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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 1 month

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It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader

[Chapter 21] || [Chapter 22.5] || [Chapter 23]

Pairing: Ghost x Price || Price x Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.8K cw: drunk kissing, cheating (mentioned) Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: we find out what happened in cardiff. i love vulnerable john.

Chapter 22: What is it about you?

“C’mon, Boss, up you go.” Simon told him as he hoisted the man up to his feet by wrapping an arm around the small of his back, and tossing the other over his own shoulders.

“I don’t know how she could do that to me, Simooooon,” John’s words and feet dragged a bit and tripped over each other, uncoordinated due to the excess alcohol.

John was constantly self-sabotaging back then, feeling sorry for himself, mourning his relationship and the wife who took advantage of his common absences to justify her need to step out on him.

When John was sober and busy with work, he was still the same as always: deadly efficient, a good communicator, a great strategist…

But when they went on leave…

It left Simon having to be the one picking up the pieces. Simon’s moved to Cardiff from Manchester many years ago, not quite enjoying Hereford enough to want an off-base flat in the same city as the base, and, now that he’s separated, John’s also moved to Cardiff to stay on Simon’s couch.

Or it would be his couch if he didn’t get pissed every night and leave Simon fearing for his life and the fact he might vomit and suffocate in it in the night, so he carries him to bed every time. The bed might as well have been John’s at that point.

Somehow he was able to wrangle John back to his flat.

He helped the man get into his bedroom and lowered him into bed before he pulled off the beanie from his head, then his boots, tossing his legs onto the bed a bit aggressively while the captain sobbed while lying back on the pillows…

“You’ll be alright, Captain.” Simon always tried to say some kind words to ease the drunk, heartbroken man, though he knew it did little.

Simon was strangely thankful Price was a sad drunk instead of an angry or violent one like his own father.

Simon bent over him to unzip his jacket and then was able to curl the man up against his shoulder in order to shimmy his jacket down his arms, like a toddler.

But something about that touch, almost akin to a hug, awoke something in John.

Just as he lowered the older man’s torso down to the bed and his head onto the pillows, he suddenly found himself unable to move, his shoulders being hugged tight by one of John’s arms.

His face was inches from John’s, their noses almost touching, their eyes locked. John’s blue irises were glassy from the alcohol and the tears.

The look in John’s eyes was freaking him out. He was still crying, but he was eerily quiet, not murmuring utter nonsense or pure vitriol for his wife and her lover…

The Mancunian tried to slip John’s arms off him. “C’mon.” He grumbled as he craned his neck back to try and wrangle off the embrace.

“Stay…” John pleaded, his eyes softening, his brows lowered pitifully.

“I’m right here, Boss.” Simon assured him as he once again tried to take Price’s arm off his vise-like grip around him.

It didn’t work. The grip just got tighter, his body trembling beneath Simon’s. “Please, stay...” He implored.

Before Simon could realize what was happening, his lips had been captured by John’s, a slow, tender thing, almost like John himself wasn’t 100% sure of what he was doing (and he really wasn’t) but wanted to do it nonetheless.

There was no tongue action, just a rubbing of lips and an exchanging of breathy sighs before Simon was smart enough to pull away, eyes a bit widened for what they had just done.

But Price seemed like he was still on the verge of crying, teetering the edge of his fear of being rejected again. He just needed affection....

Simon’s own eyes softened as he saw the state Price was in. He took a deep breath and pressed his lips together. Giving up on getting out of the embrace, he simply nodded. “Fine. I’m stayin’.”

Carefully, Simon toed off his own shoes and took off his fleece jacket. He tossed everything on the floor haphazardly, before he shifted around the bed in John’s embrace and vaulted over him, coming to lay on the other side of the bed.

John cuddled up to Simon’s body and, tentatively, the blond wrapped his arms around Price’s shoulders and neck as the brunet sunk in the embrace and hid his mustachioed face in Simon’s neck, big burly arms wrapped around the narrower part of his waist.

Price resumed his sobbing, hidden in Simon’s arms, hugging him uncomfortably tight, like a lifeguard buoy in open water.

Simon ran his fingers over John’s hair, caressing his scalp with his fingertips. “Not going anywhere, John, I promise.” Simon assured him.

It’s 10 P.M. and you’re just turning off your TV to move your lounging to the bedroom when the doorbell rings.

Once again, you’re not expecting anyone… But the lads have gotten much better at warning you in advance when they’re dropping by… So it puts you on edge again.

Tip-toeing to the intercom, you murmur into the receiver. “What?”

“It’s John, darling.” The voice of the older man comes through, causing your eyes to widen. What’s he doing here?

You buzz him in all the same. Only once you hear his knuckles rapping the door, do you open it, finding him standing on the other side.

He’s wearing an army green fleece jacket, a black hoodie, tan cargo pants, and black boots. And he doesn’t look particularly happy.

You let him inside and he has the decency to take off his boots, jacket and beanie, before he gestures you both onto the couch.

The memory of the way he kissed you and tossed you both down onto it last time he was here comes flowing back and you look away and take a breath to suppress it.

“The lads told me about the four of you” He tells you as he looks at you, sitting by your side, your knees just barely brushing, his hands clasped together and hanging between his thighs.

“They did?” You ask him, earning a nod in reply. “You didn’t know this whole time?” You ask again.

“No.” He says simply. “And they didn’t tell you I tore ‘em a new one for what they’re doing?” He returns.

You shake your head, which makes him sigh. “Figured as much.”

“You need to know that-”

“I promise I don’t-”

You both cut each other off and blink away the confusion before you do that weird shimmy of trying to let the other talk.

He ends up taking the initiative. “You need to know that it’s puttin’ ‘em all at risk to be seein’ you and each other, especially each other. Simon’s my second-in-command… and it’s against the code of conduct for ‘em to be with their ‘boss’.” He explains.

His explanation makes your eyes soften and you look away with a sigh, mirroring his pose and letting your hands hang between your legs. “I didn’t know it’d get ‘em in trouble…” You explain.

Taking another deep breath, you shift around in your seat. “I was about to say I promise I don’t want to get them in trouble or steal them from work or making you have to call like… dozens of times again to get them to come in, because I know that was bad, even if it was an accident but-” You rant a bit.

John’s watching you closely as you justify yourself and them and promise you have the best of intentions, how you like them all so much and you could never dream of getting them in trouble and…

“What is it about you?” He interrupts you, causing you to face him suddenly and stare at him.

“Pardon?” You ask him, blinking slowly before raising your brows.

“Why… Why them? All of them?” He asks.

Your face scrunches a bit, your brow setting over your eyes. “Are you trying to insult me? That feels insulting.” You grumble.

He sighs and shakes his head, before rubbing his eyes with his middle finger. “No. I- I’m sorry.” He says as earnestly as he can. “Just trying to understand.”

“Some people have a thing for men in uniform but that means they date multiple of ‘em across a number of years… They don’t usually form a… harem with ‘em all at once.” He explains.

The idea of a harem makes your face flush warm and look away. “I don’t know.” You reply directly. “Maybe there’s just something wrong with me.” You say directly.

John keeps staring at you as you speak. “I went from a very unfulfilling relationship, I don’t know if I ever mentioned that to you-”

“You did, at the pub.”

“Right, well…” You trail off. “I went from that to… being alone… and then to having a one-night stand with you and then… it was like I woke up one day and had three boyfriends.” You remark and scratch your arm awkwardly.

John’s face scrunches, his mouth disappearing beneath his mustache as he keeps looking at you closely, noticing how awkward you seem.

“I really don’t want to get them in trouble…” You tell him as you glance up at him, the corners of your eyebrows lowering as you look at him.

He goes quiet for a moment, simply making eye contact with you, as if trying to read your intentions through your pupils.

Then, his hand reaches across the space between you and he gently cups both your hands, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “You really like ‘em all, don’t you?”

“Mhm.” You reply and nod.

Sighing, he nods. “Just try to keep from kissing in public to a minimum, will ya? Don’t need the brass knowing and having my arse too.” He tells you.

Smiling and chuckling again. “Wouldn’t you, in that case, be in more trouble because you started this whole thing?” You joke.

He nudges your thigh with his knee and rolls his eyes playfully. “Don’t you start, too… I already had to deal with Soap, Gaz and Ghost making comments.” He complains.

“Oh, please… Ghost told me all about how peppy you seemed after that night you spent with me.” You retort and he rolls his eyes again before he taps his thighs with his palms and stands up off the couch.

“I needed it. Did me good.” He replies as he moves back to the door and puts his shoes on.

You follow after him, watching him closely as he puts his outdoor clothes back on. “Did me good too.” You reply.

He chuckles a bit. “Oh, trust me, darlin’, I remember fully well how ‘good’ I did you.” He jokes and winks at you.

“Oh, shut it…” You grumble as you watch him open your door and stand just outside of it, looking at you closely.

“Shame it’ll never happen again. I could’ve used a repeat.” John quips casually. “Have a goodnight.” He kisses your temple and starts walking down the hall.

“Wait, hold on!” You interrupt him, causing him to stop a few feet away, looking at you in the brightly lit hall. Clearing your throat, you swallow dryly before you lock eyes with him and speak again: “What’s stopping it from happening again?”

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FLASHBACK FULLY INSPIRED BY:

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ginnsbaker · 2 months

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fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (1/?)

“I'm sorry, I'm not sure I understand,” you say, hands retreating into the pockets of your white coat. Leigh takes a deep breath, steeling herself for what she knows will be a difficult conversation.

“I recently found out that my husband was cheating on me,” she says, her green eyes boring into yours. “With you.” Or the one where you fall in love with the widow of an ex-lover you never knew was married.

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 6k+ | Warnings: None for now | A/N: I wrote about 30k words of the Succession Wanda but hit a wall in terms of plot progression. So that's on hold. Allow me to apologize with this two-shot. P.S. I've always wanted to write for Leigh, and this idea came out of nowhere. Loosely based on canon.

Masterlist | Next Part

Leigh wakes up in a bed that’s not hers for the first time in months, and the unfamiliar scent of freshly cut grass and cedarwood almost immediately overwhelms her senses, suffocating her with its cloying sweetness.

“Jules?” she croaks out, her mind clawing its way through the fog. When it lifts a few seconds later, Leigh realizes where she is and what she’s done.

And how she’s very, very naked underneath the sheets.

The person lying next to her in the bed starts to move. Right away, she knows it's not her sister, unless she's somehow caught up in a prank she doesn't find amusing at all. And so, she braces herself for her dead husband’s brother's voice to shatter the silence.

But it never comes. Instead, an arm drapes itself across her stomach, pulling her towards warmth. Leigh gets the sudden urge to vomit, except she skipped dinner and there isn’t anything to bring up. Last night, in a desperate attempt to fill the void left by Matt's absence, she had reached out to someone she shouldn't have. Someone Leigh didn’t even like to begin with. A knot tightens further in her stomach as she considers what her husband’s ghost would think.

Would he approve? Would he feel betrayed or disgusted as she does?

Careful not to disturb Danny, who still sleeps soundly beside her, Leigh slips out of bed with the grace of a cat. She gathers her clothes from the floor and dresses herself with heavy limbs, each garment reminding her of how Danny had taken them off her body.

As messed up as it sounds, Leigh can't help but draw parallels between him and Matt. They share the same blood, but there's not a single trait in Danny that triggers memories of Matt. With Danny, it's all about his own desires, his movements reflecting his wants. But with Matt, it's like he's always bending to Leigh’s will, submitting to her.

It tears Leigh’s heart anew.

As she finishes dressing, Leigh glances around searching for her watch. She second-guesses whether she even wore it last night, the disarray of her thoughts mirrored in the disarray of the room. Her eyes scan the bedside table, the floor, and the dresser, but there's no sign of the timepiece.

A sudden sound from Danny startles her, and she freezes in place. She doesn't believe she can prevent herself from literally bolting out of the house if he so much as breathes her name. She’s rooted in her spot however, waiting for his breathing to steady, her heart pounding in her ears. Only when she's certain he's in a deep slumber does she release a pent-up breath, a sigh of relief escaping her lips. In that moment, she mentally curses herself once more, acutely aware of the mess she's created, before tiptoeing towards the bedroom door and abandoning the search for her watch altogether.

As she considers her options, she entertains the idea of escaping town altogether. Maybe if she leaves, she can avoid Danny for the coming days, possibly forever. Leigh wonders if she ever made Matt feel this trapped, inadvertently pushing him to leave in the only way he knew she could never follow.

Several days after ignoring Danny’s calls and attempts to talk to her, he retaliates by telling her the most absurd thing about his brother.

He tells Leigh she wasn’t the only one. There had been two others in the last year.

And the last one, he fell for hard. Or at least that’s what Danny believes.

“I don’t believe you,” she says, her eyes beginning to sting a little. “If you think making me hate Matt would change my mind about us, then—”

“I’m not trying to manipulate you, Leigh,” Danny interrupts calmly, shaking his head. “I just believe you deserve to know the truth. Maybe it'll help you stop blaming yourself and move on.”

“It just seems a little too convenient that this 'truth' works in your favor to tarnish Matt's reputation, doesn't it?” Leigh points out with a humorless smile. She’s always thought the worst of Danny, but she never imagined he’d go as far as fabricating a story just to get her on his side.

“I understand your skepticism, I do. I couldn’t believe it at first either,” he says, his gaze dropping to the ground as if the transgression he’s confessing were his own, not Matt’s. “But think about it. Have you ever walked in on Matt just as he's ending a call? Noticed how he's suddenly started spending more time at work, consistently twice a week? And what about his sudden interest in going to the gym and being conscious about what he eats? These are all signs, Leigh.”

His words push her to think about it, even though she doesn't want to. Leigh starts to reflect on how Matt had stopped leaving his phone unattended during showers, how he had suddenly logged off his social media accounts from her laptop, or the noticeable enhancement of his physique—all juxtaposed against a lingering decrease in his appetite for intimacy with his wife.

“I…” Leigh hesitates, searching for a rebuttal but finding none. Then Danny gives her a look—one of pity and longing that makes her want to crawl out of her skin—and suddenly she finds herself vehemently denying all of it.

“I still don’t believe you,” she says, desperately clinging to the last shreds of the illusion she had crafted around her marriage.

Danny's expression remains unreadable and it drives her further up the wall. “Fine. Believe what you want, Leigh. I'm just trying to look out for you.”

Leigh's jaw tightens. “Regardless of what you say—whether it’s real or not—I know what I want, and it's not to be with you.”

He keeps up the stony facade, opting instead to pull a card out of his wallet and hand it to her. Leigh accepts the card, her fingers quivering, as a solitary tear finally breaks free and trails down her cheek.

Danny begins to reach out, intending to brush away her tear, but hesitates at the last moment, withdrawing his hand.

“See for yourself. Goodbye, Leigh.”

Just two days later, Leigh finds herself in front of the small animal clinic you own, situated a short walk away from Beautiful Beast—the fitness studio her mom owns and where she works.

Though the sun hangs low in the sky, she's been awake long before it began to rise. She waits for the receptionist to flip the sign from “Sorry, we’re closed” to “Come in, we’re open,” ignoring the curious glance directed her way when the receptionist notices she isn’t accompanied by a furry companion. With a determined smile on her lips, Leigh pushes open the door and steps into the clinic knowing she'll leave it with answers—whatever they might be.

The receptionist looks up from her computer, her expression shifting from curiosity to concern when she sees the look on Leigh's face. “Can I help you?”

Leigh clears her throat, trying to steady her voice. She tells her she’s looking for you, her words coming out in a rush.

The receptionist furrows her brow. “Do you have an appointment?”

Leigh shakes her head, blinking rapidly as she comes up with an excuse. “No, it's... it's urgent,” she stammers. “I need to speak to her right away.”

The receptionist appears mildly annoyed, but it doesn’t faze Leigh in the slightest. “I'll check if she's available. Please take a seat,” she says.

Leigh nods mutely and sinks into one of the chairs. She clasps her hands together tightly in her lap, trying to quell the rising tide of panic threatening to consume her. She imagines Matt’s ghost watching her this very second, frowning at her doubts about their relationship by coming here in the first place.

And what if she’s wrong? What if Matt wasn’t cheating on her after all? But Leigh had to come here to put the issue to rest. Matt would understand why she needs to do this. He always did.

A few moments later, the door behind the reception desk opens and the receptionist emerges from it, motioning for Leigh to enter.

Leigh finds you standing behind your desk, your back to her, arranging a stack of medical records on the shelf.

“Dr. Y/N?” Leigh calls out softly.

You turn around at the sound of her voice, and when she sees you for the first time, Leigh immediately knows.

Danny was telling the truth. It takes everything in her not to break down in front of a stranger her husband fell in love with.

You, however, don’t recognize the woman standing before you, thinking perhaps she's simply one of your past clients. You offer Leigh a contrite smile. “You wanted to see me? Miss…?”

“Leigh Shaw.”

The name doesn’t ring a bell either, but you keep a friendly smile on your face.

Leigh hesitates for a moment before continuing, her voice sounding fragile. “I need to talk to you about my husband,” she says, studying your clueless face. You're stunning and accomplished—a doctor and a businesswoman. You have a smile that could brighten even the darkest room.

Matt never stood a chance, did he?

“I'm sorry, I'm not sure I understand,” you say, hands retreating into the pockets of your white coat.

Leigh takes a deep breath, steeling herself for what she knows will be a difficult conversation.

“I recently found out that my husband was cheating on me,” she says, her green eyes boring into yours. “With you.”

After leaving your clinic, Leigh heads straight to Matt’s grave, stomping angrily on the sparse sheet of grass that has begun to sprout from his resting place.

“You're such a fucking liar!” she spits out at the unsusceptible headstone, the heat of fury spreading through her veins and to every molecule in her body. The cold wind lashes through her hair as Leigh drops to her knees, feeling like the entire world is bearing down on her. She reaches out to touch the cold marble of the headstone, still seeking solace from the one who caused her so much hurt.

“Why, Matt?”

She knows there will be no answers—only the cold silence of death.

Leigh feels a surge of anger rise within her once more as she recalls the way you looked at her—the pain in your eyes when she revealed to you that Matt had died. What you two had was real, as real as what she had with him. She had been hoping it was at least just a fling, but alas, she couldn’t be further from her assumptions.

“I can't believe I ever loved you,” Leigh mutters bitterly. She wants to scream, to rage against the injustice of it all. But all she can do is clutch at the grass beneath her, her nails digging into the earth as if trying to anchor herself against the torrent of pain crippling her chest. Tears stream down her face as she finally collapses to the ground, assuming a fetal position, whispering, “I can't believe I still do.”

You continue to stare at the space that Leigh previously occupied for a good ten minutes, not moving an inch from where you stood—shocked, hurt, confused. Matt, the man you had been seeing, was dead. And not just dead, but married. Married to someone else, someone named Leigh Shaw, a name so important but he managed to hide from you for weeks.

Matt had never mentioned a wife, never wore a ring, never hinted at the existence of someone waiting for him at home. If he had, you would never have let him get as close to you like he did. You've always respected boundaries and families—and now you've discovered that unwittingly, you've destroyed one.

Leigh's departure was swift, just as soon as you confessed to having feelings for her husband and how Matt reciprocated those same feelings. Leigh, ruthless in her questioning, demanded to know if you had slept with Matt. You swore you never did, detailing how Matt abruptly ghosted you after your first kiss, leaving you with nothing but unanswered texts and missed calls.

You wanted so badly for Leigh to believe you, and you think she did. However, none of it mattered in the end. He cheated all the same. He hurt the woman he made a promise to love and stay faithful to.

Because of you.

You feel sickened by your own naivety; by the way you have allowed yourself to be fooled by his lies. And yet, amidst the anger and self-recrimination, there is a profound sense of loss. Despite the circumstances of your relationship, you had cared for Matt deeply. Maybe even loved him.

But how much of it was real? How much of it was not about him running from his problems with his wife and using you as a distraction? The ease with which he slipped out of your life suddenly fits into place.

While his passing deeply rattled you, it's now largely overshadowed by thoughts of his widow.

Leigh Shaw.

Earlier, even though you said sorry over and over, it felt like it wasn't enough, and you wanted to do more to make her feel better. What stopped you was the realization that you're likely the last person she would want comfort from. A sense of helplessness washes over you as you come to the conclusion that there's nothing you can do to undo the damage that's been done. Matt is gone, and Leigh's world has been shattered in ways you can't even begin to imagine.

Moving on from Matt is something you know you could do. He wasn’t the first person to break your heart, be it through deceit or demise. But the situation with Leigh is unfamiliar territory.

How do you fix this for her?

Will she even let you?

When Leigh tells Jules about Matt’s infidelity, her sister fixates on the detail that she slept with Danny. It’s not the response Leigh expected. She anticipated shock, and maybe even a bit of outrage on her behalf. But instead, Jules latches onto the one detail that seems to pale in comparison to the enormity of Matt's betrayal.

“But how could you?” Jules asks, her voice incredulous as she chews on a dumpling. “How could you sleep with Danny?”

Faced with her sister's disapproval, Leigh finds herself clamming up. “Are you kidding? I just told you that Matt was cheating on me, and your response is to judge me for hooking up with a single guy while I'm single?” Leigh retorts, hastily wiping her lips with a napkin.

Jules just shakes her head, putting down her chopsticks. “Leigh, I get it. Matt’s betrayal is awful, and you have every right to be angry. But the ‘single guy’ you hooked up with isn't just any guy, and you know it. You don't think it's weird? What would people think? That all this time, sleeping with your husband’s brother has always been an option?”

Leigh's eyes widen in shock, and for a moment, she's speechless. She hadn't—didn't want to entertain the idea of what sleeping with Danny would imply. She was chasing a feeling; any feeling that wasn’t emptiness. And with Danny, she did feel something, even if it was regret and shame. At least it proved she was still capable of feeling at all.

“It… just happened,” Leigh murmurs, rubbing her temples. Hollowness and migraines, she's almost forgotten.

“And? Is it going to be a ‘thing’?” Jules probes, eyebrows raised.

Leigh lifts her gaze, biting back a defensive retort. Instead she simply says, “Absolutely not.”

Jules seems satisfied with that, knocking back the rest of her beer. “Good.”

But as Jules moves on, Leigh’s left stewing in her own thoughts. Telling Jules felt like yelling into a void—exhausting and utterly pointless. Now she’s dreading the thought of breaking the news to Drew. If Jules’ reaction was any indication, she’s in for another round of disappointment.

Being a young widow already sets her apart, but nothing makes her feel more alone than her family's inability to truly grasp her grief. She guesses she's been feeling alone for years, long before Matt came into her life and subsequently left it.

Jules, catching the tail end of Leigh's distant look, leans in and asks, “So, what's the plan now? You still going to that grief counseling group? Danny's been showing up there, right?”

Leigh's gaze sharpens, a bit taken aback by the sudden shift back to practicalities. “Are you asking about my plans with Danny? Because I already told you, that's over. I'm never seeing him again.”

Jules raises her hands in a placating gesture, mindful that one wrong move could tip Leigh over the edge for good. “Not really, no. I'm asking if you're still keen on processing your grief. Now that it turns out Matt was... well, a snake.”

Jules calling Matt a snake doesn't sit well with Leigh even with his cheating coming to light. But she supposes it's Jules' way of being on her side every once in a while. It's a clumsy attempt, but an attempt nonetheless.

“Yeah, I'm still going,” Leigh finally says, her gaze dropping to her lap before meeting Jules' eyes again. “Not for Danny, not for anyone else, but for me. Turns out, finding out your rotting husband was living a double life does a number on you. Who knew, right?”

Jules cracks a small, rueful smile at that and says, “Who knew indeed.”

Leigh thinks back to the time when she believed she knew Matt inside and out, a belief so deeply ingrained it felt like a cornerstone of her identity as his wife. She prided herself on their connection, convinced that they shared everything—every thought, every fear, every dream. It was a pride rooted in the belief that she knew him better than anyone else could, and he, her, in the same intimate manner.

It was the kind of recognition that’s not only about knowing his favorite color or the way he took his coffee. It’s deeper and more layered. She knew the exact tone of voice he'd use when he was about to apologize, the look in his eyes when he was holding back tears, the subtle shift in his posture when he was trying to be braver than he felt. And she thought he knew her just as intricately—the silent language of her sighs, the meaning behind her quietest smiles, the small, everyday details that they believed only they could understand about each other.

“It's hard, you know? Feeling like you're mourning someone who never really existed,” Leigh mumbles after a long pause.

“Yeah, I can't even imagine,” Jules responds, reaching across the table to give Leigh's hand a brief squeeze. “But I'm here, okay? Even if I don't always get it right.”

Jules, Drew, Danny, her mom—all of them—rarely get it right. It has always been Matt.

He has always been all she has and needed.

Even if Leigh wasn't aware that she was probably just getting his scraps.

Maybe it was me, Leigh keeps thinking over the next several days. Maybe I pushed him to it.

It doesn’t help that there’s a new member who has also been widowed, and she’s sharing about her late husband who had quite a number of mistresses throughout their eighteen years of marriage.

Leigh listens, her fingers twisted together in her lap, as the woman talks about the signs she missed, the lies she believed.

“I just keep thinking,” the woman's voice breaks, “if I'd been more attentive, more... I don't know, less demanding, maybe things would've been different.”

Maybe it was me, Leigh keeps screaming inside. Maybe I pushed him to it.

It took Leigh a long time to return to the apartment she shared with Matt after his passing.

Mostly, it's because Leigh found it difficult to confront the scattered remnants of him that would remain untouched in his absence. No longer would he be picking up his favorite shirt or completing another page of his crossword puzzle book. Yet, these belongings would remain his, just as Leigh felt she still belonged to him.

So it’s ironic that now, surrounded by the same belongings in her bedroom at her mother’s home, she's being overwhelmed by the impulse to turn them all into ashes. In a sudden frenzy, Leigh grabs a box and begins to throw everything inside. The sound of her ragged breathing fills the room, only matched by the soft thuds of objects landing in the cardboard.

“Stupid fucking toys!” she shouts, tossing a figurine with more force than necessary.

“And this shirt—what were you thinking?” She grabs a garishly patterned fabric, shaking it at the empty air as if expecting an answer.

Her voice cracks, “You're not even here, and you're driving me crazy!”

As Leigh's wrath burns through the remnants of Matt’s life, her thoughts take a dark turn. The things he owned, the pieces of his life flying from her hand—it all leads her back to the one person who had a piece of him, a piece that was never hers.

The thought of your face, the one that belonged to him too at one point, flashes in her mind, and she's on the edge of losing all control.

If only Leigh could throw you into the box too.

Finally, she finds the book he gave her for her last birthday, the one she never read, and for a moment, her movements pause. Then, with a cry of anguish, she tosses it in as well. When the box is full, she kicks it. Once, twice, thrice—each kick releasing a burst of pent-up fury until she's gasping for breath.

A knock at the door startles her. It's soft but persistent, making it obvious that whoever is outside has heard the commotion in her room. “Leigh, honey, are you done in there?” Amy's voice seeps through the wood.

Leigh wipes at her eyes. “Almost. I, uh… just give me a minute,” she calls back. She’s not done—not really. But she’ll probably set the house on fire if she doesn’t stop here.

Pushing herself up, Leigh opens the door. She knows the sight she presents isn't pretty—eyes swollen red, nose a mess, and those dark circles. But her mom has seen this look more times than either would care to count.

“You okay?” her mom asks, though the answer's written all over Leigh's face.

Leigh shakes her head, no energy to pretend.

“Want some breakfast?”

Again, “No,” slips out.

Then, “Need a ride to the studio?” her mom tries again.

“Yes,” Leigh finds herself saying, clinging to the offer like a lifeline, a small acknowledgment that life, somehow, must go on.

The following day, Leigh looks at the box, then at everything around her. She mutters, “Screw this,” and starts pulling everything out of the box, putting it all back where it came from.

Leigh's back at running, not because she loves it, but because the sun insists on poking her awake before the rest of the world stirs. It's an old hobby, dusted off to fill the gaping mornings before her first yoga class.

It’s easy to do because she realizes she’s good at it. Leigh’s only been at it for just a couple of weeks and already she's feeling fitter, faster. She likes the pain too, not being aware before that there are different kinds of pain, and some of them do feel good—addicting even.

Mid-thought, her routine jog takes a wild left turn: stranded in the middle of the bustling traffic is a French Bulldog, looking decidedly out of place. Ignoring the honks and the near misses, Leigh bolts across the street. It's a bit of a mad dash, dodging cars that are swerving and braking hard. She scoops him up in her arms and doesn’t stop to think about the close calls.

It hits her then—she's surprised at her own gutsiness, not even pausing to think that she could've been clipped by a car not paying attention. Maybe all this time spent wrestling with thoughts of death has brought her to a strange peace with it and is no longer scared of it. It's like she's danced with death so much, it's just another shadow she passes by—not something that paralyzes her in place anymore.

Leigh’s not sure if being this fearless is actually a good thing though.

After cooling her heels on the sidewalk for half an hour, with no owner in sight, she shrugs and decides he’s coming home with her.

Jules gives her a scrutinizing look the moment she walks in. “What, you went out for a run and decided to get a dog?”

“Rescue mission,” Leigh shoots back, setting the dog down. “Found him in the middle of Second Street. Seems he’s lost.”

Jules doesn't miss a beat, heading straight for the newcomer. She kneels, her hands gently petting the dog, her eyes softening in a way that Leigh rarely sees. The dog, clearly pleased with the attention, wags its tail vigorously. Her eyes are practically giving her away, so it sounds almost funny when she looks up at Leigh and says, “Just don't get too attached, okay?”

“I won’t, which is why I named him Visitor. It’s temporary,” Leigh says with a smile, looking very proud of the name she came up with.

Jules chuckles, standing up and brushing off her knees. “Nerd. Matt would've gotten a kick out of that.”

The room just freezes at the mention of his name. Talking about Matt is like walking into a glass door you didn't see.

Jules tries to backpedal, “Hey, sorry, I—” But Leigh's quick to brush it off with a shrug.

“Don't worry about it. Let's just figure out where Visitor here belongs, okay?”

As they refocus on Visitor, Jules can't help but notice the way the dog favors one leg as he trots over to sit snugly between Leigh's legs, looking up at her with those big, trusting eyes. “Looks like he's got a bit of a limp,” Jules points out.

Leigh frowns and leans down to get a closer look, her fingers gently probing around Visitor's leg until she finds a tender spot. The moment she applies a little pressure, Visitor yelps, pulling away sharply and retreating a few steps.

Jules winces at the reaction. “Yeah, that's not good. Maybe we should take him to a vet?”

Leigh can barely hold back a grimace as her brain immediately links you to the situation.

“What's wrong?” Jules notices the sudden shift in Leigh’s mood. “There's St. Mary's Animal Clinic nearby. I heard they're great.”

That's your clinic. Leigh's throat tightens at the thought, the memories of her visit flooding back. “Are there others around here?”

Jules looks puzzled at the question. “I mean, I can look it up, but what's wrong with St. Mary's?”

Leigh considers whether she should tell Jules about meeting you. Part of her really knows it’s unfair to dislike you, especially if you genuinely didn't know Matt was married. But she knows Jules too well—tell her, and it'll turn into a whole thing. Leigh's not sure she's up for that drama.

Despite her reservations, Leigh decides to bite the bullet, her curiosity getting the better of her. Besides, if she can’t be brave enough to talk about this in her counseling group, she should probably at least tell Jules.

“Actually, Jules,” Leigh begins, “St. Mary's Animal Clinic is where... where she works.”

Jules's eyes widen in shock, her hand flying to her mouth. “Wait, you mean... you mean her, as in…?” she stammers, disbelief written all over her face.

“Yup,” Leigh confirms, smacking her lips forcefully.

“Oh my god—that bitch,” Jules spits out, her voice dripping with disdain before Leigh can even brace for impact.

“She didn’t know Matt’s married,” Leigh clarifies quickly.

“And you bought that?”

“I had a feeling she was telling the truth. Besides, I can’t imagine Matt being that brazen to pursue someone while married. He can be a little self-righteous sometimes,” Leigh says, only half-sure of her statement. Recently, she has to remind herself that maybe she never really knew him at all.

Then, an idea sparks in Jules's mind. “You know what?” she says, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Maybe this is a good opportunity. After all, she owes you one, right? Maybe she'll treat Visitor for free, to make up for being... well, you know.”

Leigh rubs her nose, skeptical of the idea. “I don't know, Jules. I don't want to impose…”

Jules leans in, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “I mean, if she's the reason you're hurting, maybe she should make it right?”

She isn't hurting because of you, not directly. That's why Jules’ suggestion hangs in the air, unappealing. Leigh remembers the pity in your eyes from that morning, and she doesn't want it. She doesn't want anything from you at all. Her resolve instantly hardens like ice.

“No,” Leigh finally says. “I don't want her charity. I'll pay for Visitor's bills myself. And I'll keep the receipts for when his real owners show up.” It's a decision that feels surprisingly empowering, a small reclaiming of control in a world that's felt off-kilter for too long.

Jules merely sighs; she knows better than to push Leigh when her mind’s made up.

“Have it your way.”

Leigh brings Visitor to St. Mary’s the very next day.

There's a certain set to her jaw, a readiness for something less than pleasant. She doesn’t need to go through reception this time because she spots you right away, escorting a client to the door, cradling their puppy in your arms. Seeing you with a pet makes Leigh realize why you’ve chosen this profession. You fit right in among the animals, she muses bitterly.

It's with a sense of satisfaction that she watches your smile dissipate as soon as your eyes land on hers.

She strides confidently towards you, dog in arms, forcing you to quickly hand off the puppy back to its owner. Yet, you recover with a swiftness that's begrudgingly admirable as you give her a look that’s equal parts professional and friendly—like you were actually looking forward to seeing her again.

“Good morning, Leigh. How can I help you?”

Without a word, Leigh extends the dog she’s carrying towards you, a silent transfer of trust, or perhaps, necessity. You gesture towards the consultation room, an invitation she accepts with a terse nod, following you into the space where you effortlessly shift into doctor mode.

As you begin to charm her dog, she can't help but narrow her eyes. It irks her, watching Visitor take to you instantly, as if you were old friends. “What's his name?” you ask, looking up at Leigh.

“Visitor.”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise at the name, just in time for your irises to capture the light seeping through the office blinds. They glow a hazel-brown, disarmingly so. Leigh forces herself to focus back on the purpose of her visit.

Leigh continues, “He’s limping on his left hind leg. I’d appreciate it if you can prescribe him something. I'll try not to take up too much of your time.”

Ignoring the undercurrent of Leigh's insinuation, your attention remains undividedly on Visitor. The well-being of the dog before you eclipses any personal sentiments, as it always does.

“I'm sorry, but before we can consider any medication, I need to examine him thoroughly. It's possible he might require some lab tests to rule out anything serious,” you tell her. Despite sounding apologetic, Leigh interprets it as your polite way of telling her to fuck off and let you do your job.

As you palpate the dog's leg carefully, you begin your routine questions. “Can you tell me his birthday? Any vaccination history?”

They’re basic, but they seem to catch Leigh off guard anyway. “He’s not mine. I found him on the street yesterday,” she reveals with a reluctant sigh.

The news prompts a more detailed response from you.

“I see. In that case, we should definitely line up some tests for Visitor. We need to ensure he doesn't have distemper or any other airborne virus that could be affecting his mobility,” you suggest, already mentally cataloging the necessary procedures.

You start detailing the tests you intend to perform, explaining their purposes and associated costs. Leigh is clearly deluged by it all and you decide to take pity on the poor woman by adding that it’s still up to her which tests to proceed with, if any at all.

“Your call, Leigh,” you tell her.

Leigh can't shake off the vibe that you're throwing a gauntlet down in front of her. It's like her inner competitor wakes up, refusing to back down. “Do all of them,” she declares, tipping her chin up towards you. “Whatever you think is best.”

“That’s a good decision. We’ll take care of it right away,” you say, already picking up the phone to call the reception for assistance.

Leigh's still trying to get a read on you. Was her arm twisted into this choice, or did you genuinely have Visitor's best interest at heart? She's not about to hand out trust like free samples, especially when she could end up misjudging you. It’s a tricky spot, especially because she’s clearly been wrong before.

The tests take their time, roughly an hour, after which Leigh finds herself pacing the lobby. An additional quarter-hour trickles by before the receptionist finally calls her back into the consultation room.

“Good news,” you start, making sure to catch her eye. She meets your look briefly before her attention shifts to Visitor. “It's only a sprain. The X-ray revealed no breaks or other issues. But,” you pause, checking to see if she's still fully engaged, “his blood tests indicated a low platelet count and evidence of an infection.”

Leigh listens intently, nodding along.

You explain what this means in a clear, concise manner, avoiding medical jargon as much as possible. “It's something we can manage with medication. I'll prescribe some antibiotics for the infection and pain medication to help with his discomfort. It's important that he completes the course of antibiotics to clear the infection completely.”

You watch Leigh closely, gauging her reaction and ready to answer any questions she might have. “We'll need to keep an eye on his platelet count, so I'd like to schedule a follow-up visit next week. This will also give us a chance to check how his leg is healing.”

“Will he be okay?” she asks without looking up from Visitor, busy scratching behind his ears.

“He'll be just fine,” you reassure her, adding, “Any questions about what we discussed?”

Leigh stays silent and you take it as your cue that she doesn’t have any thoughts on the matter. As she wraps up without saying much more, you realize it's time to wrap things up too. But there's something niggling at you, something that's been on your mind since the last time she was here. You're about to let her go, but then, out of nowhere, you feel this urge to clear the air about that whole mess with Matt.

“So, uhm, about the other week when you…” you trail off, suddenly feeling like you're balancing on a tightrope without a net. You’re not so easily spooked by confrontations, but Leigh makes you nervous in a way you can’t explain. “I guess I just wanted to say sorry… for your loss, and for—”

“Does he really need to take pain medication for seven days?” Leigh cuts you off suddenly. It’s sharp enough for you to shut your mouth and abandon your attempt to get personal.

“Yes, the full course is important to ensure he's comfortable and that the inflammation goes down properly. It's just as crucial as the antibiotics for his recovery…”

Leigh nods, carefully scooping Visitor into her arms, preparing to leave.

You try one last time. “Leigh, I really am sorry–”

“I’ll see you next week, Dr. Y/L/N,” she says dismissively and then she’s gone.

#unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #leigh shaw x reader #leigh shaw x female reader #leigh shaw #sorry for your loss au #leigh shaw x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #sorry i had to tag wanda x reader for visibility

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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 1 month

Note

Can you do something where Aaron hearts the reader refer to Jack as my kid/our son for the first time? And he just gets all smiley and happy.

fem!plus size reader, wc: 385.

a/n: sorry for my short absence, i was a little busy, so i just needed a little bit of rest, but i'm back and here is something nice and sugary sweet! thank you for your requests and thank you to everyone for the recent influx of support, it means so much!!

It was one of those rare moments where Aaron was able to stay home during the weekend.

He was already sitting at the kitchen table with his mug of coffee – that you lovingly prepared for him – admiring you as you moved about in the kitchen itself. From the cabinet to the stove where you were flipping pancakes, you had your phone tucked up under your chin, presumably listening to your best friend ramble about whatever drama she had going on at the moment.

“No yeah – hold on a sec.” You were in the middle of agreeing with something she said when little Jack Hotchner lightly tugged on your pajama-shirt. “Yes, sweetheart?” You asked the boy, giving him your full undivided attention despite being in the middle multitasking.

“Do we have strawberries?” He asked sweetly. You smiled fondly, gently stroking his hair gently. “Of course we do. Do you want some with your pancakes?” He nodded shyly, “Yes please.”

“Not a problem, sweets.”

With that, the boy scampered off, presumably back to playing with whatever toy he had been obsessed with recently.

The sight of you and his son never failed to make Aaron’s heart shoot straight out of his chest. He was always so grateful that you took Jack under your wing, because dating when you had a kid was hard, and he and his son were a package duo. Plus, he really liked you, so instead of pretending you had to go to the bathroom when you were on a date with him, and he had told you he was a father, you just simply smiled and said you couldn’t wait to meet him.

“Who was that?” You reiterated the question your friend must have asked you. “Oh, just my son. Sorry, he was asking about strawberries.”

‘Oh, just my son.’

The words had left your mouth like it was as easy as breathing air. You probably hadn’t even realized what you said with all of the things that you were doing, but he knew that you meant it, there was sincerity in your words.

Aaron was smiling. Hard. So hard that he had to force himself to hide it behind the rim of his cup. Everything that was happening was so domestic that he thought that maybe he could get used to this.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus

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voonroo · 3 months

Note

I have an idea! Only do it if you feel comfortable though 🙌🏻 no pressure

Teen reader with Alastor who have this father-daughter bond. Teen reader has never really 'acted out' in a sense. At least not in ways expected of in a sinner. Always had manners, polite, and reserved, yet was always open and honest with Alastor.

Now imagine reader out on the town doing some errands and they overhear a demon talking some nasty crap about Alastor. For the first time, they let their anger get the better of them and get into a fight with the demon. Not without a few cuts and bruises though, poor thing.

Reader not wanting Alastor to get angry or disappointed at them decide that it's best that just this one, they won't mention anything. They'll not tell him this one thing. It won't hurt. He won't know!

Yet it's Alastor. And he always knows. Mainly because they're reading sunglasses inside and trying (failing) to cover up a limp.

Are Ya Winning Child?

⌐‣Alastor & Teen Reader

Want more? Check out the masterlist↩︎

AUTHOR’S NOTE: KSNAKXNSM I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS I AM LIVING FOR THESE REQUESTS. I ACTUALLY HAD TO TAKE BREAKS WRITING THIS TO BREATHE. I WAS GENUINELY TWEAKING LIKE ALASTOR WAS THIS LAST EPISODE WRITING THIS.

Alastor & Teen Reader

You had always been one to hold your tongue and watch your actions. To not act out on rashness. That's how you had always been, even before ending up in hell. You had always been known for your good manners, even as a kid and it's only become more solidified in your character as you grew.

Then why was it so hard to not beat the living shit out of the demon in front of you.

There's no way they didn't know you were connected with the infamous radio demon in some way. Maybe they had seen you and him out and about here recently and knew you two had a connection. People are more courageous than ever to question Alastor’s authority since his 7-year absence.

Maybe the demon is just trying to get a rise out of you. Sinners, who were once people, tend to poke and prod at what they don't understand. “How could some random teenage sinner be so close to the radio demon? Maybe they have a deal? The poor soul probably got tricked…” You've heard it all by now.

But, every time someone said something would be in hushed whispers that were easy to ignore. However, it can be quite hard to ignore some random drunkard spouting lies from his lips. And straight to your face too.

“He’s probably got your ass on a leash doesn't he?” and “Oh! If he's so powerful—” There were a few loud noises, maybe a scream or two.

What…? Oh shit.

The walk back to the hotel was not fun. You really should have just ignored him. Silencing him was not worth the pain you had in your leg and the ache you felt. You're pretty sure you got a black eye too.

By the time you arrive, you have adorned sunglasses on your face come up with an idea as to why you have them, and practiced how to hide your limp until you at least got up the stairs.

By telling those who questioned your weird behavior, “Oh someone was giving out free sunglasses they didn't want anymore so I took one.” and walking past your sorry excuse of trying to hide a limp, you finally made it to your room.

However, you didn't have peace for long until a familiar knock sounded at your door. Quickly throwing back on your sunglasses, you heard Alastor’s static voice through the door.

“I heard you arrived back from town just a few minutes ago!” Oh, he's definitely already on your trail…

You walked- well more so limped, over to the door. Signing in defeat before tossing the sunglasses on your bed.

Fuck it, he probably already knows.

Opening the door, you were immediately met with the radio demon himself. His eyes already shooting up and down your figure. From your leg to your black eye.

“May I come in?” It sounded like more of a command rather than a question. Without much thought, you opened the door wider before going back over to your bed and sitting down on the edge. Staring blankly ahead like a guilty child who got caught with their hand in a cookie jar. There's no point in trying to argue that you're fine when you know Alastor will just keep pestering you until you tell him.

Sitting down next to you, Alastor sat with you in silence for a moment. As if giving you the chance to speak up first, but when you didn't he let out a soft sigh before gently cupping your face, turning your head to look at him.

“What happened.” The average sinner would have been scared shitless at his tone, but you were only mildly frightened. However, there was definitely ill intent behind his smile. He knows you didn't just do this to yourself. You had to have a reason, you don't usually act out of line.

“I got into a fight.” His hand dropped from your face as you spoke, his smile growing wider before he let out a chuckle. His shoulders slightly shaking and his eyes closed in euphoria. His next words were clear when he spoke, looking you in the eyes.

“And did you win?”

“Yeah…?”

Another chuckle left his lips, though, it sounded more like a childish giggle. His hand raised again, landing on your head before ruffling your hair. A proud smile on his face.

“Good.”

Word Count: 735

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hispg · 3 months

Text

Little bunny

Pairings: R4! Leon X Fem! Reader

Summary: You riled him up. It's totally your fault for using this bunny outfit. Now, bear the consequences.

Wc: 2.5k

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, mirror sex, soft!Dom Leon, pet names, light dirty talk.

An: Hi Hi, sorry for the recent absence, I haven't replied to any asks or comments. And sorry for the absence, don't get me wrong.I have to sort out some things in my personal life, and frankly my mental state isn't the best. From yesterday to today I had two terrible mental breakdowns.I don't like to talk too much about my personal problems here, but I don't think it's fair to ghost everyone. Anyway, I just wanted to say that my next posts will be scheduled,(I'll see if I have any ready works to post, and hopefully I do), and I'll probably be back around February 5th or so. If I feel better I'll come back sooner, but I need some time to breathe.Don't worry, I'll reply to each and every one of you as soon as I get back! I apologize for the inconvenience, but I promise I'll come back better and respond to every kind interaction I've received!

Sorry for the long rant, but I kind of needed it. Thanks for your attention so far💕

"Look at me, love." Leon purred in your ear, watching you through the mirror.

Your legs spread, his fingers buried in your wet pussy, your cream dripping down his fists and onto the floor, making a mess where you sat.

Your lips hanging open as you moaned, your head resting on his shoulder as you couldn't even open your eyes without rolling them.

It was all so dirty, the mirror bearing witness to the scene that was unfolding. You in a bunny outfit, all dolled up for a party, it wasn't your intention to make Leon horny.

But what did you expect? Sending him a photo of you in that bodysuit, your ass reflected in the mirror and you making a naughty face. Of course Leon would come running to see you. How could he not?

You wanted to get his attention, since he hadn't been able to talk to you all day, so you had the brilliant idea of sending him these provocative photos. And indeed, you got his attention, and at the same moment he left all his chores and came running to see you.

Now you had to deal with him.

"All that for me, love?" Leon purred in your ear, using his thumb to massage your clit.

You hung your head again, letting the hoarse whimpers escape your throat every time he sank his fingers into you, hitting those weak spots that made you soft in his arms.

His mouth found its way to your neck, sucking and licking at the area, his teeth rubbing against your flesh lightly. His little smile only widened when he felt you tighten around his fingers, you were almost there once again.

You felt that familiar feeling forming in the pit of your stomach, your mind getting messy and unfocused, you just had attention at that moment.

Leon also sensed that you were close, watching your expression through the mirror. It was so exciting that he could stare for hours.

Your wet cunt welcoming his fingers so well, so slippery and warm that he could spend all day fingering you, without a break.

"So beautiful, look at you," Leon says, holding your jaw and making you look in the mirror.

Your face flushed, your cheeks as red as an apple, your glassy eyes that begged for his touches. Leon made a point of fucking you while you were still in that bunny costume you were wearing, just to see how hot and beautiful you looked.

"You only did that for a good fuck, didn't you? You wanted to get my attention, didn't you?" Leon whispers sensuously, using his thumb to tug at your clit viciously.

The way he spoke to you was enough to make you roll your eyes, your pussy clenching painfully tight around his fingers, you could bet that this time you wouldn't hold back.

"N-no, that wasn't it…" You moaned, rolling your eyes once more, feeling his fingers touching that weak spot of yours.

You heard Leon's chuckle, and he once again lifted your face, making you stare into the mirror once more.

"Open your eyes, princess. You look so beautiful when you come." Leon said softly, admiring your reactions.

And that was enough to get you there, you just felt your white cream being oozed out of your body, your eyes rolling back as you held onto his forearms tightly.

It was so dirty, the way you whimpered so slyly, his name sliding out of your mouth as you came. Leon kept holding your face, making you see the mess you'd made of yourself.

Through the mirror you could see him staring at you with those blue eyes, the corners of his curved into a naughty smile as he watched your fluids dripping from you.

And there he went, making you come for the thousandth time that night.And when he kept fingering you even after orgasm, you couldn't help yourself and started whimpering even more.

"Leon, stop, it's too much!" You whispered, pouting as you tried to win his pity.

But no, it wouldn't work this time.

"No, I'm sure you can take it." He says, slapping your clit, watching your every reaction.

You whimpered, keeping your pout while he played with your body. By this time Leon's cock was throbbing, aching as it was trapped in his pants, even he could feel his pre-cum soaking through his underwear.

But even though you were struggling to take it one more time, you cried out when he stopped stroking you, when you felt the emptiness he left when he took his fingers out of you.

He had better plans for you now, he wanted to watch a bit at that moment. He then sat down on his knees, leaning back as he saw your legs spread in that dirty way.

"Touch yourself." He demands, his voice low and husky, causing a chill to run down your spine.

You widened your eyes at his demand, biting your lip as you saw him undo his belt, push his pants down and pull it all out at once, his cock jutting out at the same moment.

Pinky tip, flushed, and swollen. The clear and perfect sign of the effect you had on him. Leon wasted no time in wrapping his hand around his dick, grunting as he lazily stroked his length.

You then began to do as he asked, keeping your legs open while you delicately placed your index finger on your clit, making small circles on the sensitive part.

"Keep going." Leon says, biting his lip as he watched you, he began to jerk off with more speed, keeping his gaze on you.

"But… I'd rather it was you." You say, looking at him with sly little eyes.

"If you do what I ask, I can give you what you want all night long." He says, fisting himself as he watches you rub your fingers over your clit.

So wet, soaking wet just thinking about the possibility of him fucking you, even if only with his fingers.

He noticed every detail, your hips rocking as you touched yourself and searched for more friction, right up to the point where you put a finger inside yourself, arching your back and moaning softly.

In one swift movement he moved behind you once more, wrapping one of his arms around your waist while pressing his chest against your back. And in the same instant you felt his size in your folds, his cock rubbing against you, making you both moan at the same time.

He forced you down, making his cock move back and forth in your pussy lips, making you squirm and try to get away from him.

Your movements on your clit stopped, and he growled in protest at your interrupted act. You felt his fingers sinking into your hips, just as he began to fuck you while maintaining total control.

"Keep going." He murmured, in an authoritative yet heated voice.

You obeyed, pressing your finger back into your clit, moaning even louder as you began to feel his balls slapping against you, he moved back and forth, his length grinding against your folds as he held you tight.

And you couldn't contain the moan you let out when you saw the trail of pre-cum running down his cock, making you salivate even more.

At that point you didn't know who was making more of a mess, you or him. Not least because even he couldn't hold back his grunts when he heard the wet, lubricated sounds that filled both your ears, along with your moans and grunts that mixed and became one.

"I'm close—" You moan, biting your lip as you look at Leon.

The image was what you needed to feel your cunt clenching around nothing, your body heating up as you felt your orgasm building more and more.

Leon fucking you from behind, his nails digging into your hips, to the point of leaving marks the next day. His cock emerging and plunging from your folds, your pussy lips becoming swollen from the repetitive movement that was driving you crazy.

You then began to move along with him, your hips moving back and forth, you couldn't hold back the sound that came from your lips every time you felt his balls slap against you. Heavy and full, slamming so hard against you that you could feel your skin heating up and burning with every thrust.

When you started rubbing your clit more fervently, he noticed, and soon grunted in your ear in a bossy voice:

"Pull out." He says, looking down at your fingers that were massaging your sensitive buddy.

Maybe it was just a way of being mean to you, to hold off your orgasm for as many times as he wanted.

"But… I'm so close!" You whimper, looking at him with the sly little eyes you were an expert at making.

"What a shame." He purrs, taking your arms and stopping you from continuing what you were doing.

He then took both your arms, holding them behind you, his hand firmly wrapped around your wrist while the other went back to holding tightly onto your hip.

Leon couldn't help himself and smiled when he saw the mess you'd made of his cock, to the point where there was an absurd amount of the creams oozing out of you.

So dirty, doing all this fussing while he was just teasing you, what a dirty little girl, but that's what you wanted, wasn't it?

"Mh, didn't you want my attention?" He purred once more, holding you tightly as he moved back and forth, rubbing his cock against you once again.

You could feel his warm breath on your neck, his lips lightly touching your skin, and he made a point of giving you little bites, leaving his mark.

"My pretty little bunny, making a mess on my cock." He whispered, in a sensual and provocative way, almost making you feel ashamed of what you were doing.

But it wasn't that, he was proud. Why was that? Because he knew that he was the only one who could leave you like this, and that you were all his, made just for him.

The way he spoke to you made you whimper, humping against him like a bitch in heat, sweat sticking to your forehead as you looked at him through the mirror.

His blue eyes never stopped looking at you, the way you were soaking wet, that bunny outfit that suited you so well. Or whether it was the way your breasts swayed as he grabbed you from behind, grinning shamelessly as he watched you.

And you heard his laugh as you rolled your eyes, letting a sly noise come out of your mouth in a high-pitched way. You were coming.

His hand that had been on your hip went up to your chin, and he made you look at yourself as you came once more.

"Look, bunny, how hot you are. Look at the mess." He says, forcing you to watch your fluids running down his cock, making a new mess.

Just as you saw more pre-cum coming out of him, he was so turned on watching you that he could cum just like that.

White cream dripping off him, making his cock wet and sticky, you did it the way he liked it. The way you were able to do everything the way he wanted, including not holding back while you came, was just one more success on your part.

But now came the part he was most interested in, he was going to fuck you like he loved. Just the sight of the whimpering mess you'd become was exciting, you couldn't speak more than two sentences, you couldn't do anything but moan. It was all down to him.

"You wanted some attention, didn't you?" Leon asked, putting his hand on your back and making you lie on the floor.

Your chest pressed against the cold floor, your nipples hardening even more from the contact. He was still holding your arms, keeping them pinned behind you.

You just stared at him with a pout, moaning as you watched him play with you, lightly smacking your wet pussy, eventually lightly slapping your ass. He just wanted to tease you.

"Please?" You pleaded, arching your hips towards him, only to receive a harder slap.

"That's what you want, isn't it?" Leon purrs, positioning his tip at your entrance, and taking the opportunity to rub his tip against your clit.

He knew he'd have to stop himself from cumming too quickly, because just seeing you in this position was enough for any of his fantasies, it was what he needed to see to go over the edge.

"So be it, I'm going to fuck you exactly the way you want, bunny." He says, a wicked smile on his lips.

And then without you expecting it, he thrust into you all at once, and you felt the delicious stretch he gave you every time. Your pussy stretching to accommodate him with such mastery.

You just moaned, you were incapable of doing anything else, completely drunk on his dick.

You only had time to close your eyes tightly before he started hammering into you, without the slightest pity, just fucking you hard and deep just the way you liked it.

His grip on your hips was strong, and he handled you as if you were a doll that weighed nothing, thrusting into you as he pulled you back onto his cock. Your bodies slammed together abruptly, making that filthy sound echo throughout the room.

Leon was all sweaty, his muscles flexing with every movement, and you could watch him fucking you from behind as you watched the scene in the mirror.

While Leon had the perfect view of his cock sinking into you, your warm walls engulfing him in a unique way, making him grunt at how tight you were, and how hard you could take him. Your juices leaving a white ring at the base of his cock, honeying all over him, acting as if he was the only cock for you.

It was too much for Leon, watching you moaning like that, whimpering desperately as he fucked you. His response was to pick up the pace, his balls slapping against you as his tip reached points so deep you couldn't even imagine.

It was all so fast, you didn't even have time to think as your orgasm washed over you, your walls squeezing him hard as you wet his cock even more. Your voice loud and sly, your nails gripping the carpet hard.

And that's what he needed, the last little push, the image of you cumming on his cock in such an obscene way was enough for him to grunt loudly and pump his seed into you, withdrawing his cock and sinking back in with a deep thrust, making sure to finish inside.

For a while, the only sound you could hear was your breathing, shallow and heavy, as you tried to catch your breath.

But then you caught Leon looking at you, the bunny ears that were on your head falling slightly below your face, that bodysuit that drew out your every curve.

He squeezed your hips, looking you up and down. Oh no, he wasn't finished with his bunny.

You wanted attention, and he was going to give it to you all night long.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon x reader #leon x y/n #leon x you #leon resident evil #leon scott kennedy x reader #re leon #resident evil leon #leon scott kennedy x you #leon s kennedy smut #leon smut #leon re4

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bigfatbimbo · 2 months

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Hello! I recently found your blog through you Lute stuff and because I'm unreasonably gay for that woman, I have a hurt/comfort idea for you.

Lute picking at/pulling her feathers out when she's stressed/upset and her partner (maybe even f!sinner 👀) just gently stopping her and running her fingers over the wings to soothe the pain from it. All while reassuring Lute that she's okay, she's safe and she's perfect.

That's all, thank you for your time and your writing!

you up for a fight? —

827 Words,, Lute x reader

warnings — hurt/comfort, mention of rivalry, light angst, nothing too heavy, not entirely proofread

summary — Lutes rivalry with a sinner is put on hold when she can’t find them one extermination day. Fearing the worst, she freaks out and looks for them.

a/n — Anyways I made it my rival sinner au because I wanted too and felt like it sorry brother.

She couldn’t find you. After a whole year of waiting to fight you, fuck, to see you, she couldn’t find you.

You were her rival, and only that. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t getting worked up over your disappearance. She trained to fight you, a talented sinner, and best you. But she didn’t expect her favorite demon opponent to be gone without a trace.

Lute felt a loss for air, at your absence. She zipped throughout the entire ring, scavenging for any trace of you. Had some other angel got to you? Were you hurt? Was it worse than hurt?

Her breath started to hitch and her soldier attitude dropped into panicked hysterics. And her thirst for victory against you became a desperate need to see you in tact and in good health.

Finally, she dropped into an empty building near your usual meetup spot. It was completely abandoned, making it the perfect spot to collect herself.

However, she did the exact opposite. The pressure on her to be the perfect soldier had finally became too much and she was spiraling.

Gasping for air, pacing the empty space, and picking at her feathers to no avail. You were dead, she thought. You were gone for good and it’s all because she didn’t get there first. So much for being an amazing soldier. God she was a screwup. How could she let this—

“Lute?”

She stopped in her tracks, turning to you slowly, and running towards you, “Y/n!”

You brace for combat, expecting a strike with her spear or a blow to your head, but instead, find her arms thrown around your neck.

“I thought you were gone,” she said loudly, voice breaking, “That some cunt angel got to you or— or—“

“Hey, it’s okay. Lute, fuck.” you take a moment to adjust to the soft touch, considering it to be a trap, before finally wrapping your arms around her waist, “I’m here, I’m safe, it’s alright.”

You weren’t expecting such a warm welcome in all honesty. And, a part of you mourned the loss of a fight. However, your heart went out to Lute and her strong reaction.

There was no denying that on a certain level, you two were extremely close. How many years have you been trying to kill each-other? Obviously enough for one of you to be crying at the thought of anyone else finishing the job.

And, there was no denying you’ve had softer moments before. Well, nothing to this extent but, just soft enough to form some kind of emotional bond.

“All because—“ her voice is rough and raspy, but thick with tears and anguish, “—because I wasn’t quick enough. I couldn’t find you, it’s my fault.”

She pulled back from you and paced slightly as she rambled on about ‘not being good enough’ and her fingers picked roughly at her feathers.

“Hey—“ you try but fail to get her attention, “Hey! Stop!” your hand grabs hers and stops it from moving. Meeting her eyes, you take her other hand much more gently and caress her knuckle.

“You’re doing perfect. You didn’t do anything wrong, Lute.” her eyes widen as she looks at you, face still stroked with tears, “You are good enough. I mean— fuck. You found me, right?”

You smile slightly her way, earning an empty stare. Instead, you pull her into another hug and caress her back softly.

“I’m proud of you, yknow? After all, takes a lot to get someone actually excited for extermination day,” she buries her faces in your neck as you speak, “It’s alright. We’re alone. We don’t have to fight, we can just take it easy.”

Then, like a switch was flipped, she snaps her body away from you. For a moment, just meeting your eyes, she breathes softly. Finally, she snaps out of what ever panic she was in, well, to the best for her ability, and brushes herself off.

Clearing her throat, she grimaced. “I apologize for that outburst, demon. I guess i’ve had a stressful day,” she looks up at you as if remembering something urgent, “Oh, and I didn’t mean whatever I said. Hysterics.”

She went to clarify more but she felt it stupid, What would she say? ‘Oh yeah, I wasn’t actually worried about you dying. In fact I want you dead!’ Not only was that tacky, it wasn’t entirely true.

You stopped her from furthering this, “It’s fine, Lute. You were upset. I won’t hold you to it. And hey, if you are in better spirits and don’t mind me asking, are you up for a fight?”

She almost smiled at this thought. Fighting was something she knew, unlike the terrible feeling she just had. It was almost as if the sentence was perfectly calculated to comfort her.

Before she drew her weapon she could feel the smile spreading on her face. Was she up for a fight? The answer was simple; with you, always.

a/n — I’m so sleepy, I proofread this but i’m so tired I literally don’t know if it’s coherent.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel #inbox open #hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin lute #lute x reader #lute hazbin hotel #rival lute

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kopilot-pop · 5 months

Text

[New Jeans x Oldest Member! Reader] - #2

- imagine.

Summary: You’re the oldest member in NJ. That means alot of adoration coming from your younger members. (These are just a bunch of short moments with NJ and oldest member)

A/N: Hey I’m back with another one lol. Sorry for the long wait! This one’s (I think) a bit shorter, but hey who cares. It’s mainly fluff but I decided to write angst in the end so beware of that! Love y’all

Warnings: overworking, physical abuse, breakdowns, etc. Don’t get scared it’s like 3/4 fluff

———————————————————————

"Hey unnie are you-"

Haerin opened your door for the tenth time this week, and just like the other times, you weren't in your room. The girl let out a frustrated groan.

Recently, you've been hanging out at Nmixx's dorms alot.

It started when you became close friends with Haewon (having been the same age) at a festival. Thanks to Haewon, you became close with Lily, and soon you had the 4 other members surrounding you with the same adoring eyes you always see on your members.

It was cute to be honest.

But wanna know who didn't find them cute?

Every single person at your house.

"WHY IS SHE NOT HOME AGAIN-"

"Okay, Hanni calm do-"

"CALM DOWN?! SHE'S CHEATING ON US!"

"What- NOBODY'S DATING EACHOTHER."

"IT'S STILL CHEATING!!"

The short girl was having a tantrum on the couch, with Minji barely stopping her from barging into Nmixx's dorm. However, since this is the 5th time this week you're at their house, Minji is currently considering barging in with Hanni.

"...Does she not like us anymore..."

Another slumped body rolled onto the couch.

"DANI NO-"

"Maybe I was too clingy.. Maybe we should let her go... Let her move onto better things.."

"WHY ARE YOU GUYS ALL ACTING LIKE A TEEN GOING THROUGH A BREAKUP!?"

"Yeah, Y/n deserves better..."

"DANIELLE!"

Minji pinched her temple when she heard another person throwing a tantrum in the kitchen. Hyein slammed the fridge door in frustration, causing the whole room to shake. She had a prominent pout on her face, sipping on the Caprisun in her hands (which you bought by the way).

She was grumbling something about Nmixx and how much 'I'm cuter than their maknae', causing Minji to let out an exasperated laugh.

"Everyone calm down!! Y/n told me she's gonna be home soon so-"

"I'm home right now, so..."

You stood at the hallway, watching the three members having a near-breakdown over your absence.

All four of them ran into your body, capturing you in a hug.

“UNNIE!! Why did you take so looong..”

Hyein - being taller than you - was practically carrying your whole body in her arms.

“I was gone for like 3 hours..”

“Way too long if you ask me.”

“But-”

“WAY too long.”

You let out a sigh, “Well, you guys better get used to it then, because I’m visiting them next we-”

“HUH?”

“Yeah, we’re having pizza-”

“PIZZA?! WITHOUT US?? HOW COULD YOU?!”

Minji let out a loud groan, hurriedly leaving you to deal with the children.

———————————————————————

“How was your first impression of each other?”

The young man sitting on the sofa was smiling, clearly excited to be interviewing one of the most famous k-pop groups of 2023.

His question wasn’t something new, but it was the first time you guys have been asked it.

You picked up the microphone first, “Well, personally, I just thought all of them were really pretty so…”

The studio filled with laughter from your statement.

“Ah, well then, let’s ask our pretty girls. What did you guys think of Y/n the first time you saw her?”

Hyein was the first to be given the microphone.

“……..Scary.”

“What?!”

The other girls agreed, causing you to look at them in disbelief.

“I was not scary!”

“You were really scary! You were wearing a hat that covered your face and you had a really deep voice!!”

“I had a sore throat that day!”

“You always have a deep voice though?” Hanni teased.

You let out a frustrated groan. “I brought snacks that day! I thought I made a really good impression..” You pouted at Danielle causing the girl to squeal.

“You did in the end! It was just your first look that was really scary. Now you’re just a really big puppy in our eyes.”

The whole group hummed in agreement.

“Hey, wait! I’m not a puppy!”

“Yeah, exactly. You’re not just a puppy. You’re a really big puppy.” Haerin commented with the same expression she always made when teasing you.

Flustered, touched(?), and clearly not used to this kind of treatment by your ‘kiddos’, you let out an awkward cough, causing the interviewer to laugh.

“Haha, I can tell that they really adore you Y/n!”

You can’t contain a smile this time.

———————————————————————

“UNNIE! Do you know where my leather jacket is?!”

It was currently 11:24. Haerin excitedly told you for weeks on end about appearing in Euchae’s Star Diary, and today was finally the day.

Apparently, it was a special episode, with Eunchae, Kyujin, and her going around like a small hangout. The crew apparently wanted a ‘natural vibe’, which meant the girls could choose what kind of outfits they want to wear.

Haerin kept you up all night to pick out an outfit, but apparently she needed her favorite leather jacket - with the star patches - to complete the look.

“Didn’t you leave it at the company last week?”

She let out a soft gasp, immediately followed by a prominent pout on her lips.

“Ah.. but I really wanted a leather jacket to go with this..” She tugged at the shirt she was wearing. After a few second of watching her sulk, you grabbed your own jacket and threw it over her shoulder.

“How about this one?”

Haerin let out a giggle, “Hmm.. I think this might be better than the star one..!”

“It’s settled then. Come on, our manager’s probably waiting for you downstairs.”

“Oh, can I really borrow it?”

“Of course. If you don’t plan on throwing it in the sea, you can wear it as much as you want.”

You watched as a tiny smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

“….”

“Did you forget something, bub?”

Haerin stood at the entrance, hesitantly looking at you and her feet.

“….s.”

“Hmm?”

“….Thanks… for helping me out…..I’ll see you later!!”

She burst through the front door, leaving you dumb founded. After a few second to process everything, you finally let out a loud laugh.

“Not a problem, kitty.”

———————————————————————

You were tired, that's for sure.

It's approximately 14 days and 3 hours away from your group's comeback. And you've been a mess for approximately 30 days.

Being the oldest meant alot of pressure onto you from the company. For a while, the pressure was always on Minji, but ever since you stumbled into her crying after being yelled at by the choreographer, you decided take charge a bit more.

Being screamed at was fine - it's you or the others, and you'll gladly be the victim if it meant the girls weren't. Being forced to attend meetings at midnight was fine - you're already high on caffeine. Fuck it - having a clip board thrown into your shoulder was fine and even being slapped by a random producer was fine.

At least in the moment it was.

Everything all came back to you in the dorms.

When the effects of the energy drink you chugged flushes out and when the ringing in your ears changes into the sounds of Hanni's favorite TV show, you finally feel the burning sensation on your right cheek.

That day was the first time your members saw you cry.

Hyein was barely awake, having been waiting for you to come home. She dragged her feet towards the front door when she heard you unlock it.

You simply stood there, tears streaming down your face.

The maknae took a few moments to shake off the sleep left in her body and immediately took you into her arms.

"Wha- it's okay, it's okay unnie. C'mon I'm here..."

You sobbed uncontrollably, clutching onto the younger's body like she would fade away if you let go even for a moment.

Hyein was confused (I mean she woke up like 5 minutes ago), but all she cared about was the fact her unnie - the strongest person she knew - was having a breakdown, barely a feet inside the house.

You think you passed out from exhaustion in her arms.

When you gained consciousness again, you were in your bed. Hyein was underneath you (most likely unable to leave because of your hands clutching onto her pajamas) and through bleary eyes, you could see Danielle cuddled up right next to the two of you.

With her hand tightly gripping onto the pajamas somebody changed you into.

"Oh, you're awake."

Minji was in the doorway with a tray of food and a plastic box.

You pushed yourself off of the maknae and sat on the ledge of the bed.

"Yeah, um.." Your voice cracked immediately, making Minji let out a chuckle.

"I brought you breakfast? If you want some, of course."

"I.. I'd love to. Thanks bub."

After a few moments of silence, Minji finally decided to start a conversation.

"So... How are you feeling?"

"Haha... I'm not sure actually." You let out a nervous laugh.

As you played with your food, you could sense Minji's eyes boring into you. What you couldn't sense was her grabbing your face, and wiping it down with a wet towel she brought.

"Agh- what are you doin-"

"What happened to your face?"

Silence, again.

"What about your shoulder? Why is it bruised like that?"

Ah, so she changed your clothes.

"...I don't want to talk about it."

You could see her eyebrows furrow. She clearly doesn't like your answer, but doesn't want to pry any farther. At least not right now.

Minji lets out a sigh, "Fine."

"I'm okay Minj-"

"We know you're not."

She starts adding ointment onto your her hand, rubbing it onto your burning face.

"And it's fine if you're not ready to tell us."

You stare into her eyes.

"But just... I just want you to know, we're always here... Always."

———————————————————————

#new jeans #fanfic #danielle marsh #danielle x reader #haerin #haerin x reader #hanni #hanni x reader #hyein #hyein x reader #minji x reader #minji #new jeans fic #new jeans x reader #new jeans imagines #newjeans

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requinoesis · 1 month

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do the sharks in your universe go through parthenogenesis? if they do, do they have control over the pregnancy or does it happen at random?

That's a very interesting question! I thought about it and yes, parthenogenesis happens to the sharks in my universe. One of the characters, the zebra shark called Aria, is the fruit of parthenogenesis.

As for the cause, even for our science today, it is still unknown how this works or whether the female shark has control over it in any way. It is not known whether the females trigger the phenomenon or whether it happens spontaneously. I haven't found much information either; it's something very new to us. Recently, a stingray in captivity became pregnant by parthenogenesis, for example. Stingrays belong to the same family as sharks.

As there are few answers at the moment, I decided to take inspiration from a fantasy idea about this. What I'm going to tell you now is a fictional vision of the origin of parthenogenesis:

My shark people theorize that parthenogenesis is a kind of "Shadow of Decline", an ancestral ability inherited by female sharks that withstood mass extinction events in the primordial ages of the planet.

They theorize that there were probably times when the male shark population declined, so the females who were able to adapt to create "backups" of their genes through cloned daughters prevailed, while those who lacked this adaptation became extinct.

In short, they theorize that females, in situations of stress and prolonged absence of male sharks, trigger a clone as a type of genetic reserve. As she gets older, she transfers the responsibility to her cloned daughter, who may have a better chance of finding a partner to pass on her genes and ensure the survival of the species.

In the context of civilization, the conditions for parthenogenesis to take place are still unknown. But my sharks link the phenomenon to a stress response and prolonged life without producing offspring.

Maybe it's not a good comparison, but it would be a kind of menstrual cycle that instead of happening monthly, happens randomly between 10~20 years after sexual maturity. (I used as inspiration a female blacktip reef shark that developed a fetus in her uterus after 10 years of living in an aquarium without the presence of males).

Modern shark society offers full support to females who don't want to go ahead with parthenogenesis and are given full assistance to carry out abortions. But there are also many females who choose to accept the phenomenon, go ahead with the pregnancy and become the mothers of these children, while some females give birth but hand the newborn over to "kindergartens", which act like orphanages/schools/universities that provide full support for the child to grow up and become independent or be adopted.

A reminder that children born from parthenogenesis will always be girls and with identical genes to their mother. Because of this, some females are afraid to go ahead with parthenogenesis, as they fear that their daughters will suffer from the same physical or mental health problems as their mothers.

In the case of zebra shark Aria, her mother has a neurodivergence and she feared that her daughter would suffer as much as she did, but she decided to go ahead with her daughter's parthenogenesis. Despite having the same neurodivergence, she views it with a completely different approach to her mother, which gives her hope and support.

That's it! I'm sorry if I've written too much or if my English is strange, I got carried away, maybe I'm missing more details, but that's what I've thought so far. Any other ideas to enrich this would be welcome!

It's a very interesting creative exercise to imagine how parthenogenesis would be viewed in a civilized society like ours.

#shark #sharks #character design

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grandlinedreams · 6 months

Text

[heads up!: cursing, brief mention of implied abuse (not from Zoro)]

“Just shut up, damn it! Go find someone else to pester instead of bugging me!”

He doesn’t mean it. The moment the words slip from his lips, he knows he’s going to regret it – especially since it’s born out of irritation over something that’s far from your fault. Training had not been going the way he wanted. Most recent injuries still healing, the stubborn, persistent ache of his body had steadily pushed him into a darker and darker mood.

And then you had come up to ask him a question – if he’d wanted something to drink, something to eat – and then the question that’d tipped him over the edge. “Shouldn’t you be resting instead of trying to train? I don’t think it’d be good for you to reopen something…”

And he’d snapped, eye blazing with fury as he jerked his arm out of your reach.

You freeze, arm dropping back to your side. He expects you to lash out, fire back – you know how to hold your ground, and he’s been a front-row witness to how sharp of a tongue you have when you’re (rightfully) pissed.

But you don’t.

Instead, your expression goes blank and you turn, slipping back down from the observation deck. In the absence of words, the hard click of your descent offers a finality that makes a chill slide down his spine.

He knows he should apologize, but pride is a difficult thing to swallow – especially when he knows he’s at fault for this. So he stays put, shoving down guilt in favor of resuming his training and pointedly ignoring the protest of his bandaged wounds.

By the time he comes down for dinner, Zoro is in a far better mood than he’d started with – he’s finally managed to get where he wants to with training, and his injuries have eased from persistent ache to a dull throb that he can tune out.

Entering the dining room and spotting you in your usual seat with the standard empty one beside you for him, he moves to take his seat – only to watch as you get to your feet and leave the table entirely.

“Where are you going? Are you feeling okay?” Nami’s the one to ask, just as confused by your abrupt behavior as Zoro is.

“I’m fine,” you answer, turning to give the navigator a reassuring smile. “Just remembered I wanted to watch the sunset, that’s all.”

Zoro watches you go, wondering if he’s forgotten some agreement the two of you’d made beforehand – and turns to find Nami staring at him. He frowns, already on the defensive. “What?”

“What did you do now?” Her tone is accusing, her eyes narrowing as Zoro’s temper flares once more.

“Why are you assuming I did something?”

Nami folds her arms across her chest, raising an eyebrow. “Because you’re not the most perceptive person around when it comes to anything but fighting,” she points out and he bristles, even though he knows she’s right. “Think, Zoro. I’m sure you should apologize for something.”

“No, I–” He halts. He does have something to apologize for, doesn’t he – how he’d yelled at you, the look you’d given him before turning and leaving. It’s clear that you’re still upset about that, and while he doesn’t blame you, like hell he’s going to admit that he did do something to Nami or anyone else. “Whatever. I’m leaving too.”

He gets to his feet and moves in the direction you’d gone, ignoring the mutter of what sounds suspiciously like “idiot” from behind him in favor of searching for you. True to your word, you’re up towards the bow of the Sunny, arms folded on the railing as you stare out at the ocean.

Apologize. It's easy, in theory ㅡ to say "I'm sorry" and wait for you to respond if you forgive him or not. And yet he can't quite shape the words, settling for the next best thing.

Pretending nothing happened.

"Dinner's gonna go cold," he says as he approaches, and he doesn't miss the way you stiffen at the sound of his voice, but otherwise ignore him. "Want me to bring it out to you?" You don’t answer, and he can’t help the flare of frustration. Are you really going to ignore him like this? “Not talking to me now?"

Your hands curl against the railing. You've been trying your best not to think about earlier, the unpleasant memories it'd unearthed ㅡ and the fact that Zoro wants you to pretend like nothing happened only furthers the sour taste in your mouth.

'He isn't like that,' you tell yourself firmly. He has a hair-trigger temper that sparks over some of the dumbest things from time to time (especially where Sanji is involved), but it fizzles out quickly.

But you know the consequences of anger behind closed doors, away from prying eyes and ears ㅡ fingers brush your shoulder and adrenaline floods your veins, ripping you out of your unpleasant reverie as you jerk away, fixing Zoro with wide, frightened eyes. “Don’t touch me!”

Your voice isn’t loud enough to be heard by anyone else, but it still startles Zoro all the same – for the vehemence in your tone and the look that you’re giving him, like you’re afraid of him, that he’s going to – realization hits him harder than any enemy ever could.

Oh. Shit.

Of course you’d reacted the way you had earlier when he yelled at you, jerked so harshly away from you, arm raised as though he – he feels sick. How could he have forgotten? He knows he’d never do that to you, would never dream of it – but it hardly matters when he’d offered a blow of a different kind, just as devastating.

Apologize. He isn't even sure if that’ll fix the damage done now, but he can’t stand the idea of you being afraid of him. Shrinking at his voice, flinching any time he moves near you – he takes a step towards where you’re crouched now, trying to calm the panicked rhythm of your breathing.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and though he wants to touch you, he resists. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you earlier. It wasn’t anything you did, I was in a bad mood and…that’s no excuse to raise my voice at you.”

You’re shaking. It’s minute, but he can still see the tremble of your limbs and it only drives the knife deeper, knowing he’s the one to blame for this – and then you’re lurching towards him, a choked yelp coming from him as he struggles to steady both of you. “Hey–”

“Idiot,” you whisper, hiding your face against his shoulder. “You’re an absolute moron, Roronoa Zoro.”

“I know.” Tentatively, he brings a hand up, cups the back of your head. “But I’m your moron, right? Your favorite idiot?”

Your hands fist into his shirt. “Unfortunately, yeah.” He hums, adjusting to hold you closer as your breathing slows into a steadier cadence. “Zoro. I don’t want you to think this means I’ve forgiven you.” You can feel him still against you, and you lift your face from his shoulder to look at him properly. “The next time you raise your voice at me like that–”

“There won’t be a next time,” he tells you firmly, conviction clear in his tone. “It won’t happen again.”

“Promise?”

His hand drifts from your hair to cup your cheek, relieved that you lean into his touch now. “I promise.”

#ㅡmine.#one piece x reader #one piece scenario #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro x reader #–ml: zoro.

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