One shots Sex Pollen My Alpha

*Series Breaking the Class Ceiling Bucky Barnes is a middle class clerk. He needs to marry well to take care of himself and his father. Y/N Y/L/N is the heir to a millionaire fortune, who is blunt, no-nonsense, flirtatious, and looking for a partner. Everyone is vying for her hand. Can Bucky ever win? **This is set in early 1900s U.S.A., during the Edwardian era with some style changes into the upcoming Art Nouveau period. I've changed history a bit for this. Pretending that America didn't have a full Civil War and trying to create a more optimistic outcome for the purposes of the story. I've also tried to research what the rules for society/socializing were back then, and tweaked some of them. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 **Finished

Pretty Pointy Smile Bucky was born different, and has been judged for it ever since. His father has had enough and sells him to the circus. The acceptance and love of his newfound family, and the beautifully fierce ringmaster, help him realize he’s not the monster everyone else made him out to be. 1 2 3 4 5 **Finished

Sugar Mama Bucky is overworked and struggling to get by. The bills are piling up and he’s consistently in the red with no end in sight. Y/N is a billionaire’s daughter, entrepreneur and philanthropist having a hard time finding true friends or love. She has a proposition for him. 1 2 3 4 5 6 **Finished

Marriage of Convenience Y/N’s father is gone, and he leaves it all to her. But in 1880s Oregon, she can’t own land without a husband. Under the threat of it all being taken away by a land hungry Sheriff, what’s a girl to do with no prospects? Maybe one of the cowboys on the farm can help… 1 2 3 4 5 **Finished

The Temptation Father Barnes is devout, steadfast, and undeterred by flirtatious congregants. So why does this fallen angel tempt him so? You cannot serve two masters. Will he choose God, or his heart? 1 2 3 4 5 6 **Finished

Norsemen & Anglo-Saxons Princess Y/N has a secret that her parents are ashamed of. A conquering Viking chief recognizes the gift she has. Will they be able to bring peace between warring people, and maybe find love along the way? 1 2 3 4 5 **Finished

Stranded Tossed overboard and lost at sea, Bucky washes up on an uninhabited island. Injured, lost and scared, with little to no wilderness training, he fights to survive. But is he really alone? 1 2 3 4**Ongoing!! The Fuck Up Bucky fucked up. A few times. Will his best friend ever be able to forgive him? **Coming soon!!

Naughty Nanny Bucky had a lovechild from a one night stand. He barely even remembered it, and was surprised to find a baby on his doorstep 9 months later. But one look at that little girl and he knew she was his and that he’d die for her. The only problem was, he knew nothing about babies, and being an Avenger meant he couldn’t just drop everything and be a dad full time. Then he found the perfect nanny…or so he thought. **Coming soon!!

Peter Parker *One shots Emotional *Short Series Tasty Peter just wanted to have one night of fun. Then that night of fun almost killed him. Now it won’t stop haunting him. And he’s loving it. 1 2 3 4 **Finished

Steve Rogers *Series My Queen Steve Rogers is the newly inherited Duke of Brooklyn, struggling to fix the mistakes of his parents while enduring an overbearing, matchmaking mother. He has no intention of anything romantic in his future, but will a forced love connection with the Queen change his mind? 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 **Finished

Stucky *Series Omega Steve Rogers wants to move on. He wants to forget Peggy, and dive into the 21st century. But this man of the past doesn’t know how to navigate being an Alpha in a modern world of skittish Omegas. He prides himself on his self control, never wanting to harm or scare them, until something just smells too damn good. And he's not the only one who smells it... **Coming soon!!

Actors

Sebastian Stan *Series A Patient Man Sebastian swore to never fall for another co-star again. Until Y/N drops into his life. 1 2 3 4 5 6 **Finished

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dontaskmemybias · 11 months

Text

Needy

Pairing: Non Idol!Lee Felix x afab reader Request: Yes Theme: First Time. Established Relationship. Contains: Oral sex (f and m), Protected sex, cursing. Word Count: 2,514 Note: MINORS DNI!!! This is a work of fiction and does not portray any of the members irl. Sorry this took so long! I had friends in town then it was my birthday and yeah long story short I've been running around like crazy. I hope you enjoy!

It had been a month since you and Felix had started dating. Everything was amazing, the cuddles, the brownies he would bake you, and the cute kisses he would place all over your face. Felix always made sure you were comfortable with him, you felt like you could really tell him anything, so you told him everything.

Felix knew you were a virgin when you had started dating and he never teased you or made you feel pressured about it, always the gentleman. You had had some heated make out sessions before always initiated by him, but he never pushed it too far. You realized that if you were going to go past that it would be you who had to initiate it.

After a month of dating and a long time before that as friends you decided you were ready. You wanted to have sex with Felix. You had read your fair share of smut and watched porn and whatnot but you were still nervous and not exactly sure how to start it all, so you decided to take your favorite tropes and try them out.

That night you picked out a movie for the two of you to watch (there were some racy scenes you'd hoped would get him going) then you would invite him to spend the night and wear your most revealing nightgown (you had bought it for this occasion but you planned on saying it was 'the only thing you had clean') and then while cuddling in bed you would 'accidentally' rub against him.

The whole plan was perfect really, that was until your smoking hot boyfriend walked in in a pair of grey sweatpants and a tight fitted tank top, his silver hair messily pulled away from his face in a ponytail. You probably looked like a cartoon with your jaw on the floor and drool coming down your chin. Felix just smiled at you like he always did and came into your apartment. Once he was inside and took his shoes off he came over and gave you a tight hug.

"Hello gorgeous." His deep voice drifted into your ear and you shivered. You hoped he would just think you were cold. But Felix wasn't an idiot, he knew exactly what he was doing. He had found your fanfic account where you had read all your smut. He found the note in your phone with a list of your favorite tropes titled 'plan to lose my v-card' (who makes a note for that?!?) So he knew what you had planned for the night, why else would he come over in boy lingerie (grey sweatpants for heavens sake)

He pulled back and pecked your lips lightly, a tiny almost inaudible whimper left you when he pulled away from you.

"Are you hungry? I brought takeout." He looked back at you, frozen in place. You just smiled and nodded, your arousal gathering in your panties. You almost lost it and told him you were hungry for him but you had made a plan and damn it you were going to follow through.

~✨~

You and Felix had eaten dinner and now it was on to phase one of your plan: The movie. The movie was funny, a classic rom-com, but it did have quite a few steamy scenes that you'd hoped Felix would get worked up over.

What you had failed to think about was the fact that you would also get worked up.

It was the second steamy scene of the movie that really had gotten to you. You and Felix were cuddled up on the couch, your head on his shoulder with his hand on your thigh, drawing patterns mindlessly as you both watched the movie. You had your arms wrapped around Felix's middle and your feet tucked underneath you.

The scene that was unfolding on the screen had your face red and your arousal leaking into your panties. The girl on screen was bent over a desk, being pounded into from behind. The man lifted her by her neck until she was flush with his chest and he started rubbing circles onto her clit. This was your biggest fantasy playing out right in front of you and it took everything in you not to press your thighs together.

You didn't notice but your breathing had become a bit heavier, Felix's hand on your thigh gripped a little bit tighter.

Felix had been stealing glances at you through the whole movie but during this scene he couldn't take his eyes off of you. He saw the blush form on your cheeks, your breathing getting heavy, he knew you were thoroughly enjoying the scene.

It was as if your hands had a mind of their own. You didn't mean to move but before you knew it you had brought your hands down and under Felix's shirt, now softly caressing his bare skin.

"Someone is enjoying the movie I see." You snapped your head to face your boyfriend who was devilishly grinning down at you. It took you a second to realize that you were no longer touching a shirt but bare skin under your hands. Your blush deepened as you jumped back and started stammering out an apology.

"Where do you think you're going little one?" Felix moved so he was now towering over you, his hands placed on either side of your head. "Is someone feeling a bit needy?"

Oh god. Fuck the plan. This new side of Felix was doing something to you and if you wanted him before it was nothing compared to how much you wanted him now.

"Maybe." You said it softly, almost a whisper. He was close enough that he heard you but he wanted to have a little fun.

"Sorry beautiful I didn't quite catch that." He leaned in so he was less than an inch from your face now, you could feel his hot breath on your cheeks when he spoke. "You'll have to speak up princess."

A shiver ran through you as you tried to find your voice.

"Yes." Felix wanted to tease you more, he really did, but he was just as needy as you. He thought maybe you had wanted to wait a bit longer to be intimate with him so he had been holding himself back, but after finding the note? The private fanfic account? Not to mention seeing you so hot and bothered and needy for him? God it made his cock throb.

He crashed his lips onto yours and you let out a shameless moan when his hands began to wander. You were shaking with nerves and excitement. Felix felt and pulled back from you, a soft hand came to cup your cheek.

"You okay? You're shaking, am I moving too fast?" Felix's eyes were filled with worry and your heart filled with love for the freckled boy. You reached up and cupped his cheek.

"No, I'm just excited, and maybe a bit nervous?" He smiled warmly down at you and ran his thumb over the apple of your cheek.

"Don't be nervous baby, I'll go slow and walk you through it. How does that sound?" You smiled and nodded your head. Felix leaned down and kissed your nose before sitting up and pulling you with him. He pulled you into his lap and wrapped his arms around you. Then he stood up and carried you to your bedroom where he laid you down on the bed. "Let me know if you want to stop or need a break okay princess?" You smiled and nodded.

Felix leaned down and kissed your lips, then he moved over to you neck kissing and biting until you were squirming under him. He pulled at the hem of your shirt. "May I take this off?"

"Yes 'Lix please." He slowly pulled your shirt off and stared for a brief moment before he went back to work placing kisses all down your chest. His kisses got lower until he was at the hem of your pants. He looked up at you placing one more kiss before hooking his fingers in your pants. "What about these?" He asked, his breath hot on your skin.

"Please." Your voice was a whisper but he had heard you loud and clear. He took his time pulling your pants down and once they were off he ran his hands up and down your bare thighs.

"You are so fucking beautiful Y/N. You have no idea." Before you could speak Felix lowered himself so he was within inches of your clothed core. He took a deep inhale through his nose. "You smell so fucking good too, can I taste?" He said while playing with the lace on the hem of your underwear.

"Yes 'Lixxie please, take me." He smiled before pulling down your panties, taking less time than he had with your pants. You supposed he was also feeling needy at this point.

Every thought left you when he licked a fat stripe up your bare pussy, humming at the taste of you.

"Fuck princess you taste incredible, better than I had imagined." After that he dove in. He wanted to make your first time memorable and enjoyable so he took his time, noting anything that made you cry out louder and doing it over and over again. Your hand came down to gently tug at his hair, your way of telling him he was doing a good job. Felix ate you out like it was his job, making sure you were enjoying it.

" 'Lix fuck I-I'm gonna cum." You moaned out. His efforts doubled as he sent you headfirst into bliss. Licking and sucking you through your orgasm Felix didn't stop until you pulled his hair a little tighter. He finally detached from you and you pulled him up to slam your lips into his.

"Fuck baby the noises you make, I almost lost it down there." Felix looked almost as fucked out as you with his messy hair from you tugging at it.

" 'Lix I need to feel you, please, I want you so bad." You whined at him. Your begging almost made him lose it but he got his shit together again, this was your first time and he wanted to give you everything an more. You leaned over and pulled a condom out of you nightstand, Felix took it from you and placed it between your teeth.

"Hold that for a second baby." It wasn't until he stood up that you realized he still had all his clothes on. He stripped his shirt off and tossed it on the ground then locked eyes with you as he started undoing his belt buckle.

"I'm going to treat you so well baby, just like my princess deserves." He said while pulling his pants down and kicking them across the room. Now standing before you in just his boxers you could fully see the prominent tent he had been pitching since he first tasted you. Your eyes locked onto the little wet patch of precum that was staining the fabric of his boxers as he slowly started to pull them down.

You had seen dicks before in porn but seeing Felix's cock spring free from his boxers was something else entirely. You felt excited and nervous but mostly you felt happy. Giving yourself to Felix felt right.

Felix came back to the bed and held your chin up so the edge of the condom wrapper stayed in your mouth. He tugged and ripped the package open then slid it onto his length.

"Are you ready princess?"

"More than ready 'Lixxie." He smiled and led you to lay back on the bed. He lined himself up with your entrance with one hand and intertwined your fingers with his on the other.

'Tell me if you need me to stop okay baby?" You nodded your head and he leaned down and pecked your lips.

He slowly pushed into you and you moaned at the sensation. You were so wet from cumming earlier that he slid in easily. You remembered friends telling you that their first times hurt but this didn't hurt that much (you attributed it to your dildo thanking your past self for the purchase)

Felix slowly pushed in until he bottomed out and gave you a minute to adjust. "Fuck princess, so tight, so warm." He all but groaned into your neck.

"You can move now 'Lixxie, please move." You moaned. Felix didn't need to be told twice. He started slowly, still holding your hand, his other wrapped around your waist. He began to pick up speed and your moans got louder. You could feel your high approaching again as he rocked into you and tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as he continued to make you feel good.

"Are you okay princess?" Felix noticed your tears and slowed down his movements.

"Yes, just f-feels so -fuck-fucking good 'Lixxie please don't s-stop." you cried out. When he was assured that these were good tears he picked up his pace again, slamming his hips into yours. You were gasping, whining, moaning, trying to tell him how good it felt but you couldn't find the words. When his hand moved from your waist to your clit you knew you wouldn't last long.

"FUCK 'LIX cum- I'm cum-" You couldn't finish your sentence because your second orgasm of the night came barreling into you and you let out the loudest moan of the night. Felix fucked you through it and your clenching walls almost sent him over the edge but he kept it together for you. Once your legs stopped spasming his hips started to faulter.

"Princess I'm close where do you want me?" As if that was a question, you had thought about this for days now.

"My mouth 'Lix, wanna taste you."

He groaned and pulled out of you and pulled the condom off. You opened your mouth and he laid the tip of his dick on your tongue. He started jerking himself but to his surprise you swatted his hand away and too his length into your mouth, jerking what you couldn't fit with your hand.

"Fucking hell princess look at you, sucking my dick s-so -fuck- so fucking well. Look so good with my cock in your mouth." You hummed around him and he let out a low moan.

"S-shit princess I'm cumming!" He groaned and then you felt his warm cum coating the inside of your mouth. You sucked a but more until he was done and then pulled off with a pop. Felix looked down at you and you smirked mischievously before opening your mouth and showing him his load. Felix's eyes went wide when a little bit spilled out of your mouth and onto your tits before you closed your mouth, swallowed, and opened it again to show him you had taken it all.

"Jesus Christ baby where did you learn that?" His face was beet red now and you giggled a bit.

"I read about it."

#skz smut #stray kids smut #felix smut #lee felix smut #stray kids hard hours #stray kids hard thoughts

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jockbroski34 · 5 months

Text

New Blood (Chapter 2)

This is the second half of New Blood. If you haven't already, please read the first part here:

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

--Braden POV--

It’s been two weeks since Jacob changed into a jock. I almost didn’t recognize him at first. He seemed pretty chill when I saw him first, but now he acted like a spitting image of Zach and even started to look the part too. I even heard rumors that they started dating, which was a surprise to me because Zach always came off as straight to me.

It was just like what happened with Bradley. They would start hanging out more and more with Zach, and then the next time you see them, they become freakishly huge and start playing football. I’ve seen it happen twice, but I am certain it has happened before. It wasn’t the first time I saw someone in my class walk in looking like they took steroids overnight, but it was uncommon enough for it to not be a noticeable problem.

Even worse, I know he’s still at it. I’ve seen Zach and “Jake” talking to a guy I know in my class, Charlie. If I had to guess, he’s their next victim, but knowing him, I’m sure he’d be begging to join them. He’s openly gay and he’s always thirsted over the guys on the football team, even preferring my brother “Brad” over me. Zach probably has him wrapped around his finger at this point. Honestly, I felt bad for him for being that desperate. I knew it would be impossible to convince someone that down bad.

One thing became clear to me after the past several months. Zach was obviously getting closer to people in order to convince them to join the football team and become jocks like him. I’ve seen it happen multiple times, and at this point, he’s gone too far. I could try to tell the school about what he has been doing, but without definitive proof, I would just look crazy. The school obviously wouldn’t care anyways because they would benefit from a better football team to put their school’s name on the board.

As far as I know, no one in the school really seems to notice or care about people changing before their very eyes. They are completely oblivious. They don’t even care that they could be the one chosen to be targeted next. I’m basically all on my own here. This has to have been happening for almost a year at this point and I have to do something. I have to stop Zach and the rest of the team from turning these students into meathead jocks.

I began to investigate Zach and the rest of the football team. I went down the roster and made a list of every person who I definitely knew had been turned into a jock. There were a few more than I had expected to be honest. About thirty percent, I believe. These people had all gone through the drastic changes involved with joining the team, including the increased body growth.

There was one person who I specifically wanted to find information on, Zach. I decided to browse his Instagram to find even a hint of any tangible evidence that I could use against him. He had a lot of photos, with most of the recent ones being him showing off his body or partying. I wouldn’t expect much else from a douchebag like him. Although my investigation did not bear much fruit, I did find something interesting. As I scrolled through his old photos, I saw a boy both similar, yet entirely different to the cocky, muscular quarterback I knew. Was he one of the ones that was changed too?

The photo, about two years ago, showed an entirely different Zach. He was certainly still tall for his age, and definitely still taller than I am now. He was more on the skinnier side, however, and his face had softer, more boyish features compared to his more chiseled self. He had a longer hairstyle which contrasted with the short style he was rocking now. He still had the same verdant green eyes, although they had a more innocent look compared to the confidence his current self was full of. If you had shown me this picture without any of the information I know, I would’ve thought this was his cute little brother.

The more I thought about it, the more I started to wonder. How did he do it? Him being one of the earlier guys to transform combined with him being the quarterback and the team captain led me to believe that he had to be one of the first, perhaps being the prototype.

I saw another photo of the old Zach from three years ago. It was him with two older men at a football game, each one of them adorning a jersey to match with the others in the crowded stadium. The man next to Zach bore enough similarities with him that I assumed that he was his father, but the other man’s identity was still a mystery. The face looked familiar however, but I figured it was just a coincidence. Maybe he was an uncle or an old family friend? Either way, I came to the conclusion that Zach was likely always into football even at a young age. I wouldn’t find it surprising that he would want to play football, but anyone with eyes could see that it would be impossible to achieve that kind of body in just two years even with nonstop training and a strict diet. I considered the possibility that steroids could have been involved, but how would he be able to even get his hands on them, let alone supply them to that many people?

I then tried to broaden my perspective a bit, and an interesting theory entered my mind. The football coach would obviously know of the changes, right? He couldn’t just turn a blind eye after some guys just randomly became jocks and wanted to join the team, right? In fact, he would have much to gain by turning his players into the ideal version of a high school football player. Stronger players mean more wins. More wins mean more success for the team and for the school. No wonder why the school doesn’t care. They are directly benefiting from this!

So I decided that I would dig deeper on the coach. Unsurprisingly, he was a former football player and coach, but decided to move to this town about three to four years ago. At the college he went to, he majored in psychology. I found the pair between football and psychology to be a strange fit, with very little overlap. But then I started to think. He obviously knows a lot about the human mind. Maybe that’s why the guys on the team like Bradley and Jacob came out acting like entirely different people. He had to have done something to them subconsciously, perhaps some form of hypnosis or brainwashing. Bradley would often mention things that obviously never happened, so I am sure his memories were tampered with. I would know. I’ve known him my entire life and he never cared about sports before now. Just as I had figured out a hypothesis on how they might have changed mentally, I still didn’t know how their bodies might have changed. I defaulted to my original idea, steroids, but I didn’t know how a high school coach would get steroids for his players. Surely he’s smart enough to want to avoid that scandal.

I remembered the coach’s face. I’ve definitely seen it before at least once at school, but it was also the other man in the photo with Zach! So it seems that the coach knew Zach before he became a jock. I’m guessing he and his father were close? If I’m on the right track, Zach could have been his guinea pig for his experiments, since he would have to be one of the first guys to undergo the jock transformation.

I wrote all of the important evidence I had into a document, but then I heard the front door open. Shit, Brad, no, Bradley came home early from football practice! I quickly saved the document onto my flash drive, and hid it in my pocket. We shared the same computer, so I couldn’t risk him finding it, even though he would probably just look up sports statistics or porn instead. Bradley was seemingly unaware by the time he entered our shared room.

“Hey bro,” Bradley said. “Doing homework already? You’re a much harder worker than me, bro.” The old Bradley would never say bro. And he was arguably a better student than me.

“Yeah,” I responded, sarcastically. I was honestly getting tired of him after all that has been going on. “Not that you would know anything about studying, you dumb brute.” I grabbed my things and left for the living room, not wanting to be anywhere near my changed brother, nor near his sweaty, unwashed clothes that he left on the floor.

“What’s wrong bro?” Bradley followed me, his large feet stomping on the floor with every step. “You not feeling alright? I’m going on a run in a little bit if you want to come with. It’ll help clear your head.” I was fuming at his ignorance. It was at this moment that I burst.

“You are what’s wrong ‘bro’! Ever since you started hanging out with Zach and joined the football team, you’ve been completely unrecognizable! You’re just another jock now!”

“So what? I like being on the team and I like hanging out with the guys.”

“Is that really you in there or is that Zach or Coach doing the talking for you? You were never like this before you met them. I know that they changed you!” I realized I may have said too much.

“I guess they did rub off on me a little, but I did this for me, bro,” I rolled my eyes at the idea that anyone would willingly agree to be transformed into a jock. “I know you and I have grown apart these past couple months, but I just want us to get along again like we used to, bro. No matter what.” He reached out for a hug, but I pushed him away. The man in front of me was not my brother. Besides, he’d probably break a bone or two.

“You are not my ‘bro’! If you want us to be brothers again, you can start by quitting the team. You’re never gonna get anywhere in life by throwing footballs and getting concussions.”

“You’ll never understand, little bro.” Bradley seemed disappointed, and left through the front door, likely going on another one of his runs. I felt a wave of anger and shame rush over me, not just at my foolish brother, but at myself for being unable to connect with him. The rest of the night went by as usual, only we were even more cold towards each other than we were earlier. Dinner was incredibly awkward, with our tension hanging over the dinner table. We avoided eye contact and didn’t even say a word to each other the whole night. As I tried to fall asleep, I knew that we couldn’t keep living like this. Something needed to change.

--Jake POV--

I woke up to the sound of an alarm in Zach’s warm embrace, his toned arms barely wrapped around my new, larger body. His thick legs tangled in between mine like a knot and his 9-inch serpent in his jockstrap pressed against my back. I had slept the night at his place again, but it was pretty common these days now that we were officially a couple. We saw each other almost every day, whether it was at school, practice, the gym, or watching football together on Sunday. The other bros grew a little jealous of us, but it’s a little hard not to be.

I thought about what happened the other day. Memories of the lessons prior were drowned out by the practice, and by me and Zach recruiting the newbie to the team. You see, Zach was not only the team captain and our star quarterback. He was also responsible for recruiting new members to the team and getting people interested in football, and he asked me to help him out, which I obviously agreed to.

Obviously I now know how the recruitment process actually works, seeing as he had done it to me weeks ago, but it is different watching it compared to seeing it happen to yourself. Unlike me, the new recruit took less time and was very eager to join the team. Charlie was a nerdy kid, and gay too, but he had a slight interest in football, but mainly for the hot guys who played it. I empathized with him, seeing as I was lusting over Zach just weeks ago. Naturally, me and Zach helped him realize that he could be one of those hot football jocks who he jerked off to, while also allowing him to appreciate the art of the game on more than a surface level. I watched Charlie transform and he was already in love with his new body and jock persona. He’s now one of the guys he’s thirsted for, and maybe if he’s lucky, he can get to suck off one of the bros. I don’t think any of them are gay, though, but if little bro tries to make a move on Zach though, I’ll beat the shit out of him. Maybe I’ll try to hook him up with another new gay recruit.

I heard a buzzing sound from the nightstand in front of me. I grabbed my phone, which lit up in the dark room. My new lock screen was a picture of me and Zach, our arms over each other’s shoulders, in our football uniforms after a hard-fought victory. Brad had messaged the group chat and it seemed like he had something important to share.

“hey bros my little bro braden is mad at me for joining the team and i think he knos about wat teh team is doin hes obv mizrabl and i want us to get along agan think zach and coach can turn him into a jock liek me?”

I remembered Braden and how antagonistic he acted towards me and the other members of the team. I still haven’t forgiven him for being so judgmental towards us. We just wanted to play football and be bros together. What was wrong with that? Judging from what Brad said, it is clear that he’s already gathering evidence on us just like he had said, as he knows about not just Zach, but Coach too. If the secrets of our program leaks, it could be very bad news. Because he was an enemy to the team, he was an enemy to me. However, I felt like I could forgive him if he joined us. Plus, I wanted him to see firsthand why we loved this lifestyle so much. I responded in the group chat.

“yea we shud do it b4 he trys telling any1 he knows about zach alredy and he knows i changed and tryd to warn me lets talk after practice”

Zach started to rise from his slumber, realizing that he had slept past his alarm and he gave me a kiss on the lips. I informed him of the situation with Braden and he agreed that this was probably the best option. I didn’t care if he would try to resist us, but he needed to know that we were not to be fucked with. Zach went downstairs to make breakfast for the two of us while I got ready for school.

I changed into one of Zach’s T-shirts that he let me wear and a pair of basketball shorts, and then I put on my hat, adorned with the team’s logo, and twisted the brim backward. Damn, I looked good. I got turned on by the man staring back at me in the mirror, with his toned body and cocky smirk that showed everyone that he was on top of the world. I could tell that my transformation was corrupting me, but in the best way possible. I loved it. This was everything I ever wanted.

On my plate were eggs, bacon, and peanut butter toast. Zach didn’t take his studies too seriously but at least he knew how to cook a good, protein-rich meal. It was a feast fit for muscular kings like ourselves. I chugged the protein shake that he made for me, rich with a chocolate flavor, before we got into my car and drove to school.

We arrived at school, sat through a bunch of boring lectures, and as soon as that was over, we went straight to practice. Earlier in the day, I bumped into Braden to show him who he was up against. He just glared back at me. It was an odd feeling knowing the power I had over others, but the idea of being stronger and better than everyone made me hard. While we waited for Coach to arrive, we discussed what to do about Braden. Charlie said that he had final period with him and that he looked at him funny. I found the coincidence that Charlie shared a class with him to be quite hilarious, and I imagined the irony of the situation to drive him insane. Brad said that his mom was going out of town for the week to visit family and his dad worked late hours, so he would have no one to pick him up.

With that information, I devised a plan. Since Brad would probably have to pick up Braden from school, we could use this opportunity in our favor and get him alone with us. Since we have practice tomorrow, he will have to stay until after we are finished, so as long as we can keep track of him, we should be able to take him to the locker room in order to be transformed. With the plan ready to go, we started practice. After that, me and Zach went to the gym and my biceps were swollen after a hard workout. I definitely reached a new high today, and I felt great. Zach decided to spend the night at my place as we tried to iron out any potential flaws in our plan. Zach seemed proud that I was taking an active role in the team.

“Hey bro, you’re doing a great job helping me to keep this team going. Whether it’s winning games, or helping out during practice, or giving new recruits the sweet taste of what it’s like to be a jock, you’re really awesome. When I first met you, I never imagined you would make this great of a jock.”

I blushed. No one had ever praised me that much. “What can I say bro? I learned from the best,” I responded as I kissed him. He wrapped his arms and body around me and spooned me like the night before. As I drifted to sleep, I reflected on Zach and the other guys on the team. They brought out the best in me. I fought for my life for them on the field just as they did for me. Off the field, they were like the brothers I never had. But Zach was the only person I felt truly understood me on a personal level. He made me who I am and he showed me how to make other guys as great as we are. And I eagerly awaited tomorrow when we would have yet another new recruit.

--Braden POV--

Looks like the jocks are at it again. Charlie was officially turned into yet another musclehead jock. We were kinda close, since we talked a bit during class, and I genuinely did get along with him despite his preference for jocks. To be honest, I thought he was kinda cute, but all he would talk about is how hot the football guys were which was a turn-off to me. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that he gave in to them. I’m sure he’ll have a great time taking dick in the locker room like he always dreamed of.

It was at this point that I finally developed a plan to put an end to the football team’s schemes. I learned the other day that my mom was going to visit family for the week, so I would be alone with “Brad” until my dad got home. Normally this would be a nightmare for me, since I’d have to stay at school until after his practice since he would be responsible for driving me home. I decided that while he and the other jocks were at practice, I would sneak into the locker room in order to find any evidence that these guys were turning into jocks. The more the better, but even just one piece of evidence would surely be enough to raise some suspicion against them. If I find any incriminating evidence, I’ll report it straight to the school and the police. It’s all up to me at this point.

After class, I went to the library to get some peace and quiet and to get a headstart on some homework before commencing with my operation. I found it hard to concentrate because I was so on edge. I figured I wouldn’t have any problems since practice was still over an hour long, but the anticipation was killing me. I was also distracted by heavy stomping outside. It was after school! Couldn’t they keep it down at least a little? And then, even though I should’ve been alone, I heard someone else enter the library.

It was Charlie! What was he doing here? Shouldn’t he be at practice? He was still wearing his uniform too. I had to admit, his new look did suit him. I found myself staring at his nice round bubble butt. It was always on the larger side, but it had to look even bigger now. His football pants helped to emphasize his best features. What am I even saying? Even if he was objectively more handsome, any attraction I would have for him would vanish as soon as he opened his dumb mouth.

“Hey, Brady! I didn’t know you were still here,” Charlie greeted me with a stupid grin on his face. I hated that he was trying so hard to be friendly with me.

“Yeah, Bradley has to pick me up today,” I responded. Surely just putting up with him would get him off my back for a while. The last thing I wanted was for him to interfere with my plans. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d be at practice.”

“I forgot my book in class, so I went to go get it really quick. But then, I saw you. Brad did say that he would be picking you up today.” What an odd excuse. I couldn’t imagine the coach letting him leave practice early for a stupid reason like that.

“Couldn’t you just go after practice? Like don’t you have better things to do?”

“I told Coach I’d be quick. Plus, I wanted to see you!” He wrapped his meaty arm around my scrawny shoulder. I could smell a strong waft from his armpit, from the sweat of a hard workout. I would’ve pushed him off me, but there was little point fighting back against a man as strong as he is. It was a friendly gesture anyways.

“I’m kinda sad that we don’t talk much, bro. I know I spend a lot of time on the football team, but I would’ve liked to get to know you better. I think you should join the team so we can hang out more.”

“I’m not…” my annoyant tone was paused as Charlie pushed his face into mine. He was kissing me? I had to admit, he was a good kisser, both strong and passionate. I wasn’t sure if he was naturally like this or if his jock side made him a better kisser. As our lips parted, I felt my face turn beet red. I was overwhelmed, embarrassed, confused, furious, annoyed…No. I couldn’t find any one word to describe how I felt. I knew I wasn’t supposed to kiss him, but it did genuinely feel nice even if I couldn’t stand Charlie the jock. I had to get it together. He was obviously trying to mess with me, but my answer stayed the same. “I’m not joining the team.”

“Yes you are,” a voice said as a set of hands grabbed me from behind. Before I could call out for help, one of the firm hands covered my mouth, deafening my cries for help. Fuck, it was Jake! He must’ve snuck in while I was distracted and disoriented. He effortlessly picked me up and shoved me into a black gym bag. I was trapped. I couldn’t see a thing and no one could hear me either. It was a tight fit and I couldn’t fight back against the scent of old, sweaty gym clothes.

“Good work, little bro,” Jake said as he high-fived Charlie. “Now let’s take him to the locker room.” Shit, they were already one step ahead of me. I had to admit, these meathead jocks were smarter than I thought. I remembered Charlie’s words and I realized what they were going to do to me. They were planning to turn me into a jock! This cannot be happening. As I tried to think of a plan to get out of this situation, my mind became clouded by the intoxicating scent inside the bag. I hated the smell of sweat and musk, but for some reason, I started to feel a little hard. For some reason, I picked up one of the articles of clothing, a sweaty unwashed jockstrap, and out of curiosity, I found myself sniffing it. I became distracted by the pungent smell momentarily as I was carried to my destination.

When I finally saw light again, I was surrounded by a horde of members of the football team in the locker room. They all stood in a circle and they looked like predators, and I was their prey. I contemplated the idea of running, but I knew it was physically impossible to outrun even one of them with their superior athletic abilities. I thought about begging for mercy, but I knew they could not be reasoned with and because of my pride, I didn’t want me to come across as weak. Brad walked over to me, carrying an entire football uniform that seemed way too big for me.

“Put them on, bro,” he ordered. I obliged, seeing as I no longer had any say in the matter. I felt a sense of embarrassment because the clothes were way too big on me. It felt like I was a kid trying to wear his dad’s clothes.

“You’ll grow into it, trust me,” Jake said, his hand on Zach's shoulder, a proud smirk plastered on his face. My worst fears were realized. I didn’t know how but they were going to turn me into one of them, yet another jock.

“You’re probably wondering why we brought you here, little bro. Well, we know you’ve been trying to get in our way. You’re the only student in this school who knows or even cares what we do. You’re the minority, bro,” Brad explained. He reached into my backpack which he was holding and pulled out the flash drive that stored all my evidence. “I noticed that you were trying to hide this the other day when I came in. You might just think I’m a ‘dumb brute’ but even I couldn’t miss something that obvious. I wonder why you had to hide it, bro…” he teased as he inserted it into a laptop on one of the benches. It didn’t take long for him to find the document I used to share my findings.

“Well, well…” Zach teased. “Looks like someone did their research. I’m kinda impressed at how much you use your brain, bro. Too bad you won’t be needing it for much anymore.” He then proceeded to delete the file as my hard work was erased from the flash drive. I felt mortified as my hard work was all for nothing and I realized what was going to become my fate. I then heard footsteps coming in from outside.

“I believe this is our first time meeting,” a commanding voice stated. From the way he spoke, I felt any amount of defiance I still had in me turn into submissiveness, like a father catching his son sneaking out at night. “It seems you already know who I am, but I’m Coach Myers. I’m sure you’re full of questions, and don’t worry, I’ll have plenty of time to answer every last one of them.”

I was looking at the man in charge, the mastermind behind all of the jocks who were transformed. I had so much I wanted to ask him, both out of curiosity and anger, that I didn’t know where to start.

“What caused you to turn these students into jocks?” I asked.

“Good question. I was always interested in bringing out the best in one’s self, but I never knew where to start until recently. Me and Zach’s father were close friends in the NFL. As a result, Zach always looked up to me, but even though he wanted to be a football player like his father, he wasn’t able to cut it.”

I looked at Zach, who normally seemed very confident and arrogant, but for the first time since I’ve seen him, for just a split second, he felt humbled, reminded of his shortcomings. For once, I kinda felt bad for the guy even though I thought he was a total douche. Despite the sob story, I still realized that what he had done was too far.

“He approached me in tears one day. He wished he was stronger, wished he was more like the guys he looked up to at school. And that’s when I realized that maybe I could help him. And so we spent almost a year studying ways to transform his body and even his mind into the perfect football player. And eventually, we succeeded. Zach was exactly the person he dreamed of being.”

I now knew why and how it began. Zach was the first, the alpha. But why did he keep doing it? “You helped to make Zach who he is now, but why did you continue to do it to other students?” I asked.

“I’m glad you asked. Although changing Zach was my finest achievement, I realized that there were many kids his age who were just like him. Some felt inadequate, incomplete, inferior, and some just lacked any purpose in general. So I gave these boys that purpose, and I made them into the strong men that they always dreamed of being. And not just in this school. High schools and colleges all across America are doing the exact same thing we are doing, all thanks to my innovations.”

I was shocked by this revelation. This jock problem was happening at an even larger scale than I could’ve possibly imagined. Surely there had to have been hundreds of guys turned into jocks just like here at this school, perhaps even some of the ones that tried to oppose them like me. I realized how hopeless I felt.

“I know my research is unethical but I believe that what I am doing is right. But back to you, do you not feel at least a little envious of your brother?”

I looked over at Brad…why was I calling him Brad? I have to admit, I was always a little jealous of him. He always seemed to be the favorite child, and now that he’s been jocked and has joined the football team, he’s infinitely more popular than me. If I were just like him, then maybe…No. That’s what he wants me to think. But at the same time, I could imagine myself becoming as strong as him, becoming as popular as him.

And then I realized the futility of this decision. They were going to turn me into a jock anyways. But for some reason, I had warmed up to the idea, in a way that would’ve sickened me just an hour earlier. Maybe I was experiencing Stockholm Syndrome, or maybe I did feel envious of Brad this whole time just like how Coach Myers described.

“Coach can make you just like he made me. We’ll finally get along again, and we can bond better than we ever could before. What do you say bro?” Brad asked.

I looked at my brother, then around to the other jocks around me, then finally to Coach. If I said yes, then I would have a brother again. I’ll be more attractive and more popular and maybe I’ll even be happier this way. Maybe Charlie will want to go out with me. But that would mean erasing who I am to become yet another jock. That I would lose and all of this would be for nothing. Who am I kidding? I already lost. I was doomed to become a jock the moment I tried to intervene in their plans. But you know, maybe this isn’t so bad. I tried to imagine my jock life with a newfound sense of optimism.

“You’ll have to consent to joining the team before we can move forward,” Coach informed me.

“Enough with your monologue, I’ll do it,” I answered, with a sense of humiliation as I surrendered. However, there was a slight smirk on my face, either from embarrassment or from how absurd my situation really was.

“That took less time than I expected,” Coach responded. “The rest of you, resume practice drills. Braden, come with me.” I obliged, anticipating what the Coach had in store for me. I signed a form, put on some earbuds, and put the helmet on.

As the hypnotic video in front of me played, I slowly became entranced by the spiral that was sucking me into my new life as I felt parts of my mind become erased, including any part of me that still tried to resist this. “I wanted this,” I thought to myself as new thoughts and memories started to fill the gaps in my mind. It was like a computer deleting old files that weren’t important in order to make room for stuff that mattered way more. I always looked up to my brother Brad, as he was a year older than me. He was incredibly talented at football, so naturally, I followed in his footsteps. Being younger, I was less experienced than him, but he was a good role model and I aspired to match him as a player. He was like the touchdown in the endzone and I was at the 50 yard line to put it in better terms.

My body changed entirely. Every muscle in my body expanded, like I was being pumped full of air. My football uniform that was way too big at first, soon fit me like a glove. It was a little painful at first, but I soon felt a wave of euphoria rush over me as I became obsessed with my body, especially my new dick, which more than doubled in size to a massive 10 inches. I started to resemble the new Brad, with the same short buzzcut. Before we didn’t look much alike. Brad was always more on the chubby side and I was on the skinnier side. But now, we could almost pass as twins. You could still tell which one of us was the little brother though.

This is who I am. This is who I always was. I am a football jock. I started to love the idea of playing sports and working out, along with other things. Except I always did? Part of me remembered thinking the jocks were stupid, arrogant, and annoying brutes, but that’s wrong because all my friends are jocks and they are really cool, bro. Bro. Bro, bro, bro…I’m starting to like that word, dude. Eventually I woke up, without any knowledge of what had taken place today, reveling in my new changes.

“I take it you won’t be a problem anymore, kid?” Coach inquired.

“No Coach! I’m sorry for causing you trouble dude,” I answered. Part of me felt off, and I felt confused for a second. I wondered what got me in trouble, but I shrugged it off because I don’t think about that kind of stuff.

“I did keep some of your smarts, unlike the others, but you definitely won’t come off that way. Your grades were better than the rest and I figured it’d be a waste if they were to completely go away. How would you like to help me expand upon my research?”

“That’d be awesome, sir!” I answered. My new self couldn’t comprehend the irony that I would be directly helping Coach with the very schemes I was trying so hard to stop in the first place. But why would I ever want to put an end to the very thing that made me who I am now? I didn’t look or act the part, but I’m kinda smart I guess. I’m not a fucking nerd or a know-it-all though. Not that I really want to use my brain more than I have to except for counting calories and football plays. I was interested in turning more men into awesome jocks like me though. “Can I go back to practice?”

“Yeah, go meet up with the other boys. I’ll be out in a sec.”

I joined my fellow bros and we resumed practice. Playing football just felt natural to me. We held a party after the game on Friday to celebrate our win. We were on a huge winning streak. We hadn’t even lost once this season! At the party, Charlie asked me out, impressed with my masculine new look. Turns out he did like me back after all. He kissed me in the library after all, although I don’t remember why we were there in the first place. He was always kinda hot, so I said yes, and we quickly realized how much chemistry we had beyond being bros. We were soon the second couple on the team, the other being Jake and Zach, who were a year above us, who were just as cool. Nothing wrong with some bro on bro action after all.

Me and Brad had a bit of a fight a while ago, but we’re cool now. I’m even closer with my big bro than I had ever been before, especially now that we’re on the team together. I loved life with my bros and I knew my bros loved their lives too. After practice, I would stay after with Coach and Zach and we would look into ways to create more and even better jocks. I haven’t been filled in on the finer details yet, but I know that they have big plans not only for this school, but for other schools as well. I found this purpose along with playing football to be much more compelling to me than anything else. If there was a part of me that was upset about this life, it definitely wasn’t there anymore because I loved being a jock.

--Zach POV--

I spent the night at Jake’s place again. Today was a long day though. Between practice and all the stuff with Braden, I was exhausted. It did feel like everything was resolved though, and I felt satisfied knowing that our secrets were safe now. I laid in Jake’s bed and I talked with him.

“Another jock well done bro,” I said, as I wrapped my arms around and kissed my boyfriend.

“We were awesome today,” Jake responded. “I can tell that Braden is already loving his new jock body. Glad he could finally see the light, bro.”

“Can’t blame him. I have no regrets about anything though, even Braden. How about you bro?”

“Me neither. I love being a jock and I love making my bros into jocks too. I’m with you every step of the way, bro.”

“That’s my bro!” I rustled Jake’s hair before leaning in for a kiss. For the first time ever, I felt completely content with my life. I have Jake, Coach, and all my other bros to support me. I’m the captain and star quarterback of the football team and I carry us to victory every game. The jock life is perfect for me and for all my bros. If even Braden could see how awesome it was, I knew that anyone could if given the chance. I got hard as I imagined what it would be like if every guy at school was as strong and handsome as me. If everyone was a jock. With Jake on my side and everyone else, I knew we could take on anything, anyone. Maybe even the world. “We still have lots of work to do.”

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This is the end of this series for now, so thank you for reading it. I'm open to expanding upon it even more in the future if the demand is high enough and if I have ideas on where to take it. I also have a lot of other shorter transformation story ideas that I want to write eventually, so stay tuned.

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silenzahra · 1 month

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Luigi the Bookworm 📚✨

Today, April 23rd, we celebrate Book Day in Spain with a beautiful tradition: gifting books and roses. In the past few months, I've started to see Luigi, my favorite Mario character, as a bookworm, thanks to some art pieces like this one, by Mikis_art94 on Instagram, and this one, a short comic by Sarahsketckesluigi, also on Instagram.

And, since I'm also a bookworm myself, I thought of celebrating this day by sharing with you my own take on Luigi's bookish side 🤭 Warning: this is gonna be LONG, so make sure to grab some drinks and snacks and make yourselves comfortable! 💖

(Also, I may go and turn some of these into actual fanfics at some point because, well... I got myself inspired 👀🤭✨)

Please go and check this amazing post by @itsavee4117! It's a companion to this one and you can see many of my headcanons illustrated in his lovely art style!!! 📚💖

@bberetd @vulpixfairy1985 @peaches2217 @nuctoria @keakruiser

@pepperycar @kelbreyworshipper @roscolate and anyone else who might be interested: I hope you enjoy! Happy Book Day! 📚🥀✨

Part 1: Luigi's Bookish Side

Luigi is a person who tends to get excited easily, and when he does, he experiences those feelings with great intensity. This applies to all aspects of his life, and reading, one of his greatest passions, is no exception.

In terms of genres, Luigi is generally open to read anything. He enjoys realistic novels, historical novels, classic novels, mystery novels, sci-fi novels... And he also reads books about gardening, cooking, baking and mechanics from time to time. The only things he’s unable to consume are thrillers and horror. He's tried, but, with all the times he's had to face King Boo, he's had more than enough terror and frights to last him a lifetime, thank you very much.

His favorite genres are fantasy and romance. The former, because traveling to made-up worlds allows him to forget about his real-life problems and offers him an escape from his daily life, which can often be exhausting. The second, because he’s a complete romantic who loves to see people loving each other and living happily ever after. And also... because of something that has to do with Daisy.

Luigi lives every book he reads with the same intensity. For him, it's as if the characters really existed, as if they were his friends, people he can talk to, share common interests with, and also help to achieve their purposes in life (i.e. in the books they’re from).

And maybe... just maybe... he's fallen in love more than once while reading and now he has a loooong list of literary crushes thet only keeps growing.

So, when he’s reading, Luigi laughs with the characters, cries when one of them suffers or dies, his heart tearing in his chest, and is deeply moved every time a tender moment occurs, such as a kiss, a hug or a cute scene involving, for example, a baby or an animal.

His favorite stories are those about siblings. Not only because he enjoys reading family stories, but also because, without even thinking about it, he often finds it easy to put himself in the place of the younger sibling. For him, therefore, it’s as if he were reading a story starring himself and his beloved brother Mario, and he loves to imagine that they’re going on adventures together in an unknown world. Almost like when they first arrived in the Mushroom Kingdom.

Over the years, Luigi has gathered quite a collection of books, so Mario, the moment they move into the little house in the Mushroom Kingdom that Peach offered them, doesn't hesitate to suggest to his brother that he use the extra room to build himself a small library. Luigi is not too sure at first, thinking that maybe his brother would like to have an office, but Mario insists.

So Luigi has a small library in his new home, which he soon fills to the top with books, and it’s his pride and joy. He and Mario assembled the bookshelves together, which they brought all the way from Brooklyn, and now Luigi has a wonderful reading nook where he can isolate himself to let his imagination run wild for hours. It is, along with the bedroom he shares with Mario, his favorite room in the whole house.

For Luigi, reading is something so important, meaningful and almost sacred in his life, that he has a whole ritual that he performs every time he sits down to read. He has a rocking chair in his small library, a present from his brother when they moved to live in the Mushroom Kingdom, and he has it placed right next to the window and in front of the fireplace. He likes to be able to see the sky when he looks up from his reading, and he usually stares at the clouds or the stars while he daydreams about or reflects on what he has just read. During the summer, he usually keeps it open, as he loves to read in natural light while the gentle breeze from Peach's land cools him, and in winter he keeps it firmly closed while the fireplace warms him.

Luigi loves to light a scented candle to help him get in the perfect mood for reading. His favorite scent is vanilla, as it reminds him of his favorite princess, but he also loves lavender and cinnamon. He usually makes himself a hot drink, sometimes tea, sometimes chocolate, and brings a nice blanket to warm up, which is why his favorite time to read is the coldest time of the year, especially autumn. He also prepares his set of post-its to mark his favorite sentences and parts of the book, and he has a ritual for colors too: yellow for funny moments, blue for sentences that make him reflect on them, red or pink for romantic scenes…

Luigi knows that there are many people who write directly in their books, but, for him, that is unthinkable. He sees books as a valuable and precious object, a repository of stories that helps him disconnect from reality and let his imagination run wild. He respects what everyone does with their books, but he’s simply incapable. Especially if it’s a book he has been given as a gift.

His favorite copies are hardcover, even more so if they include a dust jacket. He treasures all his books with the same affection, but those are undoubtedly his weak point. The most precious of all is a hardcover, dust-jacketed edition of his favorite book, which was a present from Mario, and which also has painted edges.

Usually, when it's time to read, Mario is either napping, spending quality time with Peach, or doing something else around the house. Polterpup, on the other hand, takes the opportunity to approach his owner and, if it's summer, lie at his feet while he reads. If it's winter, however, Polterpup will jump into Luigi's lap without his permission and cuddle up and fall asleep immediately, before Luigi even has time to recover from the fright and resume reading. (Check out @pepperycar's funny addition to this!)

Luigi is a speed reader. Usually, when he starts reading, he doesn't intend to go too fast. It's just that, after so many years reading, his eyes have acquired an astonishing speed, and he’s able to retain every word in his head despite going through them very quickly. Also, if a book really hooks him, he’s unable to put it down until he finishes it, which has caused him to stay up late several nights and go to work half asleep the next day, but it's always totally worth it. Because of this ability, he can finish books of about 300-400 pages in just a few hours, and sometimes also 500 if he gets caught up completely.

Luigi LOVES to buy books. His favorite visits are to Sarasaland and the bookstore, and he also does a lot of online shopping to support small publishers. Every time a new book comes home, he gets excited as if it's the first time, and always asks Mario to please record him while he's unboxing it. Mario unhesitatingly stands on the other side of the camera and makes sure that every shot is perfect and that the book looks great, and Luigi, delighted and grateful, always gives him the tightest and most spontaneous hugs every time they finish filming.

And, of course, once he has the book in his hands, Luigi squeals and kicks, excited, as he waves it in the air like maracas before hugging it tightly to his chest. And, when the book is a present from someone dear to him, he acts exactly the same, only he ends up crying and thanking again and again the person who gave it to him while, again, he presses the book against himself as if his life depended on it.

Luigi is VERY much a fan of merchandising. He loves collecting bookmarks, he has such a huge collection that he's had to divide it into several drawers, and every time he’s going to start a new reading, he tends to spend more time deciding which bookmark will be the most suitable than choosing the book itself. He’s also bought a few literary stickers and some printed works of his favorite books, like fanarts of different scenes or characters illustrated by various artists, which he's hung on a corkboard. And, of course, since his books are the most precious thing he has, he’s also bought many literary covers from different small artists' stores, so that he can keep his books well protected when he carries them around.

Luigi is the kind of person who takes a book with him everywhere. A doctor's appointment? Book in backpack in case the wait gets longer. Public transport? He can't think of a better way to spend it than reading. He even takes them with him when he meets up with Mario, Peach and Toad, just in case his brother and the princess get lovey-dovey, and Toad falls asleep. And, if there's one thing Luigi likes better than sleeping in nature, it's reading in nature.

Part 2: The Reader Brother

Luigi has loved reading since he was very young. When he and Mario were babies, their parents used to tell them a bedtime story, sometimes Pio, sometimes Mia, and Luigi always listened very attentively. He would gawk listening to them and loved how they used to put voices and even recreate some scenes to make them laugh.

Mario also listened very interested, but being a more energetic baby, he used to fall asleep about halfway through the story, with his head resting on Luigi's shoulder and his arm firmly around his brother's waist. Their parents would drool, but they had to continue, for Luigi, even if he was struggling to keep his eyes open, wasn’t going to go to sleep without knowing the ending.

Only then, with a satisfied smile, he would hug his brother back, curl up next to him, close his eyes, and put his thumb in his mouth to get ready for sleep. By then, Mario was completely asleep, clinging to Luigi like a koala to a eucalyptus tree, and their parents had to make great efforts not to melt as they tucked them in and kissed them goodnight.

Since then, both brothers have grown up being great lovers of stories, only that, while Luigi loves books, Mario prefers to consume them in movies or video games. Even so, these are all hobbies that the brothers share, as they love to immerse themselves in a good story that helps them escape from reality for a while.

When Luigi gets emotional about a book he’s reading or has just read, Mario immediately comes to his side to hug and comfort him. He knows that, even if it's fiction, his brother has lived through it all in such a way that his feelings, of sadness, joy or emptiness at having finished a great story, are real and intense. And Mario would never judge him for it.

Luigi is deeply grateful not only that his brother comforts him, but that he listens to him talk endlessly about what has just happened in the book he’s reading, and even catches his emotions. Mario may not cry, but he feels his brother's sadness as if it were his own. Fortunately, the same thing happens when Luigi is happy or excited because of a book, and even on the few occasions when Luigi has gotten angry with a character, Mario has giggled under his breath before calming him down, because he finds it extremely tender.

Luigi usually goes to the bookstore at least once a week, and Mario, since they were teenagers, has almost always accompanied him. The only exceptions were when Mario was dating Pauline, and Luigi had no problem paying his weekly visit to the bookstore by himself, but, deep down, he missed Mario.

His brother also loves to accompany him, because, despite not being as much of a reader as Luigi, he enjoys watching him go back and forth from one shelf to another, pointing out the books he’s already read and the ones he wants to read. Also, when he gets the chance to buy a new one, Mario is amused to see Luigi picking up one book after another and trying to load them all and then deciding which one to take home.

Of course, Mario immediately offers to help him carry the books so that Luigi can keep picking up more if he wants to, and Luigi appreciates it from the bottom of his heart. And also that, again, Mario listens to him chatting incessantly about why each book has caught his attention and why he has such a hard time making up his mind.

Mario always tries to guide him in the best possible way: "What do you feel like reading more right now?" "Is it part of a series or is it a standalone?" "Is the sequel already out or would you have to wait?" "Did you like this or that author better?"

And Luigi thanks him deeply for his advice and questions because, that way, he manages to discern which book he really wants to buy that time.

The best way to surprise Luigi, the best birthday and Christmas present, will always be a book. Mario knows this, and that's why he doesn't hesitate to ask his brother to show him his long and endless lists of books he wants to purchase, as well as discreetly taking notes every time he goes to the bookstore with him. Luigi cherishes every book his brother has gifted him like the priceless treasures they are to him.

Sometimes Luigi runs into space problems. Even though his bookshelf is large and spacious, there’s a limit to everything. In those moments when he’s overwhelmed because he doesn't know where to place his new acquisitions, Mario always comes to the rescue: he immediately offers to hang a new shelf on the wall, or to look for another bookshelf to place in some free space in the room, or, directly, he stares at Luigi's shelf with a frown and his hand on his chin for a few moments, before taking the new books from his brother's arms and, displaying his skills playing Tetris, manages to find room to place them.

He loves to do it not only because he enjoys applying in real life what he has learned playing video games, but above all because of the relieved smile that blooms on Luigi's lips when he sees that Mario has found the perfect solution.

Luigi loves going to literary events where he can meet his favorite authors and have his books signed, but he tends to get so nervous that he always gets stuck for words and sweats a lot, which embarrasses him deeply.

The first time, in fact, Luigi was so shocked to have his favorite author in front of him that he fainted. When he woke up in the ambulance, he was so embarrassed that nothing Mario, who, of course, always accompanies him, said succeeded in comforting him.

He only calmed down a bit at home, when, alone with Mario, he began to silently cry without even realizing it, and his brother, not uttering a word, sat down in front of him, worried, and wrapped him gently in his arms. He pressed the back of Luigi's neck softly to make him rest his head on his shoulder and stroked his back gently, his heart aching at each new sob that escaped his brother's throat.

It took him many, many years to convince Luigi to go to an event again, for Luigi feared the same thing would happen to him again. He didn't want to make a fool of himself like that ever again, especially not in front of writers he deeply admires.

So Mario decided that they would practice: he dressed as much as he could like Luigi's favorite author, watched as many videos as he could on the internet to soak up his personality and find out what kind of books they wrote, and pretended to be them again and again, relentlessly, until Luigi, little by little, managed to exchange a few words with him.

It took them many attempts, because, despite knowing it was his brother, Luigi had no trouble getting into the situation due to his overflowing imagination. Mario had to step out of character several times to try to calm him down and help him regulate his breathing.

Luckily, thanks to Mario's efforts, eventually it worked, and Luigi, a few years later, found himself back at an event and able to chat for a few minutes with the writers he read, even though his heart was beating frantically in his chest and excitement was flooding his insides.

He will never be able to thank his brother for his infinite patience, but Mario always plays it down tenderly. He keeps assuring him that it was not patience, but his deep and sincere love for his younger brother and his eagerness to help him fulfill his wishes.

Part 3: Royalty + Luaisy

Ever since the brothers met Princess Peach, she and Luigi have been, little by little, building up a beautiful friendship that grows every day, just like the sweet romantic relationship between her and Mario.

It didn't take long for Peach to discover Luigi's bookish side, and it made her eager and excited, as she has always enjoyed reading and loves to comment on the books she reads in great detail.

So she didn't hesitate to take Luigi to the huge library of her castle, and she smiled, touched, as she saw the amazement with which Luigi observed its towering shelves, turning on himself in the center of the room as he tried to take it all in.

Since then, Peach and Luigi have become reading buddies. The two of them love to immerse themselves in a good story, read together in the castle library while comfortably sipping tea and, of course, comment on what they have just read and exchange views. Luigi even ends up causing Peach to also take a liking to collecting bookmarks and literary merchandising.

They often do joint readings: they discover a book they both feel like reading and set a series of goals to try to read it at the same pace, so they can discuss it as they go along. Sometimes, however, Luigi discovers that Peach hasn't read one of his favorite books, so he doesn't hesitate to read it with her so he can see her reactions, and vice versa. They love to share their anger, their cries and their joys, for it fills their hearts with bliss and emotion that they have someone by their side who understands perfectly well what they’re feeling and why.

They enjoy hearing what this or that scene has made the other feel, or what they think of this or that character, because it helps them to see things from a point of view that, perhaps, they had not considered before. Reading enriches them, but their literary conversations enrich them even more.

And Mario, of course, is delighted that the two most important people in his life have forged such a strong, deep bond and spend so much quality time together, sharing one of their greatest passions. Often, unbeknownst to them, he stands watching them as they read in the library and gets a silly grin on his face when he sees them laughing together after chatting a bit about their readings.

When it comes to Prince Peasley, on the other hand, Luigi is the one who watches him while smiling, mesmerized, as the prince, always so elegant and sophisticated, has an exquisite oratory and knows how to strike the perfect tone every time a character intervenes, and also to confer the right emotion when it comes to the narrator. And Luigi, besides staring at him, enraptured by the fabulousness of his figure, also listens to him spellbound. He would almost say that he enjoys reading more when his beloved prince is the one who narrates, and plays, the stories.

Princess Daisy, due to her energetic nature, is not much prone to reading. She prefers more dynamic activities where she can unleash not only her endless energy, but also her competitive side. Even so, she knows and respects the value of books, having grown up well aware of their importance in safeguarding and protecting the history of her kingdom. (@kelbreyworshipper you may like these ones!)

But when she meets Luigi, she begins to show a slight interest in reading, something that at first was only born so that she could have something to talk to him about. Fortunately, Luigi, despite his initial shyness, doesn't need more than a mention of literature to start talking nonstop about his favorite stories and how much they make him feel. And Daisy, not even realizing it, finds herself listening to him entranced, very attentive to his every word and genuinely understanding why there are people, like Luigi, who find reading so exciting.

Over time, she starts asking him for book recommendations, which he happily obliges, and Daisy discovers that she actually enjoys reading, especially stories with tons of action. Still, what she likes the most about this is Luigi's thrilled and moved expression when he finds out she's actually listened to him, read the book he recommended and, therefore, now they can fangirl together. She falls even harder for him because of the cute little face he makes.

Sensing that her interest in him is growing and that it may be mutual, Daisy decides to invite Luigi to Sarasaland Castle to show him her library. At first she doesn't tell him what she has invited him for, which makes Luigi VERY nervous, as he doesn't know if this is a date or not. She playfully takes him by the hands, leads him to the library doors and asks him to close his eyes. Luigi hesitates a little, unsure, but ends up obeying so as not to disappoint her.

Daisy then opens the library and guides Luigi carefully inside. He almost trips, which makes her laugh, causing him, in turn, to relax a bit. And when she finally tells him to open his eyes, Luigi gasps and his jaw drops, his heart pounding in his chest, not only because that library is even a bit larger than Peach's, but also because, slowly, his mind understands and assimilates that Daisy had prepared this to surprise him.

And even though he’s fascinated by all the books before him, he ends up, without realizing it, looking at Daisy, with a blushing smile on his flushed face and his hands over his heart, while she explains to him that all those volumes belonged to his ancestors and that he has her permission to come whenever he wants to get them. "They're yours!" she says at last, turning to him, and Luigi's heart grows larger at the offer, causing a tear to escape his eyes as the princess, full of tenderness, smiles at him.

Over the next few days, Luigi goes to the library, encouraged by Daisy, who insists again and again that he come to Sarasaland. Her library has a huge ladder to reach the highest shelves, and Daisy uses it without a second thought to glide across the room, to the terrified gaze of Luigi, who dares not even climb the first rung.

As soon as she notices this, Daisy gets down, walks over to Luigi and takes him by the hand to guide him to the ladder. He almost cringes when she places his hand on the wood and freezes when Daisy encourages him to climb up. "It's completely safe!" she assures him. "And, besides, I'll be right here. You can hold my hand as you climb up. I promise I won't slide you down too fast the first time!"

Very slowly and clinging to Daisy's hand, Luigi climbs up the steps. She doesn't let go and keeps repeating phrases to encourage him, which makes Luigi feel almost as safe as when he is with Mario, though in a different way. Once he reaches the top of the first shelf, however, Luigi is unable to climb any higher, so Daisy doesn't pressure him any further. She gently grasps the lower end of the ladder and, after warning him, moves it a little, very slowly as she promised, to make him feel secure.

The next day, however, Daisy goes up right after Luigi and, leaning into the next bookshelf, pushes as hard as she can to propel the ladder to the opposite side at breakneck speed. Her laughter mingles with Luigi’s screams, but however, once they stop, he discovers that, despite his initial panic, he’s had fun with what Daisy has just done.

This then becomes a regular occurrence between them, until it gets to the point where Luigi feels comfortable and confident enough to climb the ladder by himself and propel himself across the library in true “Beauty and the Beast” style.

In the kingdom of Sarasaland there’s a tradition to honor books, as they’re not only a source of entertainment, but also the sacred objects that preserve their history. Daisy has grown up with these values and does not hesitate to tell Luigi about this tradition soon after they start dating.

On Book Day, it is customary for the man to give the woman a rose and the woman to give the man a book. This originated many centuries ago, before everything related to gender and relationships evolved, so nowadays, simply put, the members of a romantic relationship give each other both a book and a rose.

Luigi shows up in Sarasaland on the appointed date very nervously, dressed in a smart green suit, his favorite color, and carrying a wrapped book for Daisy, as well as a purple rose, very rare and hard to come by, which he has grown himself in his garden with Peach's help. Daisy greets him in a lovely purple dress, with a vaporous skirt, matching elbow-length gloves and her delicate shoulders bare. She holds out her gift to him almost before he reaches the castle gates and can recover from the amazement of seeing her so dazzling and beautiful.

He’s delighted when, upon opening it, he discovers that it is one of those special editions he’s been looking for for so long. Only Mario knew he wanted it, so he understands, without needing Daisy to tell him, that his brother has given his girlfriend a hand to surprise him. And that makes his heart fill with love and his eyes with tears, and the book even more precious to him.

Daisy excitedly opens her present and, to Luigi's surprise, squeals when she discovers that he’s gifted her a fantasy adventure novel that caught her eye when he first took her to his favorite Brooklyn bookstore. Daisy drags him into the library, invites him to sit down with some drinks (tea for him, a smoothie for her), and asks him to please start reading.

And so they spend their first Book Day together: settled on Daisy's fluffy library couch, she sat on his lap, the skirt of her purple dress spread over his legs, almost hiding them, and her arms around his neck, depositing light kisses here and there as he struggles to read aloud the book he’s just given her. This was the first time they gave each other a book, but of course it would not be the last, as reading together, visiting the Brooklyn bookstore and Sarasaland and Mushroom Kingdom libraries, and continuing to celebrate Book Day would soon become habit for them.

Daisy often stares at Luigi as he reads, amused by his reactions and the faces he makes, and, when their relationship is more established, she has no qualms about peeping over his shoulder. And Luigi, far from getting angry, what he did the first time and has continued to do ever since is to read aloud, so that she also finds herself immersed in the story without realizing it. (This may sound familiar!)

But what Luigi enjoys the most is that Daisy, whenever the characters in the book share some intimate gesture, instantly replicates it with him. If they hold hands, Daisy immediately reaches for Luigi's hand. If there’s a hug, Daisy wraps her arms around Luigi and holds him tightly, which leaves him breathless, but also makes him laugh and fills his heart with tenderness.

And, of course, if there are kisses, Daisy won't hesitate to start showering Luigi with them. First on his hand, on the tips of his fingers and on his palm. Then on the forehead, with a delicacy that always melts Luigi. His cheeks color every time Daisy places her lips on them, but what drives him absolutely crazy is when she seeks his mouth. It's the only thing that makes him put down the book and postpone reading for another time. (Check out @bberetd's wonderful art for this!)

Often, before they fall asleep, Daisy cuddles up to Luigi in bed, wearing his green shirt, and buries her face in the crook of his neck. Luigi absentmindedly begins to fiddle with her hair, delighted to have her so close, and, with his other hand, reaches for his book to read aloud a few more pages before they fall asleep. It's part of their routine and they both love sharing stories that way.

Part 4: The gang

The visit to the bookstore and libraries has now become a regular occurrence for everyone. As soon as he started talking about books with Peach and she showed him her library, Luigi immediately invited her to come with him and Mario the next time they went to their regular Brooklyn bookstore, and she gladly accepted.

On that first visit by the princess, Peach was as thrilled as Luigi and the two of them went back and forth in the bookstore, she eagerly looking at everything, he endlessly talking about the store and the many books he’s bought there. Soon they found themselves going often to acquire new books, not without first spending a good while in the place accumulating stories in their arms to, again, decide in the end.

Again Luigi was looking for Mario, who, unconsciously, had been staring at them with an amused smile and his eyes full of affection. Blushing, Mario would hurry to come to his side to help him, and Luigi, even though he’d caught him gazing at the princess in rapt attention, wouldn’t comment anything so as not to make him uncomfortable or put any pressure on him.

Many times, however, Peach would intervene and take two of the books Luigi had chosen. That's how she also started giving him books as presents, and Luigi couldn't be more grateful that his beloved friend pampers him that way. Her gesture makes her even more attractive and sweet in the eyes of Mario, who melts at seeing her displaying such adoration towards his beloved little brother.

Daisy, always eager to learn more about the place where her dearest hero in green grew up, also joins in, but, to her surprise, she finds herself next to Mario, fondly watching Peach and Luigi, especially the latter. They, however, are so excited talking about books that they never notice the goofy smiles with which Daisy and Mario look at them, delighted to see their two favorite people indulging in their greatest passion.

Despite this, both Mario and Daisy make sure to pay attention to the books that Luigi and Peach point out with the intention of acquiring them in the future, and then make plans with each other to decide which ones to give them on future birthdays, Christmases and, of course, regular days. Any time is a good time to surprise their favorite people with a new literary gift.

Sometimes, on their dates, Luigi and Daisy also go to the bookstore, and she, as always, listens to him talk very attentively. When it comes to advising him on which book to acquire, however, she’s much more practical: she thinks Luigi should pick the book he wants to read the most… or the one with the most romance in it.

And Luigi blushes violently because he perfectly understands the implications of such a suggestion.

Literary events also end up being a regular thing they all do together. Luigi, thanks to Mario, already manages to control his nerves and chat a bit with the authors when they sign his books. Peach, of course, is all sweetness and always tells them how much their stories have made her feel and dream. Mario just smiles and listens, delighted to be able to accompany them and to see them enjoying themselves so much, right up their alley. He always takes pictures of them with the authors, both together and separately, something he already did when it was just him and Luigi.

Daisy, on the other hand, is so spontaneous and genuine that she doesn't hold back when it comes to treating the writers with too much familiarity, which only embarrasses the others, especially Luigi. If it's the author of a romance book, Daisy doesn't hesitate to cheerfully tell them how much she and her boyfriend enjoyed the sensual and intimate scenes, or that she lost count of how many times she kissed her sweetie during the reading because of the sheer number of times the characters kissed.

In those moments, Luigi can only think of crawling under a rock. He has to resort to all the training with Mario to manage to keep his composure and not faint again or run away to hide so no one sees him turning red as a tomato.

However, then Daisy intertwines her arm with his and kisses him on the cheek, and he feels that his blush, this time, is due to being close to her and to her tokens of affection. After all, Luigi adores everything about his princess, all her sides and her personality, and besides, to other authors, fortunately, Daisy tells them how much fun she and her boyfriend had with their novel, and Luigi can only adore her.

At these events, both Mario and Daisy go out of their way to get lots of bookmarks and merch for Luigi and Peach, as they know they both love to collect stuff related to their favorite books. And also, again, they take mental notes of all the books they can buy as future presents for them.

From time to time, Toad and Peasley also join in on their visits to the bookstore, libraries or events. Toad is a big fan of fantasy and adventure comics, as they nurture his enthusiastic and adventurous spirit, and Peasley loves to talk endlessly with his favorite authors about the various subjects they cover in their books, thus unconsciously displaying, once again, his impeccable eloquence.

I really hope you liked this! I had a blast writing all of this and imagining my favorite characters in the many situations I've experienced myself as a bookworm, as well as adding others I came up with 🥰

Plase feel free to add your comments and feedback, and also headcanons if you have a few of your own! And if by any chance this inspires you to create your own stuff, I'd be more than honored 😭 All I ask is to please give credit! 🙏💖

Before I leave, please remember to check @itsavee4117's blog today! You won't regret it 🤩📚✨

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bonkhrnyjail · 5 months

Text

sweet plum | chapter one

pairing: pedro pascal x fem!reader (plus size)

rating: g (will become explicit later)

summary: you're almost late to work picking up coffee for your client.

a/n: hello hello! i've been posting this fic on ao3 for the past few months but had a request to post here as well, so here she is !!! this chapter is just a short and sweet intro to the story, future chapters are much longer. hope you enjoy :')

p.s. i wrote this WAYYYY before the starbucks boycott (like 9 months before) and will not be writing about starbucks in the future. free palestine. fuck starbucks.

Fuck.

You can hear the beat of your boot tapping the floor incessantly as you continue to check the lock screen of your phone, staring at the digits and jolting with every minute that passes.

You’ve never had to wait more than 5 minutes at this Starbucks, but of course the one day that your presence is absolutely essential on set, some freak decided to terrorize the staff by forcing them to remake his drink over and over, until he deemed it acceptable. You tried to intervene, but one of the baristas mouthed “It’s ok” to you over the maniac’s shoulder, so you let the situation run its course.

The curly-haired man working so diligently on your order finally calls out your name; you bolt upright and book it to the counter.

“Ok, we’ve got the grande Iced Blonde Honey Shaken Oat Milk Espresso,” he places the first drink into the carrier, “the, uh, grande Sweet Cream Cold Brew and… jesus I hope this one isn’t yours…” he lets out a chuckle, “the Venti Quad Espresso with two extra shots over ice.” He wiggles the drinks into the carrier and wedges a few straws in between the plastic cups.

“It’s not,” you manage through a chuckle, “My client needs his 'go-go juice'."

He throws his head back with laughter. Surely the joke wasn’t that funny, but you appreciate the flattery nonetheless.

“Here,” you hand the straws back to him. “Save the turtles.”

“Let me get you some napkins… oh shoot, we’re out. I’lll go grab some from the back.” He moves away from you quicker than you can stop him.

Fucking hell, you have to go now. You have 15 minutes until they actually start filming, and they need you for the inevitable touch-ups that the action of the scene will cause.

You can not fuck up this job. You’re nearly at the end of filming and you’ve been early, by some miracle, every time you were called to set. They took a chance on you, and you need to prove that they didn’t make a mistake.

“Here you go.” He emerges with a small bag in his hand. “I threw in a loaf to thank you for trying to help earlier.”

“Thank you so much, it was no problem at all,” you wedge the heavy drink carrier between your arm and your torso, “I really have to run, but I’m sure I’ll be back in the next few days, thanks again!” the words trailing behind you as you high-tail it to your car.

13 minutes.

You drive faster and more recklessly than you should, one hand on the wheel and the other stabilizing the drinks so they don’t skyrocket out of the passenger’s seat. As you finally pull into your designated stall, you see your client and his sidekick leaning on the car in the spot next to yours, motioning at invisible watches and tapping their feet. You’d think they’d be grateful that you just risked your job to get them their caffeine fix.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry,” you shout as you grab the carrier and bag from your car and hoist yourself up from the seat. “There was this guy, he was being a total asshole, made them make his drink like five times. Here.” you hand each of them their drinks. “P, the fucking barista laughed out loud at your order. He said he was scared for your health.”

“Listen,” Pedro takes a comically massive gulp. “I’m not as spry as I used to be, you know. I need a little help on that front.”

You chuckle and rustle in the paper bag. “Are either of you hungry? This guy gave me a cake slice but I’m not hungry enough for the whole thing.”

“We’ll split it.” Bella reaches into the bag and grabs the napkins, dispersing them amongst the 3 of you.

“Ohhhh ho ho ho… what’s THIS!” Pedro shouts, setting his cup on the hood of the car, holding his napkin up with two hands and clears his throat. “It was really sweet what you tried to do today. I’d love to repay you and TAKE YOU OUT SOMETIME?” his voice rising in pitch and volume.

He shows it to Bella and they start cackling. “It even has a little heart on it!” Bella exclaims through their giggles.

“Let me see that!” you snatch it out of Bella’s hands. The two of them start oohing and making kissy noises, prompting you to roll your eyes.

"What'd you try to do?" Bella pries. You ignore them.

“Are you guys literally 10 years old? Jesus.” you try to hold back your embarrassment as you examine the note. It has a phone number written at the bottom, signed with “xo”.

“You’re gonna call him, right?” Bella tore off a piece of the cake and passed the remainder to Pedro.

“No—” you hiss, instantly regretting the speed and intensity at which you responded. “I don’t know. Maybe? I guess he's handsome, but I don’t… know him… can we just drop it? We’re gonna be late.”

You want this attention off of you as soon as possible. You feel a hot flush prickle your cheeks and you turn your face away from the two of them, pretending to rustle through your bag and grab something.

“That's what a first date is for, dipshit! Man, you’re impossible.” Bella lets out an exasperated sigh. “Whatever,” they say, grabbing the napkin. “I’ll call him then, do it myself.”

You shake your head, chuckles still escaping your lips. “I think he might be a bit old for you, Bellie, but knock yourself out I guess.”

“That's not what I— You think I want a man? Please don’t insult me like that ever again.” Bella starts half-walking, half-skipping towards the elaborate set scattered with cast and crew. You follow their lead, Pedro trailing close behind.

“Hey, don’t listen to them. You do whatever makes you the most comfortable.” Pedro puts his arm around your shoulder and gives it a little squeeze. Your body shivers under the warmth of his touch and you manage a nod.

“Thanks.” you look up, finding him already gazing down at you, cocoa brown eyes twinkling and crinkled by a sweet smile.

“Anytime, sweet plum.”

. . . . .

chapter two

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #plus size reader #the last of us #pedro pascal fanfiction

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f1letters · 2 years

Text

vigilante shit | pg10 x cl16

"you did some bad things, but I'm the worst of them"

summary: revenge is served cold and it tastes especially sweet when it involves his best friend

warning: angst, toxic relationship, toxic reader, revenge, suggestive language, swearing, no cheating (since they are not together), a little choking? (lol this took a turn)

pairing: pierre gasly x reader, charles leclerc x reader

word count: 3.4k

note: everything in bold are song references and in italic are thoughts, which includes memories from the past.

french words used: mon ange = my angel; bébé = baby; ma chérie = my darling

we are officially back after last weekend! (please, let's NOT talk about it, I'm still in denial lol) 😂 I guess this story needs a shoutout to my toxic ex? thank you wherever you are in the world for the inspo! haha 😂 anyways, I hope you guys enjoy it as always!

masterlist

Draw the cat eye sharp enough to kill a man

You did some bad things, but I'm the worst of them

Sometimes I wonder which one'll be your last lie

They say looks can kill and I might try

A cat eye sharp enough to kill a man was the first step necessary to a killing night.

Y/N made sure her siren eyes were on point as she got ready for the party that night. It wasn't the first drivers' party she attended since she had become a frequent presence in the paddock for the last few months. But, boy, was it a special one.

This was her time to seek revenge.

Toxic? Perhaps. But the Machiavellian side of her didn't care. Her eyes were seeing red.

And red was her theme: her bright cherry-red lips, her long silk red dress, and the luscious red heels at the end of her smooth legs, which showed through the slit of her skirt.

She looked like a walking Ferrari prize, ready to be picked up by the winner.

Playing with me was the worst thing you've ever done, Pierre. You'll see, she thought, leaving the house.

I don't dress for women

I don't dress for men

Lately, I've been dressin' for revenge

It all started on an innocent, warm summer day when Y/N and a group of friends decided to take a boat on the gorgeous, fascinating Lake Como for some fun, swimming and sunbathing, while they were in the beautiful country of Italy.

Unknown to Y/N, in the same waters, another boat passed by hers, immediately catching the interest of all her friends. The young woman was completely distracted, tanning her back, when she began to hear flirty whispers and giggles coming from her group, swooning over some random guys.

Curious, the girl turned around until her eyes landed on the figures of two athletic, handsome men. God, it was unfair, couldn't she have both? A girl can dream.

She had always been a confident woman, but old-fashioned in a sense: she wasn't going to approach them. If they wanted to know her and her friends, they could address them. If not, their loss.

However... Life has a funny way of turning against you and when the group of friends was getting ready to leave the lake, their boat couldn't start. They tried and tried, but clearly none of them had the capacity to handle the situation. So they only had one option left: ask for help from the friendly, helpful guys on the next boat.

"Hey!" Y/N called out, in an attempt to get them to look. "Can you help us?"

"Hi! Is something wrong with your boat?" One of them, in blue shorts, questioned, curious.

"We can't start the engine. Can you help us?" She asked.

The two boys jumped out and swam to the girls' boat without hesitation. When they walked up the stairs, Y/N could almost hear her friends' jaws hitting the floor at the sight of their wet, muscled abs. But Y/N maintained his carefree demeanour, which only fascinated the two young men more.

The unreachable. The unknown. The treasure to be discovered. They lived for the adrenaline, for the adventure, for the challenge.

And she was a walking challenge.

"Thanks for your help. I'm Y/N." She introduced herself, extending her hand to greet them.

"Pierre." The boy in the orange shorts replied, half-closed eyes filled with interest.

"I'm Charles." The other replied, with a seductive smile plastered on his face.

How the girl would come to regret it when she thought back on that day. From that moment came the invitation for the young women to join the two drivers in their next GP in Emilia-Romagna, which they happily accepted.

And from there came more races, group dinners, parties, and much more. Everything got more complicated when what started as a group friendship ended up leading to a silent battle between the two friends for the confident girl's attention.

One of them, unfortunately, had to lose, and in this case, contrary to their races, Pierre came out victorious, much to Charles's unawareness. Although the Monegasque was an absolute Greek God on the outside and a sweetheart on the inside, Y/N couldn't help but initially let her tendency for complicated, toxic men lead her right to Pierre.

She fell for his charm right away. She didn't even have a chance to run. As soon as he made his first move on her when he pulled her into an empty room after a night of partying, he dominated the girl, body and soul, like he was poison burning right through the inside of her veins.

But like all poison, it's only a matter of time before you die without the antidote.

Secret nights, hidden moments, empty promises. He continued to feed off of what he wanted from her, while she sustained herself with the little crumbs left from the illusions she created in her own head.

He wasn't going to change, and she knew it. But it wasn't until she heard the words come out of his mouth that she realized really how she had been used all those months.

"I never wanted a serious relationship, mon ange," Pierre confessed, unconcerned with her feelings. "You knew from the start that this was just fun for the two of you."

"Fun for the two of you?" She echoed his words. "You've been saying for months that we're eventually going to be in a relationship. Don't lie now. Which one'll be your last lie?!"

She wasn't going to allow herself to cry in front of him. She kept her gaze directly on him, with a look that could kill.

"You know what? You're right." She replied, smiling at him through the pain she felt in her chest. The corners of her lips turned up, but her eyes didn't follow the gesture, leaving Pierre almost startled by the mixed signals. "Have a good life, Pierre. I'll see you around."

Oh, he was going to see her around...

If there was one thing Y/N liked better than a good boy toy, it was revenge.

And she was thirsty for some vigilante action.

I don't start shit, but I can tell you how it ends

Don't get sad, get even

So on the weekends

I don't dress for friends

Lately, I've been dressin' for revenge

She wasn't going to let herself be affected by a guy who didn't treat her as she deserved. That wasn't something that lined up with her strong, confident, determined personality.

Cry for him? Be heartbroken because of the shitty way she was treated by him? Why be sad when you can get even?

The perfect opportunity for payback just presented itself to her. Just like that: so tempting, so inviting, so alluring. In the form of a single text.

From: Charles Leclerc

hey! you're coming sunday night, right? need you at my victory party...

Y/N spent the whole time with her focus completely dedicated to Pierre when she had a caring, honest man in the palm of her hand... And she would be lying if she didn't say that the fact that he was absolutely drop-dead gorgeous didn't help captivate her now that her heart was free.

However, part of her mind told her that, although she was attracted to Charles, it would be unfair to basically use him to provoke a reaction out of Pierre. The Monegasque didn't even dream of the affair his two friends had going on in the recent past. It was just wrong. After all, how could she do to him what the Frenchman had done to her?

With this, an internal debate was created within the young woman. There were two options: she could be the superior person and move on with her life without thinking about the past, or she could let her anger take over and play with fire a little.

Unfortunately for Pierre, Y/N was never very good at keeping the burning fire of revenge inside her, and she was determined to have a little fun with it.

She needed cold, hard proof, so I gave her some

She had the envelope, where you think she got it from?

Now she gets the house, gets the kids, gets the pride

Picture me thick as thieves with your ex-wife

That Sunday, Y/N walked into the club like she owned the place. The white lights reflected off her as if she were the mirror ball in the centre of the dance floor: all eyes were on her as she outshined the rest of the world.

Two pairs of eyes averted in unison as she approached the group of drivers, both believing she was there for them.

Pierre, closest to the stairs she was going up to the VIP area, was the first to approach the girl, with an inquisitive look.

"Mon ange, I didn't expect you to be here." He confessed, convinced that Y/N was there with the intent of getting him back.

What he didn't expect was that her siren eyes wouldn't even meet his. She was a woman on a mission, and her eyes were on only one person: his best friend.

Without saying a single word to him, Y/N made her way over to the handsome winner of the race, who had his mesmerizing blue eyes already fixed on his shiny red prize.

"Wow, bébé!" He whistled, giving her his hand and making her take a turn to show off her look. "I love the red, it suits you well. Was that all for me?" Charles, more confident than usual from a couple of drinks already consumed, flirted with the girl, his eyes admiring her from head to toe.

"How did you guess?" She replied, in the same tone. Y/N couldn't deny that Charles looked incredibly appetizing. His baby blue shirt was slightly open, exposing the man's defined chest, his hair was tousled and wild, and his eyes were brighter than ever.

"Just a lucky guess. The red Ferrari was a given, though." He chuckled as he pulled her closer to him. "You look so pretty tonight, Y/N. Not that you don't always look stunning, but tonight... Damn, you look fucking incredible, ma chérie."

Charles, focused only on the woman in front of him, didn't even notice how his best friend was glued to the shocking image of the Monegasque clinging to his ex-lover, but Y/N could feel Pierre's eyes burning into the back of her neck.

The young woman couldn't help but let out a satisfied grin. Pierre thought he could play with her without having to deal with the consequences, but he forgot that karma has a way of always biting someone back.

Y/N let her hand flow along the shirt of the driver in front of her until she reached his collar. She approached him seductively until her red inviting lips approached his ear.

Letting her mouth graze against Charles' warm neck, she began her plan. "Do you want to dance, champ?" She asked, with a suggestive tone to her voice.

"Lead the way. I'm all yours tonight." Charles responded and placed his hands on the girl's waist in response.

Enjoy the show, Pierre. It's just getting started.

And she looks so pretty

Drivin' in your Benz

Lately, she's been dressin' for revenge

As the pair moved towards the centre of the club, Y/N swaying his hips gently to the music and Charles with his hands all over the girl's body, Pierre's gaze moved with them.

The Frenchman's muscles tensed up, something that didn't go unnoticed by his teammate Yuki, who was standing right beside him.

"Hey, is something wrong?" Tsunoda asked, worried. "You look... I don't know, upset."

"Everything is fine," Gasly replied, though not at all convincingly. "Everything is perfectly fine." He continued, not understanding whether he was trying to convince the Japanese driver or himself.

He broke up with her, okay, he knew that. He would've understood if she showed up with some random guy trying to tease him. But his best friend, someone he's known for decades?

Y/N was taking things too far.

Pierre unfastened two buttons of his shirt, in an attempt to catch his breath, now dominated by rage. If your plan was to make me jealous to prove me wrong, you've done it, he thought to himself. Now that's enough.

Now for Y/N, revenge was just beginning.

"I think the winner deserves something special." The young woman put her arms around Charles' neck, letting her fingers flow through his brown hair and giving him a provocative smirk. "Don't you agree, Leclerc?"

"Well, he tried really hard to win the race." He joked back, speaking of himself in the third person. The driver's hands threatened to slide further and further down her back towards her bottom. "I think at the very least he deserves a dance with the prettiest girl in this club."

"Perhaps if the winner behaves well during the night, he can find out if his prize is red under the dress too." She teased him, licking her lips as she looked down at his flawless mouth. "Do you think he would like that?"

"Oh, for sure." He answered, getting his face closer to hers.

Y/N felt her heart beat faster and more euphorically, something that caught her off guard. This all started with intentions to punish Pierre for what he did to her, but without her relationship with the Frenchman clouding her mind, Y/N couldn't help but see Charles in a different light for the first time.

Of course, she always thought he was hot and she noticed his attempts to get close to her. But at that moment, the young woman was looking at him and her body seemed to react automatically to the Monegasque's presence, trying to reduce the physical distance between the two as much as possible.

She don't start shit, but she can tell you how it ends

Don't get sad, get even

So on the weekends

She don't dress for friends

Lately, she's been dressing for revenge

She let herself be carried away by the impulsiveness of the moment and, leaving her thirst for vengeance forgotten in the back of her head, Y/N pulled Charles towards her and let her cherry-red lips kiss his.

Leclerc instantly returned the kiss, with the same passion, the same determination, and the same hunger for each other.

At that moment, it was just her and him. It didn't matter the circumstances that led them there, but that there was indeed chemistry and desire for each other. She simply had enough of Pierre and his lies.

On the other hand, Pierre couldn't believe what his eyes were seeing. The woman he used to call his between four walls. The man he called his brother. Kissing. Hands exploring their bodies. No shame, no concern for who saw them and the opinions of outsiders.

It was what Y/N wanted from me and I never gave it to her, he realised.

The couple broke the kiss and Charles ran his hand over the girl's forehead, pushing the loose hair behind her ear. Y/N giggled when she saw the image of the driver's lips now stained with her lipstick and tried to clean them by running her thumb lovingly over them.

Suddenly, she felt the side of her face burn and instantly she realized why: her ex's eyes were fixed on her. As soon as she turned her face towards him, their eyes met and she just imagined all the names he was calling her in his head. She gave him a smirk and turned back to Charles.

"I'm going to the bathroom and I'll be right back with you, okay?" She asked, knowing full well that Pierre was going to follow her.

"I'll meet Carlos and wait for you in the VIP area." He informed her, a hungry look on his face, giving her hand one last rub with his thumb. "But you better be back soon because I've been promised a prize that I can't wait to unravel."

Ladies always rise above

Ladies know what people want

Someone sweet and kind and fun

The lady simply had enough

Just as she predicted, Gasly followed as soon as he saw her heading towards the dark hallway to the bathrooms.

Along the way, and just when he thought his nightmare couldn't get any worse, the Frenchman bumped into Charles, who had a smile plastered to his face like a man who had just won the lottery. Pierre wanted nothing more than to punch that stupid smirk out of his face.

"Mate, I finally got the woman of my dreams." Leclerc innocently admitted, unaware that he was pulling his friend's strings.

Pierre simply walked away, bumping into Charles's shoulder, who was left behind confused by what had just happened.

As soon as he reached the hallway, Y/N was nowhere to be seen. He assumed she was in the ladies' room, so he leaned against the wall beside the door as he waited for her to exit.

A few minutes (which seemed like hours to the impatient man) passed before she got out. As soon as Pierre saw her figure, he grabbed her by the wrist and pushed her against the wall in an act of rage.

"Can you explain to me what the fuck is going on?" Gasly spat out the words, hot-headed, leaning his body completely over the young woman's. "Are you fucking kidding me? Charles? Of all people."

"I'm sorry, but since when do I owe you an explanation? If I remember correctly, you and I are nothing." She spoke, mirroring the same angry tone.

"Shut the fuck up." Pierre gripped her wrist tighter, letting her know that her plan was working exactly as planned. "You crossed the line."

"I just thought the winner of the race deserved a worthy prize." She smirked until the driver placed his hand on her throat and squeezed lightly, making the smile soon disappear from her face.

While he was doin' lines and crossin' all of mine

Someone told his white-collar crimes to the FBI

And I don't dress for villains

Or for innocents

I'm on my vigilante shit again

"You already got what you wanted. You had your fun, you got me fucked up." He confessed. "But that's enough. You're going to get out of here and go home immediately because I'm not about to take this shit."

Y/N laughed in his face. This man's audacity to try to boss her around after using her as his personal toy in his spare time.

The young woman was far from done with her plan. So, she gave him those puppy dog eyes he couldn't resist and he released her throat, his eyes softening at the image of her.

Y/N brought her face closer to his, half closing her eyes as their lips prepared to meet. Or so Pierre thought, who was caught off guard when the girl ducked her way towards his ear and whispered her last words.

"This is only the start. Enjoy my revenge like I'm going to enjoy my night."

I don't start shit, but I can tell you how it ends

Don't get sad, get even

So on the weekends

I don't dress for friends

With that, the young woman left the dark hall without looking back and walked confidently towards the gorgeous man who was waiting for her.

Charles smiled behind the glass he was drinking from as soon as he laid eyes on the girl in red, getting a pat on the back from his friend Carlos.

"Ay, ay, ay, my friend. You are completely head over heels for her." Sainz teased and walked away from them, leaving the couple alone.

Leclerc grabbed the girl by the hip and pulled her towards him, placing a soft kiss on her red lips.

"Do you want to get out of here?" Y/N asked, winking at the boy.

"Hmm, tempting..." For the first time that night, Charles made the risky move of placing his free hand over the girl's ass. "What did you have in mind, bébé?"

Y/N started her night dressed for revenge not knowing that she would end up with her body burning for the Monegasque, but maybe Charles Leclerc was just the antidote she needed in her life as she tried to get back to her past self.

"What about some undressing?"

Lately, I've been dressin' for revenge

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crimsonmoonlight88 · 8 days

Text

Together Strong

Pairing: Noa x Mae

A/N: Help, I've fallen and I can't get up. Just a short drabble inspired by a scene from Avatar that refused to leave my mind.

It was hard to believe the war for world domination was over for now--harder, even, to think how much had changed since the first time Mae had stepped into this ruined observatory and gazed upon the stars.

Like that fateful night, the sky was dark and cloudless, glittering with stars and the promise of a brighter future. Mae had been wrong, then. The world did not belong to the humans--it belonged to humans and apes, and together they would need to navigate this new age.

The Eagle Clan had tripled in size, and was now established as one of the leading territories. The Clan had chosen a new Master of Birds and Warlord, which called for a celebration. Mae had never known what it was like--to feast and laugh and tell stories over bonfires. To listen to the beating of drums and chants of song.

The festivities that followed the ceremony would last long through the night, and she had needed a moment of quiet, seeking this long forgotten place beneath the stars.

As Mae moved toward the telescope, she heard him enter, intentionally making himself known as to not startle her. But he did not speak. She wondered when he had noticed she had slipped away; he always seemed keenly aware of where she was, just as she was of him.

The past few weeks--months, really--had been nothing but plotting and planning and fighting. There had been blood, and death, and little time to talk about much else but war and peace. Mae did not mind. It let her avoid the truths she feared to acknowledge.

But she knew she could longer avoid them.

"It feels like ages since we were here," she said finally, a hand trailing over the cool bite of metal. "You are the Master of Birds now." She dug a finger into a groove, feeling moist dirt there. "Anaya says you will make a bow from the wood of the tallest tree." She paused. "And you will choose a mate."

Noa said nothing, watching her from the shadows in that silent, still way of his.

For some reason, Mae could not look at him, even though she could hardly look away during the ceremony. He had been covered in dark blue and white woad, adorned in armor that made him look more a knight than an ape. Master of Birds and Warlord. A leader.

Mae reached up to the necklace she always wore, her fingers playing with Raka's medallion--the symbol of peace and strength. "Nina is a good singer," she admitted. The female was one of the best in the clan, taming even the most wild of eagles.

A beat of silence. And then Noa said, his voice drifting from the shadows, "I do not want...Nina."

Mae suppressed a smile, but it quickly faded. "Soona is a good hunter. And an even better friend." And you were born within a sunset.

Another beat of quiet. And then--

"She is...all those things." He paused. "And family."

Mae stilled, not just at his words, but because he had snuck up behind her. She turned, half dreading what she might find. Noa stood at his full height, intimidating in his warrior's garb. He was hardened from war, but his eyes were still soft as he looked at her.

"But I have...already chosen," Noa went on gently. He reached out, his large hand covering hers over the medallion, his eyes bright. "But this woman...this...Nova...must also choose me."

Mae smiled at him, blinking back tears. "She already has."

His lips parted slightly, almost in disbelief. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to hers, his strong hands finding the back of her neck.

"You choose...this?" he breathed. "You choose...Eagle Clan? Me?"

He had once asked her if apes and humans could live together. Then, she had not known. But now, she could see no other future. Noa and Raka, Soona and Anaya and the others, even the humans that had joined their forces, they were family now.

"Yes," Mae answered. "Our cause is important. What we have built is important." She reached up, cupping his cheek. "You are important. To me."

His hands tightened on her neck, no doubt remembering those words, how he had said them to her on the battlefield when he had begged her to run. She refused. She would not leave him and the others then, and she would not leave them now.

Mae closed her eyes. "Together," she went on, "strong."

"Together," Noa echoed, his voice a promise, "strong."

And as they stood there under the stars, ape and human but somehow twin souls, Mae knew, no matter what the future held, they would face it side by side.

Together.

#nomae #noamae #noa x mae #crimsonmoonlightfic #Yes Raka lives how could he not #please be kind its just fanfic

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nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos · 8 months

Text

Your Scars Are Mine

Ch. 2

LA! Mihawk X AFAB!Reader

Tags: Fluff, Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Graphic Mentions of Violence, I guess that's it, I'm bad at this

⚠️ MASSIVE ASS TRIGGER WARNINGS⚠️ : Self-harm, Blood, Implied PTSD

Summary: In the few months that he has known you, Mihawk has noticed the scars on your arm. You've refused to talk about them and skirted around the subject successfully, but a trip to Shells Town throws everything out into the open in a way that neither of you were prepared for.

Ch. 1

Your words hung heavy in the air for a moment, before you opened your eyes, and gave a small smirk.

"But if that was a punishment I'm going to have to misbehave more often."

Mihawk shoved at your hip a little as your smirked widened. "We happen to be on a bit of time crunch, my dear," he reminded you. "I still have an appointment to make."

"Excuses," you said airily, rolling onto your back. You tipped his hat down over your eyes, stretching your arms back out behind your head. "What the hell is a vice admiral doing in Shell's Town anyway?"

"Apart from being a thorn in my side?" Mihawk shifted onto one elbow, his eyes passing over you as you lowered one arm to rest your hand over your bare stomach. His gaze landed on your arm, his mouth turning down in a frown as he took in the scars across it once more, like horizontal stripes across your soft skin, spanning from your delicate wrist to an inch above your elbow. "I imagine still handling the backlash of the sacking of Axe-Hand Morgan."

"He was fired?" you asked, amused. "What, because ofnthe Strawhats?" He gave a small hum in affirmation as you laughed. "That's hilarious." You shifted on the sheets, stretching your back with a slow sigh. "I may just stay right here while you handle your appointment. I don't think I can stomach so many Marines in one place."

"I would request that you venture out long enough to resupply." Another sigh left you, this one in clear protest. You had made quite clear your particular distaste for the company of Marines over the past few months, though not your reasons, a subject you tended to avoid as aptly as your scars. "It would lessen our time here." He rest a hand tentatively over your wrist, and didn't fail to notice how you recoiled slightly when his thumb brushed across a few of the mark. "Put us leaving as soon as I've finish dealing with Garp."

"Fine," you said shortly. Your arm slipped away from his hand, a subtle movement but one with a clear message, and pulled his hat from your head to drop it onto his, sitting up on the bed. You reached behind you and unhooked your torn bra. "The sooner the better. I am the errand girl, after all."

"Are you going to skirt around the subject forever?"

You paused for a moment—a brief, almost imperceptible moment—in picking up your shorts from the floor of the cabins. "No idea what you're referring to," you said casually, tossing his pants onto the bed.

"The scars," he said plainly, shifting to the edge of the bed to pull his pants back on, watching you disappear behind the door of the wardrobe at the other end of the cabin.

"There's no subject," you said, just as calmly, but he was sure he would have seen your shoulders grow tense had you not been hidden behind the door. "I've been on the seas for nearly ten years, anyone would have a few scars after that long."

"Ten," he repeated, his brow furrowed. "You're twenty-four."

"Nearly ten years," you repeated again. "It's not as if I've been pirating the entire time. That's only been...around six years."

"And what precisely were you doing prior to that?"

"It's a long story. And not a very interesting one." You shut the wardrobe, still buttoning a flowy white shirt—long sleeve, as usual, covering your arms. "And we're on a time crunch."

"We'll have all the time in the world after we're done here." As always—it was one step forward and two steps back with you. Mihawk stood and caught you by the waist before you could stroll out of the cabin, turning you to face him. Your shoulders were tensed, your jaw clenched as you met his eyes. "I hate to use our arrangement as pull, but if I must, I will." You averted your gaze as he lifted a hand and brushed a few strands of your hair behind your ear. "I prefer to know those working under me."

"Fine," you said through your teeth, pushing his hand away. "I go play errand-girl, you go play Garp's lap-dog, then we have a nice relaxing interrogation to round it all off, hmm?"

Mihawk lifted his eyebrows, a bit taken aback at how you swatted his hand away—but your scathing tone didn't surprise him too much. He wasn't exactly known for his openness, and it wasn't too big of a stretch that your own largely solitary career had kept you from being particularly open with anyone. That you would be defensive and stubborn to the point of hostility if anyone pushed the present subject.

But he could be plenty stubborn himself.

He lifted his hand again, wrapping it around your chin this time, resting his forehead against yours so you had nowhere else to look except for his eyes. He couldn't expect vulnerability from you without offering the same. Even if it was only a little to start, it was only fair.

He pressed a brief, deep kiss against your lips, and you met his eyes fully when he parted from it. "I love you. I'm fairly certain you are no more accustomed to hearing that than I am to saying it." You glanced away for the barest of moments, the tension in your shoulders easing a bit. "But it's the truth, and...I suppose it means there are certain matters we will need to meet halfway on. This is one of them."

"I already said I'd talk." The outright hostility had gone from your voice, but there was still a little annoyance buried in your quiet tone. "It's just...not an easy subject." There was something else there, sone other emotion, but before he could pinpoint what it was, you sighed and laid your forehead heavily against his broad chest. "Sorry I called you a lap-dog."

"Garp's lap-dog, at that." You hung your head lower with a small whine. "I've severed heads for less."

"Weird." You lifted your head, laying your temple against his shoulder and blinking up at him. "It's almost like you like me or something."

Mihawk could only stare at you in disbelief for a long moment as you grinned cheekily. After a moment he shook his head, rolled his eyes, and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you against him.

"Or something," he said, and tilted his head down to pull you into a firm, lingering kiss.

You looped an arm around his neck, sighing softly and melting against him. Priorities briefly forgotten as your fingernails raked lightly down his back, he tugged you closer by your hips and pressed you back against the cabin wall, pushing his tongue into your mouth, hands under the hen of your shirt—

Until a grating CRASH sounded outside, and the small ship lurched violently, immediately breaking your lips apart. He tightened his grip on your waist until the ship grew steady, registering what had happened as the pair of you heard the sounds of shouting and commotion outside. He gritted his teeth, lying his head back with a heavy sigh.

"I believe we've arrived."

"Oh—" Your eyes widened as his meaning truly sunk in. "Oh, sh—"

You shoved away from him, hurrying to push open the door to the deck as Mihawk placed a hand against the wall, pinching at the bridge of his nose. This day was not at all panning out how he had hoped it would—a potential kidnapping, arguing, and now crashing a brand new ship into a town full of Marines. He glanced over when you heaved a sigh of relief and leaned in the doorframe.

"Looks like we just hit the dock," you said, running a hand back through your hair.

"Is that all?" he replied dryly as you headed out onto the deck. He heard the sails lowering as he collected his wits and crossed the room to grab his coat.

"Doesn't look like there are any major damages," you called back.

"No damages?!" Mihawk paused in pulling on his coat, glancing toward the doorframe to see you peering over the railing at the bow of the sloop, as a particularly surly Marine cadet with cropped yellow-blond hair stood overhead on the dock shouting. "You've taken out two of the supports! Are you completely daft?"

You looked up at the cadet. "Not completely," you replied to him pleasantly. "And I assure you I'm more than happy to provide compensation."

"Oh, yes, because a teenage girl in a rowboat can afford the Berry required for structural repairs on an entire dock."

"I'm twenty-four." The pleasantries were quickly leaving your tone. Mihawk quickly strapped Yoru to his back, hellbent on keeping this from turning into any more if a scene than it already was. "And it's hardly my fault that my rowboat is more structurally sound than your dock, sir. Who's in charge here? I would prefer to speak with them directly rather than stand here and be insulted."

"As a senior cadet serving directly under Vice Admiral Garp, I am in charge here, miss."

"Sounds like he wanted you as far away as possible. Can't say I blame him—"

"I will have you know that I—"

"(Y/N)." You jerked your head over your shoulder as Mihawk stepped onto the deck, glancing at the cadet. Up close he recognized the boy as the son of the ex-Captain Axe Hand Morgan, though his name didn't come to mind. Clearly the self-righteous twig recognized him however, as his jaw fell open mid-sentence. You gave a small snort of laughter that you attempted, unsuccessfully, to pass off as clearing your throat. "Finish getting your things, I'll handle this."

"He called my ship a rowboat."

"I'm aware," he said wearily. He place his hand on top of your head and pushed you back a couple steps. You pursed your lips, tossed one last glare at the surly cadet, and stalked off toward the cabins. Mihawk turned his gaze back to the cadet, who stood at attention immediately on the damaged dock. "I'm afraid my associate and I were discussing business and lost track of how close we were to land. Fetch your shipright and have him write up an estimate. I will provide compensation to the vice admiral directly."

"O—of course, sir. My apologies—"

"And send word ahead to Garp that I have arrived. I would prefer not to linger here any longer than necessary."

"S—Sir."

The cadet gave a quick salute and hurried off as quickly as his feet would carry him. Mihawk rolled his eyes and turned, leaning against the back of the bow and crossing his arms while he waited. At least the ship itself had suffered no damages—as he had expected, given the strength of the hull's armor—nor had it hit any other vessels. It was a small blessing, if nothing else.

You emerged from the cabins with your daggers at either side of your belt, the head of a lion carved into each of their ornate ivory hilts that resting at your waist, your belt satchel strapped around your thigh and your throwing knife sheaths around your oposite calf. You were still pulling up one of your brown leather boots as you crossed the deck.

"What a mess," you commented, leaning against the bow next to him and cringing at the sight of the lop-sided dock. He watched you drop your hat onto your head from the corner of his vision, an old and tattered leather tricorne that you refused to replace as much as you refused to discuss its point of origin. "I'll pay for the damages. Being that it's my ship and all."

"If you insist on it, we will split the cost," he said. You glanced at him, frowning. "We're both responsible for losing track of time."

"Fair," you admitted, chuckling a little. "Fifty-fifty it is, then. I'm going to get a head-start on resupplying."

As you put a leg-up on the railing, Mihawk wrapped a hand around your wrist to stop you. You glanced over, frowning curiously.

"You'll be careful," he instructed. "I am under contract with the World Government, but you are not. Keep your head down." You had made your distaste for Marines clear on more than one occasion, and your interaction with Morgan's son minutes earlier did nothing but prove it. "Cadet or otherwise, don't get yourself into any unnecessary altercation."

"I'll be fine," you said confidently. He lifted an eyebrow at you, making his skepticism known. "I will. I've managed to avoid ending up with a bounty for six years. I'm not going to ruin that by making a scene right outside a Marine base."

"Good." He let go of your wrist, turning to the side to watch you climb onto the railing and hop over to the ruined end of the dock. "Out of curiosity," he added slowly, and you looked down over your shoulder, "how have you managed to avoid accruing any bounty?"

"Ah, well, that's the beauty of working as a mercenary, isn't it?" You crouched down, crossing your arms over your knees and leaning forward slightly over the bow, smiling. "Keeping a low profile. I've never spent long enough with any single crew to gain notoriety."

"Then what a lucky little thing you've been." He leaned forward against the bow, glancing around to ensure that no one was nearby, and then curled a hand behind the nape of your neck to briefly press his lips to yours. "Just be careful."

"I promise not to cause you any unnecessary paperwork," you said lightly, smirking. You pressed your lips to his once more before pulling back, his hand slipping away from your neck. "Hopefully your master won't keep you too long."

His mouth turned down in a frown as you grinned. "Don't push it, dear."

"Woof woof."

It took every ounce of his self-control not to seize you by your wrist and pull you right back onto the sloop—but he refrained, shaking his head a little as you straightened out. Your present locale was a bit too public, but it would be a different story when he had you alone later.

You cheekily blew a kiss, and Mihawk lifted an eyebrow, waving one hand in a shooing motion.

"Oh, so cold," you sighed, poking your bottom lip out in a small pout.

"I'd prefer to wait for the real thing."

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly, and his eyes trailed after you as you strolled down the dock and toward town. Still infuriating and intriguing in euqal measure, but Mihawk knew you were capable of handling yourself. If you detested Marines as much as you claimed, there was no doubt you would handle your business in town and return to the docks as quickly as possible.

The shipwright arrived minutes later, an old amicable and heavily bearded man who quickly assessed the damages to the dock and quickly wrote up an invoice. After maneuvering the small ship to the neighboring undamaged dock Mihawk carried a small chest of berry over his shoulder to the Marine base at the center of the town, and turned down escort to the vice admiral's office; he knew his way around well enough.

A cadet opened the door when he knocked, and left after him. Mihawk dropped the chest onto the heavy desk at the center of the sprawling office before rempving Yoru from his back. He took a seat, reclining back in the chair across from the old vice admiral, staring levelly at him.

"For the damages at the docks," said Mihawk, gesturing toward the chest as Garp briefly lifted the lid and looked back across the desk. "The estimate was twelve thousand. You'll find at least fifteen. For the inconvenience."

"Good enough." He push the chest aside to one end of the desk, and leaned forward against it. "You know why I asked you to come by, Mihawk."

"I'm afraid you'll have to enlighten me." He crossed one of his ankles over his oposite knee, folding his hands together. "I presume it must be important. I have a perfectly good transponder that could be utilized for lesser matters."

Garp leaned back in his chair, rubbing a hand into his eyes in clear frustration. "The past couple assignments you've been assigned," he said. "You've sent someone else to complete them."

"I have," he allowed, and lifted his eyebrows. "As I know your other Warlords have done plenty."

"The other six Warlords have crew that are known by the World Government. You don't." Garp leaned an elbow into the arm of his chair, his brow furrowing. "I've heard a few descriptions. I also know the girl's in town. I could send word right now for her to be brought in on sight." Mihawk's brow furrowed as well, his posture tensing the slightest bit, watching as Garp shifted forward again and picked up a pen from his desk. "If you're taking associates under your wing, it's as much your business as it is the Wirld Government's business." He tapped at the paper in front of him, glancing down at it. "Young woman. Late teens to early twenties. Between five-foot-two and five-foot-four inches tall, carries two daggers and a handful of throwing knives. Sound accurate so far?"

"Yes," Mihawk replied through his teeth as he watched Garp write, all at once wondering just how much he honestly valued his alliance with the World Government. One single wrong answer, one wrong move, and Garp could send word down to have you taken into custody. For years Mihawk hadn't had a thing to worry about where this alliance was concerned. Nothing that could be held against him.

He drew in a slow breath, fighting to keep his temper in check in the confines of the vast office.

"Is there anything else?" he asked lightly, lifting his eyebrows.

"Brown leather tricorne hat," Garp went on, his eyes level with Mihawk's. He set the pen down. "A square patch sewn onto the left side of the brim. Couple more on the back." He lifted his eyebrows as Mihawk's drew down in a sharp line. "Hates Marines with a burning passion, I'd guess."

He still kept his mouth shut, his eyes locked onto Garp's as the old vice admiral stared back.

"Your honesty on the subject is tantamount to this girl's continued freedom," he said.

"Yes," Mihawk said again, finally. "I can't seem to see the issue here. She doesn't have a bounty."

"And she won't." He watched Garp pick up his report and crumble it into a ball. He tossed it across the desk, and Mihawk caught it. "So long as the correct people remain in power and she doesn't do anything stupid."

Mihawk glanced at the ball of paper in his hand, and back across at Garp. "Why?"

"She hasn't said?" He gave a hearty laugh. "Ask her how the Marines ruined her life. I'd bet you'll get quite an earful." He shrugged a shoulder. "Or a dagger to the throat, if she takes after her grandmother."

You had mentioned being raised by your grandmother—and being trained by her. Garp bent down in his chair slightly, pulling a drawer out behind his desk, and shutting it. He straightened back out and slid a yellowed old sheet of paper across the desk, torn and crumbled and faded.

A wanted poster. Mihawk lifted it from the desk, scanning over it, over the picture and the name beneath, his brow lifting a bit at the bounty—two billion, six hundred thousand berries.

"Helena Lionne."

At the sketch of a woman that resembled you so remarkably, grinning widely, tilting back the tricorne hat atop her head with an equally familiar dagger. Mihawk glanced up to see the old vice admiral lighting a cigar.

"They called her 'The Siren,'" he said. "She was the big game in town before Roger. We lost count of how many Marines she either killed or seduced. Only reason her bounty didn't rival Roger's is because she never attacked us unless we went after her first. Came out of nowhere, took the Grand Line by storm for a few years, then vanished. As good as anybody can guess now, that was when she decided to start a family. Settled down in a little village on an uncharted island with half of her crew and spent decades off the radar.

"The Admiral that finally found her ten years ago had a personal vendetta. She'd killed his father in front of him while she was still active and then personally delivered his head on a pike to the World Government Headquarters as a warning. They fought it out for a couple days. Destroyed the whole village before he got a hold of her granddaughter and used her as leverage. He never planned on taking her in alive. Slit her throat right in front of the girl and carried her head back to headquarters, along with a few members of her crew that managed to survive, and left the kid there to rot just to add insult to injury."

Mihawk's eyes only left Garp occasionally to glance back down at the old bounty poster. The woman who had raised you. Who you had witnessed murdered and decapitated by a psychotic Marine admiral driven by revenge ten years ago before being left to die simply for sharing her blood.

And now you were wandering a town full of Marines on your own.

God dammit.

"It didn't sit very well with his superiors," said Garp, as Mihawk folded the wanted posted and stuck it in his pocket, remaining silent as he waited for the man to finish. "None of it did. He and the entire crew he took along for the ride were stripped of their merit, discharged, arrested for murder. It took two weeks of interrogation for him to give up the location of the island. Took a few more days to get there from Marineford. Whole island was practically a rock. Not even damn tree left standing. Fourteen year old girl on her own for two and a half weeks, I figured she'd be dead, but her grandma apparently taught her a little more than anyone expected." He shook his head with a scoff, puffing on his cigar. "Little shit had made a spear to catch fish out of a throwing knife and a shovel handle she found in the wreckage. She was halfway finished building a goddamned raft. Kicked and fought the whole way back to the ship. We had to put her in the brig and take her knives because she was threatening to kill any and every Marine she could get her hands on. We still hadn't even figured out what to do with her when she managed to charm some poor fifteen year old cadet into stealing her weapons back and helping her escape on a dinghy. Just as bad as her damned grandmother. I figured she was dead meat then, but I guess she's done pretty well for herself."

"So it seems." Mihawk had no trouble keeping a straight face and a calm demeanor in almost any situation. His stoney expression didn't shift or twitch once while he listened, his posture remaining relaxed as he leaned back in the chair with his hands folded over his stomach. Yet the more Garp said, the more anxious he was growing to get back to you. "As much as I love our little chats, Garp, I do have prior engagements. I'm sure you didn't call me all the way here to just to provide me anecdotes about my, ah, assistant's personal history."

"Yeah, yeah," said Garp gruffly. "You've got a few assignments." Cigar clamped between his teeth, he shifted a few papers around on his desk and found a thick envelope. He tossed it across the desk at Mihawk, who lifted a single hand and caught it without any real effort. "They'll have you headed for the Grand Line. Off the record, I'd appreciate it if you kept an ear out for anything about Luffy. If he you hear he's come in contact with Fire Fist Ace, give me a call."

"Is that all?" Garp held his hands out and gave a short nod, leaning back in his chair and pulling his cigar from his mouth. "Good." Mihawk stood, lifting his sword from beside the chair. "I wish I could say it's been pleasant seeing you."

"Ah, yeah, same to ya." He sighed, making a shooing motion toward the door. "Cold bastard."

"Yes, well." He finished securing Yoru to his back, glancing at Garp. "One doesn't become known as one of the most powerful men in the world by behaving like a bleeding heart fool. That being said...."

He rest his elbow on the back of the chair for a moment, leaning to the side against it.

"Your old psychotic comrade." Garp puffed at his cigar, waiting. "I assume he's the one who gave her the scars?"

"Scars?" He took one last puff, putting out his cigar and furrowing his brow. Garp shook his head slowly. "Well, she had one when we found her. Here." He tapped the side of his neck, a couple inches away from a major artery. "He gave her that one. Planned on slitting her throat if Helena didn't cooperate. Apart from that...." He shook his head and shrugged. "Can't say I'm aware of any others."

Mihawk tapped at the back of the chair for a moment. As clearly perplexed as he was, there was no doubt that Garp was telling the truth. Answers that only led to more questions—this run-around was quickly getting old. He straightened back out.

"I shall contact you once I've finished my chores," Mihawk said finally, waving the envelope before tucking it into his coat. Garp just rolled his eyes, making another shooing motion.

"Feel free to let the door hit you in the ass on the way out."

"Of course."

As soon as he emerged into the empty hall outside the office and shut the door, Mihawk leaned against the wall and rubbed at the bridge of his nose with a quiet growl of frustration. His head was beginning to pound at the onslaught of information Garp had shoved down his throat in the duration of their brief meeting.

Your history, the beginning of your life outside the confines of the law was stained in blood and riddled with the horrors of man—and yet you hadn't mentioned a word of it before strolling off into a town infested with Marines. Nothing except the fact that you detested them and wished to conclude your business here as quickly as possible, indicating that those old wounds weren't entirely healed.

And still no answer to explain those damned scars—and he doubted you were going to open up to that discussion very easily.

(Ch. 3)

#opla #one piece fanfiction #dracule mihawk #fanfic #mihawk one piece #mihawk opla #one piece headcanons #fluff #mihawk x reader #smut

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