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#a thousand hugs for you :D
wernerherzogs · 5 months
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lacyslcver · 1 month
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YOU ARE IN LOVE ⎯⎯ OP81
One night, he wakes, strange look on his face, pauses then says, “you’re my best friend” and you knew what it was, he is in love.
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OR IN WHICH, oscar piastri is head over heels for his best friend, though he keeps his feelings a secret. He wins his first race in F1 and after seeing her cheering him on in the crowd he can’t hide his affections any longer. 
( oscar piastri x fem!reader)
a/n ; I don't think there's any tw's in this but lmk if there is pls!!
All he could hear was his heartbeat in his helmet; it flooded his ears like static on a radio. After getting out of the car without a thought in his head, he stepped onto the car in front of the halo putting both of his arms into the air. 
Adrenaline flooded his senses, his colorful helmet shined under the night race lights. The cheers were overwhelmingly loud as each voice blended together into the sea of people. 
Subconsciously so, his ears searched for one voice in particular, one that was soft and comforting. The one he’d share a laugh with until three in morning. Or would tease him inexplicably. But the voice was stirred in with the rest. 
Oscar stepped down from the car, and the first thing he did was run into the ocean of papaya. Many hands covered him, patting his back or helmet hearing many compliments on his win. After a minute or so of drowning himself in the praise and affection from his team he stepped away removing his helmet and placing it on a pedestal. 
He ran a hand through his damp hair, it staying in place as he did so. A hand landed on his shoulder and he turned, seeing a man in a matching suit who pulled him into a hug. “Mate you did great.” He complimented, his voice directly in his ear.
The Australian didn’t realize how truly speechless he was until someone directly spoke to him. The words formed in his throat but never made it out of his mouth. 
Lando pulled away with a light two taps on his back. “Thanks, maybe not pelting me with champagne could be a good job present.” Oscar jokes. 
The Brit lets out a small laugh and shakes his head, “Oh c'mon you need the full podium experience-” Oscar’s attention on Lando was cut off, the voice. 
The one he’d scanned for, moments before the voice had made itself known. She shouted his name from behind the short fence with the rest of the crowd desperately trying to get the man she’d known for most of her life’s attention. Oscar’s eyes searched the crowd, until they found her, he could’ve picked her out in any crowd his entire being always seemed drawn to her.
“Oscar!” His best friend. The only one he’s ever really known. Always supporting him, even today adorning herself in all papaya wearing a jersey he’d known for a fact had a huge eighty-one on the back (and might’ve been stolen from his closet), all for him. 
Oscar rushed over, as soon as he’d spotted her after the race, he just knew he needed her in the moment. The calm, composedness of his being suddenly dissolved into the smokey air. Still with a small fence between them he wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her into a tight hug. Her arms naturally floated around his neck, they fit together perfectly like two puzzle pieces made just for one another. Camera flashes flooded their sudden embrace, and he lightly lifted her into the air as he tightened their hold on one another. They could’ve done the whole podium ceremony, everyone could have gone home and Oscar would’ve stayed here with his arms around her always.
“You did so well today.” Her voice was soft, the words only meant for him. She only wanted him to know how proud she was of him. How much her heart raced as he crossed the checkered flag, and how much support she’d carried with her for him through everything.
His impulsiveness took over as soon as he heard her speak, he wasn’t thinking about anything in that moment, not the cameras, the thousands of people that surrounded the pair, and certainly not the feelings he carried for her for many years; the feelings he kept deep down for too long, way too long. He only thought of her, the way her soft voice tickled against his skin and the flush it brought to his already red cheeks.
Placing a delicate but firm hand on her cheek which she covered with her own hand, her cheeks turning a light and kind shade of pink and a gentle smile formed from her lips. The lips Oscar just happened to notice how pink and heart shaped they’d been and how soft they looked compared to his own chapped ones.
Oscar slightly looked down and she’d looked up at him, her eyes seemed as if they were looking into him, as if she could’ve read his thoughts. Standing like this for a second, there was a moment where the Australian had contemplated, was he going to possibly ruin a friendship over his own feelings? Before he could even think about not doing it, her eyelashes fluttered warm and innocent and he filled the gap between them. 
They were perfectly made for one another. They moved in sync, and she’d tasted of an orange mocktail and strawberry chapstick and everything that's made her, her. His thumb lightly stroked her cheek, and his arm snaked around her waist holding her tightly. 
Both her arms ended up around his neck, smiling sweetly into the kiss and giggled lightly into the Aussies mouth. Not hearing the reactions from the crowd surrounding them. 
When Oscar pulled away they’d both missed the warmth and comfort of one another. But realization hit him like a tidal wave, remembering all of his actions so clearly except for how her arms fit so perfectly around him, and the way she’d smiled at his affections. 
His hand removed itself from her waist and mind started to race and he pictured missed calls, a missing eighty-one jersey in the crowd, losing the praise of a voice that motivated him to be better. He’d completely zoned out at this point and she’d used her hand placing it back on his freckled cheek and directing him to look at her. Of course she’d know what he was thinking. 
She always did. 
She’d looked up at him, a small glint in her eyes, that made Oscar wanna kiss her all over again but he held back, fear filling his chest so tightly he’d felt like he’d choke on it. He’d race cars at 300km/h without as much fear as he felt now. 
Placing a hand on his other cheek, she stood on her tippy toes reaching his lips giving them a light peck. Her way of saying everything was gonna be okay. His cheeks flushed a deep shade of red and his arms comfortably made its way back around her waist and his hand slid up her back.
She looked up at him, anticipating him to make a move. Though she was impatient, she pulled his racing suit collar down and her lips landed on his once again. He gasped in between his lips, a small surprise of her sudden affection. 
“I think I’ve always loved you.” He whispered into her mouth in between kisses, her heart shaped lips formed in a smile against his. 
She pulled away, lightly biting his bottom lip, “you think I didn’t?” She grinned a light giggle leaving her lips. 
It was like a candle had been relit in Oscar’s head, a candle that flamed only for her. A flame that reminded him how much he needed her, how much he’d been needing her. His arms tightened around her almost possessively so, he reveled in the taste and feeling of her, and how she finally knew that most of him was hers.  
a/n ; my first f1 one shot! I'm really proud ngl and it's as cute as I was hoping! hope ya'll enjoy!
tags ; @whitcferrari @miguelasdr @lcvelctters @cedarbcws
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ifeeltoofuckingmuch · 5 months
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NSFW ALPHABET Finnick Odair
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WARNINGS: kinky shit, mentions of cum eating, kinks like breeding and exhibitionism, pussy eating, sex, rough sex, vanilla sex, sex, sex, and sex.
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A: Aftercare, what is he like after sex? He's super cuddley after sex. He loves to hold you and talk about random things while playing with your hair until you both fall asleep.
B: Body part, what's his favorite body part of yours? He adores your stomach, no matter how 'big' you think you are. He loves to place his hands there. Whether he's hugging you from the back or he's lying in between your legs eating you out.
C: Cum, Anything that has to do with cum. As I said earlier, he loves you stomach, so he definitely loves to cum on there. I feel like he'll also lick it up? He doesn't mind the mess, actually I think it may be what turns him on even more. Dont get me wrong he LOVES to cum in you though.
D: Dirty secrets. Does he have any dirty secrets? He definitely does. First, he likes to eat his own cum. Second, he for sure gets turned on by the thought of getting caught by someone. God, the amount of times he thought about fucking you during the games when thousands people are watching is insane.
E: Experience. How experienced is he? He's experienced, he had to be for what the capital did to him. All im saying is he's pretty good at what he does.
F: Favorite position. What's his favorite position? He loves the classic missionary. He loves seeing your face as he basically fucks you into next year.
G: Goofy. How goofy is he during sex? He not too goofy, he'll let out a giggle or two for no reason and you'll giggle back, but he's pretty much always is serious.
H: Hair. How well groomed is he? He likes to clean up down there. For you, he could care less. Whatever your comfortable with!
I: intimacy. How intimate is he? He is super intimate. He loves slow and passionate sex. Looking into your eyes as he slowly fucks you.
J: Jack off (masturbation). Do they jack off? Yes, but only when your not there, or if you're sleeping. He much prefers your hands.
K: Kinks. Does he have kinks? Yes. Oh God yes. When it's not slow, it's rough. And I mean rough. As I mentioned earlier, he obviously is an exhibitionist. He doesn't know why but it just turns him on so much. And if you ask, he doesn't mind choking you either. He DEFINITELY has a breeding kink... you'll most likely be on birth control. I feel like he won't actually do it but he fantasizes about blindfolding you. For sure. Also not a kink but he is a MAJOR pussy eater! He loves to look up at your face as he's making you cum with his tongue.
L: Location. Where's his favorite place to have sex? He prefers to have sex in the bedroom, but if he's REALLY horny he absolutely does not mind having it in the kitchen.
M: Motivation. What turns him on? You. Anything you do. You. You. You. But in all seriousness, you in dresses. The way they frame you body or lift up your boobs a little...
N: No. What will he not do? He will not hurt you. A couple slaps on the ass is fine, so is choking but really anything beyond that is a no.
O: Oral, do they enjoy giving or getting? He LOVES eating your pussy, and I mean LOVES 😩. Any chance he gets he WILL eat you out, no questions asked. He does enjoy getting head too, looking down at you as you gag on his dick is like heaven.
P: Pace, slow or fast? Depends on the mood of course. He is a sucker for slow sex though.
Q: Quickie, how does he feel about them? He doesn't mind them, but he prefers longer...sessions with you.
R: Risk, does he take risks during sex? Sometimes.. if you two are at a house party he may take you into the bathroom and fuck you, intentionally leaving the door unlocked. And like I said he has a breeding kink...he will not cum in you if ur not on birth control.
S: Stamina, how long can they go? I feel like he can go for about 3-4 rounds if it's a kinky night ifykwim. But if its a slow and sensual moment probably 1-2 rounds.
T: Toys, do they enjoy using toys? You two probably have a couple of vibrators..maybe a Fleshlight for him.
U: Unfair, how much do they tease? He can be such a tease.. whispering suggestive things into your ear while you two are training.. lingering touches that leave you weak in the knees.. and finally when you two get home.. he'll fuck you over and over again.. with either his dick.. or his tongue.
V: Volume, are they vocal during sex? Finnick gets loud... His moans are like music to your ears..shit maybe his own. He loves to let you know how good your doing. Moaning praises everytime he fucks your face or your pussy.
W: Wild card (random headcanon). He loves to fuck your thighs..he doesn't even know why. Maybe it's the way they hug his dick while he pushes through them?.. Oh, and he DEFINITELY talks you through it. "There you go..." Or "Just like that..let go..I got you.'
X: X-ray, what going on down there? He's around, maybe above, the average. He's 6.3 inches, but he's got girth.
Y: Yearning, how high is his sex drive? I say it depends on you, but it's pretty high.. like i said he can go for 4 rounds.
Z: Zzz, does he fall asleep quickly after? Yes, he gets really sleepy after. All he wants to do is cuddle into you and rest. He can't decide if he likes fucking you to sleep or talking you to sleep more. Even though he's tired he can go on and on about random things, like the stars.
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A/N: HELLOOO my irl friend is gonna read this and I'm freaking out 🤗. Anyways hope you all like it <3
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Tag list: @babygorewhore @taintandviolent
If you want to be added or removed from my tag list, dm me or comment!!
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onlyswan · 3 months
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summary: in which you sacrifice your strawberries and eyelash wishes for the boy knocking at your door.
idol!jungkook x reader, strangers to friends (?) to lovers / fluff and a pinch of angst / word count: 5.5k
content/warnings: allusions to death and grief / jungkook is a cutie patootie and a blushing hopeless romantic mess / he wants to kiss oc so bad (me too bro) / oc is a sunshine <3 / they do chores and watch movies together :((( / in one scene he was worried oc would think of him as a perv lmao / they’re dorks and i love them / seokjin cameo hehehe
> in which masterlist!
note: to make up for the pain i may have caused and will cause <3 LOL. i hope you enjoy reading as much as i enjoyed writing :D as always reblogs and feedback are appreciated! come chat w me. ily 🌼
“it’s so cold,” you mutter through chattering teeth.
the grocery bags sit on the hardwood table with a thud— the careless bringer too hasty. you shove your icy hands in the deep pockets of your jacket, breathing in and out with a sense of relief.
you are not granted the mundane euphoria for much longer, however. the doorbell rings and you are padding across the floor against your will. the cold air hits your face before it enters your apartment.
however, the happy smile that greets you blankets your heart with a type of warmth that is difficult to describe.
if you had to guess who was behind the door, you wouldn’t say the boy you’ve been fiercely pining over for the past month, but it is certainly who you’d be hoping for regardless.
“good morning!”
“oh! wait there for a moment!”
jungkook stands motionless by your open front door as you disappear into your apartment. confusion accompanied by curiosity, he tries poking his head inside, but then decides that he shouldn’t.
upon your return, his face lights up again.
“here you go!”
he accepts the jar of honey faster than he could think.
“w-why are you-?”
you tilt your head, lips forming a small pout. “isn’t that what you’re here for?”
“uh, actually-” he awkwardly pauses, hand that carries the heavy paper bag behind him suddenly feeling weak. “i came here to give you something.”
your eyes animatedly expand in surprise of the size of it, not at all expecting to receive a gift from him today. you do know that he’s fresh from japan, as you converse on the phone almost everyday… why would he come here almost immediately? and didn’t he say they weren’t given the chance to roam the city because of their work schedule?
“i just grabbed things i thought you might like. i hope i got most of them right?” he explains with a nervous chuckle as you take a look inside.
a diverse array of snacks; a beautiful journal painted with cherry blossoms; a hello kitty plushie; stickers, muji pens…
“oh my god, jungkook… these are too much. you didn’t have to.”
oh, curse the hopeless fluttering of your heart.
“wow, gifting your merch- that’s real idol behavior for you.” you tease him, referring to the hooded jacket that has their group logo on its plastic packaging. “thank you!”
“no but it seriously warms you up! i have one too!”
“jungkook, why are you so cute?!”
“ah, shut up! i’m getting embarrassed!” he whines, blushing. “just look at them later after i leave, how about that?”
“let go! it’s mine!” you glare at him, hugging the paper bag to your chest to deny his advances on snatching it away. “are you not leaving? don’t you have work?”
“i told you— it’s my rest day.”
“you did?”
“while we were texting last night.”
“oh,” you blink. “i don’t remember reading that.”
“you? what are you doing today?”
you bite back the smile threatening to give away the thoughts running in your mind a thousand miles per hour. why does he want to know?
“nothing special. just chores the entire day.”
jungkook puts his hand inside the pocket of his coat, an attempt to appear casual as he offers you his valiant effort. “do you want some help? i’m good at doing chores.”
you stare at him, perplexed, as if he just said the most ridiculous sentence you’ve ever heard in your entire life.
“it’s your rest day and you want to do chores?”
“sure,” he grins playfully, not at all seeing how that could be wrong. “why not?”
“you know…” you pause— observing his expression, considering shutting your mouth, but that plan rarely ever works out. “you can just say that you want to spend time with me, right?”
your bluntness sends his heart racing. you’re a danger to his health.
he sinks his perfect teeth on his bottom lip, bringing his dimples into view. to be honest, you didn’t always have a thing about dimples. you didn’t consider them all that special. but why do they make him look cute and sexy at the same time?
his cheeks become tinted with a pale scarlet. you’re wearing that friendly beam again; he doesn’t know how to act. he never knows whether you are joking or not.
“well, now i know.”
jungkook sets down the jar of honey on the table as he settles in the living room, fascinated doe eyes darting around every inch of your place. it’s not his first time here, but somehow, it looks different each time. the two frames hanging above the sofa captures his attention all over again, colorful drawings against the plain white wall. gifted to you by your siblings, you said.
a tall castle with a happy family. a little boy slaying a dragon to protect a princess from its savage fire.
he is blissfully unaware of the knowledge that the drawings are the lone survivors of a school bus and a tragedy. you want it to stay that way. you want people to feel the opposite of the sadness you feel when you look at them. that is how you seek your peace.
“are you wearing toe socks?”
“huh?” he makes a sound of confusion, only processing your question upon seeing your gaze trained to his feet. “ah- toe socks- yes.”
“i’m only noticing them now. they look funny.” you scrunch your nose, chuckling.
“don’t laugh! they’re so comfortable!”
“really?” your eyes widen with genuine interest. “i should try them then.”
“yeah, you should!”
he whips his head around as he jokingly voices out an observation.
“but ____, your house kind of looks different today… it’s almost like it’s cleaner than the last time i was here.”
you bury your face in your hands with a high-pitched wine, hiding from him in humiliation. you did not plan on inviting someone over that night, and he had to watch you run around organizing and picking up things— the scattered books all over the table and the floor; the jackets that have created a big heap on the small couch; the jewelry box that ended up on the dining table for some reason.
he laughs in endearment, unable to take his eyes from you. even the way your hair bounces as you furiously shake your head is pretty. wait, does that sound weird?
“that’s right, it should look different! the first thing i did when winter break started was clean up my mess.”
“what’s the first chore on the list then?” he catches the grocery bags in the kitchen from his peripheral. “were you putting away your groceries?”
“you really want to do chores? you don’t want to watch a movie or something?”
“aigoo, it’s fine!” he waves off your reluctance. “stop worrying! i already said i’d help you.”
“but it’s embarrassing…”
it’s either jungkook is denying your advances or he is simply dense. but the fact that he showed up at your door unannounced on his day-off despite complaining about his exhaustion from their hectic work schedule, you want to lean towards the latter and believe that he is… as good at chores like he claims to be.
“you must like fruits a lot.” jungkook comments as he is squatted infront of your fridge, sheltering the freshly bought perishables one by one.
kimchi, lettuce, strawberries, tangerines, shine muscat, apples…
this is an entirely different world through your lens.
it feels strange to watch another person restock your fridge for you.
“they’re easy to eat and i’m lazy to cook.”
he chuckles as he looks back at you, who is sat on the dining table, airy and carefree as you snack on a bag of assorted chocolates from the paper bag he brought. almost all of the white chocolates are gone, he notes.
“not because they’re nutritious?”
“that’s the bonus!”
“what is this?”
“cranberry juice.”
“and this?”
“oyster sauce.”
you energetically hop off the table, an idea lighting up the bulb in your mind.
“i have another recipe for you. french toast with strawberries, then drizzle some of the honey. should i make it for you?”
“ah!” he gasps as if he is in pain, but the truth is his mouth is watering. he hasn’t eaten breakfast, and he wanted to eat more for dinner last night but sleep proved to be much more enticing than food. “that sounds so good! i’m starving!”
“stand up!” you begin pulling at the back of his sweater, forcing him to remove himself from the floor. “i’ll make it! just go relax in the living room, okay?”
“but you just said you’re lazy to cook.” he tilts back his head, meeting your gaze. “i’ll help you.”
“i’m not lazy when it becomes to being a host.”
you bend down with a sweet smile, merely inches away from him, and jungkook swears the earth has stopped spinning on its axis. your face is natural and bare, except for the sheen of lip balm across your lips— and dear heavens, having you this close, you are so breathtakingly beautiful.
“they’re playing christmas movies on channel 36.” you announce, giving him the bag of chocolates. “and the remote is… somewhere on the sofa… or maybe the floor.”
and as he gets practically kicked out of the kitchen, your hands roughly pushing his back, he daydreams of kissing you and tasting sugar on your lips.
the sweet, addicting smell of the french toast— strong hints of butter and cinnamon— invades every corner of your apartment. consequently, it also compels jungkook to break your rules and insert himself in the kitchen again.
“you never give up, do you?”
“i don’t,” he agrees, nodding eagerly. he has successfully stolen the task of washing the strawberries, and then slicing them after. he endures the freezing water rendering his hands numb. “it’s a known fact.”
“are you saying i should study harder?” you cross your arms, expression painted with faux vexation.
“yes! exactly!” he humors you, grinning of amusement. “what’s my favorite color?”
you sigh, looking at him from head to toe.
“anyone can guess that from a mile away, jungkook.”
“fuck, okay. that’s fair!”
the sound of his laughter reminds of you reasons to stay through the cycle of the seasons. you don’t understand why, but for some reason, it has finally begun to feel like christmas. the only comfort that comes along with the cruel winter that nips at your skin; the blanket over your heart that provides a type of warmth one can travel to seek but will never be able to find alone.
“what’s my height then?”
“aren’t you six feet?”
the silence that follows is an answer enough for you. the noise of the television emerges now that none of you is talking. he pretends to be too busy to speak, transferring the strawberries over to the chopping board.
“yes, you’re ri-”
“liar!” you point an accusatory finger at him.
and he winces, guilty as charged.
“you hesitated!”
“tsk, i should’ve said yes faster! i wanted to experience what it’s like to be tall!” he regretfully purses his lips, eyebrows knitted as if he just lost the lottery. “but haven’t you read it online? even my shoe size and weight are there.”
“what? why do people even need to know that…?” you exclaim, flabbergasted. “i mean- of course i’ve searched up your name, but it feels like cheating on a test. does that sound silly…? it’s just more fun learning about you from you.”
you briefly walk away to grab a bottle of water from the fridge, and jungkook is left at the counter with fondness blossoming in his chest, bleeding into the chopped strawberries staining his hands red.
he calls out your name.
“mhmm?” you hum in question, muffled by the water in your mouth.
“want to hear a fact about me?”
you wipe your lips with the back of your hand, eyes expanding with fueled interest. “what?”
“i’m actually very good in the kitchen.” he boasts his skills with the kitchen knife, quick and precise, the blade against the wood creating the satisfying click you usually only hear from cooking shows. “are you seeing this? huh…? what do you think?”
“so i’ve noticed. i want something new!”
at that, his shoulder sags in disappointment. to his demise, there goes another failed attempt at making you acknowledge that he is boyfriend material.
“what do you want to know? ask me questions.”
“what’s your ideal type?”
being in your presence for the past hour has gotten jungkook re-adjusted to your personality— straight-forward, bold, smart— so vivacious that it’s dizzying. you make him nervous and comfortable at the same time, and he doesn’t quite know how to explain it either. but you’re a breath of fresh air, the change that he has been anticipating to disrupt his routine.
“why do you want to know that?”
you shrug coyly, smiling like the troublesome vixen that you are. you rather enjoy the tension that has hung in the air. if you’ve learned something from the past: men are easy to get, not easy to keep. because they relish in the chase, getting strung along like this. so, shouldn’t you have your fun too? but even if jungkook’s intentions were pure, you can only imagine that seeing someone whose life revolves around their career is… the perfect recipe for disaster.
“i think who you like also says a lot about who you are as a person.”
“i like someone who is kind and funny…” he hums in thought, unconsciously slotting a piece of strawberry in between his lips. “and passionate about the things they love… mhmm, someone who can be honest with me.”
his words form a constellation named after you, unbeknownst to you, and he wants to say more but anticipating what comes next after you connect the dots makes his stomach twist. he doesn’t feel like an adult yet. he’s still just a young boy with a gorgeous crush and high ambitions that coalesce in his dreams.
“i like someone who has a really pretty smile, too.”
and he should probably stop staring, erase the dumb lovesick smile on his face. for fuck’s sake, it would be easier for him if you would just do the same. behind the sparkles of your eyes, there is something he’s been dying to decipher.
“okay, why are you looking at me like that?”
because you are so pretty, especially when you smile.
“nothing,” he replies innocently. “you? what’s your ideal type? who do you like?”
“i don’t know… no one has captured my heart yet. they’re not trying hard enough!”
every romance you’ve had so far has been a letdown.
“but i’m still looking. i’m young, and hot, and the universe is vast.”
“mhm, i see… that’s true, but maybe… you don’t want to be looking too far.” jungkook suggests.
you smirk. “so you agree that i’m hot?”
“you know. you don’t need me to say it.” he chuckles, shaking his head.
“but i want to hear you say it.”
“you’re very beautiful, ____.”
“but that’s not-”
“the food is ready! let’s eat it before it gets cold!”
he runs to the living room without waiting for you, and you seize the opportunity to squeal without a sound, punching the counter without actually punching— releasing the giddiness threatening to spill from the seams of your heart.
you don’t know if this is heading somewhere, nor do you expect it to, but where you are right now is a good place to be.
the movie playing on the screen has become more of a white noise to you, a family comedy far less fascinating compared to jungkook drizzling honey over strawberries and bread from a spoon. you wonder if he is aware how often he creates sound effects while he is doing something.
beside you, his body quakes with cackles during the scenes that an editor would definitely insert the classic sound of an audience’s collective laughter and holler. you stumble upon the understanding that his happiness lies in a myriad of things, and you would envy him for it if not for the fact that he is currently sharing that happiness with you. you laugh when he laughs, and being becomes a little less heavier at that moment.
another commercial break rudely interrupts and jungkook turns towards you. the two of you sit cross-legged, knees knocking against each other as you occupy nearly the entire sofa.
“hi!”
“hi.”
“what are your plans for the holidays?”
“my best friend’s family invited me to stay with them for christmas until the new year. it’s kind of been a tradition since…”
the end of your sentence hangs suspended in the air. you still can’t say it out loud.
jungkook knows they’re gone and you’re alone: only the plain and brutal truths.
the reminder that this is the third christmas you will not spend with your family; the thought that this would be the third christmas they would spend without you if the afterlife was real— they bring tears to your eyes at once, but you forcibly blink them away, shoving enthusiasm down your throat.
“how about you?” you take a bite from your toast, attempting to divert your thoughts to… anything else. “are you coming home?”
you hide so well behind a smile. it doesn’t occur to jungkook that his question rubbed salt on an open wound.
“i miss my mom but i can’t go home yet.” he pouts. “i have work on christmas day as usual. we’ve been preparing hard for it.”
“oh, that’s right! gayo daejeon?!”
he nods in confirmation.
the music festival has been an annual event for his group since they debuted, and he never feels the need to complain because not everyone is given this kind of opportunity. what’s extraordinary for most has become his ordinary, and what was once his ordinary like everybody else’s has simply become a thing of the past. nevertheless, he does not have regrets. he is living a good life, one that he believes is his fate. as long as he has a voice and it is being heard, then his existence has meaning.
“your family will surely watch you, so they’re still celebrating it with you in a way. making them proud is the best christmas gift you can give!”
and right now, in his life, you are the cherry on top. you were so cheerful and supportive about the final shows of their tour as well, raving about how amazing it is to perform three nights in a row at gocheok skydome.
“i’ll watch you too!”
he can’t help it— you’re driving him to be better at what he does. childishly, he wants show off and be the one to capture your heart.
“ah!” he groans. “that means i should work harder at practice tomorrow! i can’t mess up infront of you and my family!”
“why not me? you want to make me proud too?” you interrogate him jokingly.
“of course, it’s my job. it’s what i do best. i’ll make you see!”
“use me as motivation then. you can’t mess up, okay? you have to do well, jungkook! you better not make a mistake! my eyes will be focused on you only!”
his face is reminiscent of a deer caught in the headlights— the headlights being your wide, threatening eyes.
he releases a shaky sigh in dramatic fashion. “i don’t feel motivated, though? i’m getting pressured?”
you wheeze; the plate over your lap tilts along with its contents.
“this is tough love!”
jungkook nearly staggers to his feet. “…love?”
you roll your eyes, small corners of your lips still cheekily lifted. “was the french toast good?”
jungkook is interrupted before he can form a response.
“but if it tastes like shit, just lie to me!”
“what are you talking about?!”
oh my god, you’re too fucking good at making him laugh.
“you’re eating it too! you know it’s delicious!”
“maybe you got a bad batch!”
“i’m going to the laundry shop across the street. i’ll just be a minute.” you announce, hauling a laundry basket to the living room.
your strained grunts prompt jungkook to look up from his phone, and eventually to stand up with urgency and relieve you of your heavy, heavy burden.
“shit, how heavy is this?”
you’re not given a chance to protest as the basket is immediately stolen from your grasp; your lips part open but no words come out.
“i’ll come with you!”
“well, hopefully not more than twelve kilos.”
it’s definitely heavier than usual; mainly comprised of the thick and layered clothes you’ve been wearing to shield yourself from the unforgiving cold.
“let’s go.”
jungkook wraps his hand around your wrist, gently tugging. the butterflies in your stomach wakes up earlier than spring’s arrival.
“this thing is bigger than you.”
an extremely obvious exaggeration.
“i’ll be the one to carry it.“
jungkook wears a cap and a face mask underneath his hoodie, eyes barely even visible in his all-black getup for the public to see; and somehow you also find yourself with a scarf around your neck, pulled up over the bridge of your nose.
when the year 2017 rolled in, you predicted that more crazy, life-altering stuff would happen. it has been an on-going theme, a relentless domino effect that has brought you to your knees time and time again. but you never would’ve fucking imagined that this is how you would be wrapping it up. how the hell did you cross paths with a famous idol, and why is he carrying your laundry basket right now?
“wait here for a bit.” you bring both hands to the basket’s handles, coaxing him to let go. “i’ll just bring it inside.”
“are you only dropping it off? that’s expensive!”
“what?” you stare at him in bewilderment, not expecting him to utter such statement at all. “you’re talking like you’re not rich!”
“i’m not! and still,” jungkook becomes flustered underneath his disguise. “it’s good to be practical. anyway, we have a lot of time.”
“you sound more like a mom than my mom did.”
“shhh!” he shushes you, putting a finger over his face mask. “let’s just do your laundry ourselves.”
“why would you do laundry right now? you’re supposed to be resting in the first place!”
a tug of war ensues infront of the laundry shop. strangers doesn’t know better. you look like a married couple bickering over who should take responsibility of the chore.
“____, just let me, mhm? i’m a pro at doing laundry too! we’ll be done before you know it!”
“how are you good at everything? honestly, it sounds like a scam!”
“how dare you doubt me?” he gasps in offense. “i do my own laundry!”
“seriously?” you quirk an eyebrow.
“i’m serious!”
“i don’t think i believe you, though…”
“if you search online, you-” your voice echoes in his mind, and subsequently, jungkook cuts himself off.
‘it feels like cheating on a test. it’s more fun learning about you from you.’
“oh, nevermind. let’s go inside already. i’m freezing!”
“jungkook!” you whine, stomping your feet on the ground as you refuse to let go of the basket despite jungkook beginning to head inside.
“why?” he copies the childishness of your tone, and although you can’t see his face, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes tell you enough.
“we can’t…”
the adorable sight of you appearing to be so shy is foreign to him. he can’t help but to chuckle. “why not?”
your lips form a pout.
“my panties…”
you bring a finger to point at the basket.
“they’re in there too… i was only going to drop them off today because you came with me…”
“ah…” jungkook awkwardly freezes, unblinking. “wait, you’re right?”
why didn’t he think of that? he’s a fucking idiot. of fucking course. what if you take things the wrong way and you’re creeped out by him now?!
“fuck, sorry. i’m sorry. i wasn’t- um, i swear i wasn’t trying to…”
his tongue becomes tied, struggling to search for the words that won’t make him sound like a damn pervert.
yeah, way to go, jungkook. you’re not the fucking boyfriend yet and you’re ruining your chances.
“did i make you uncomfortable? i’m sorry. it probably looked li-”
“hey, breathe, calm down. it’s alright, jungkook.”
you giggle in amusement, placing a hand over his chest— his heart. it’s meant to ease him, but the knowledge that you’re feeling his racing heartbeat only causes it to further intensify. he swallows the lump in his throat, dumbfounded by the turn of events. he wants the ground to swallow him whole, but he also wants to stay in this moment a little while longer.
“it’s alright. i’ll go bring this inside then i’ll treat you to lunch at the restaurant over there! don’t run away from me, okay?”
“the yukgaejang looks good.” you utter absentmindedly, admiring the spicy beef soup with plentiful vegetables from afar. “i’m jealous of you.”
the other tables are already having a feast while you and jungkook are waiting for your take-out to be prepared.
“then you should’ve ordered it too.” jungkook scolds you lightheartedly. “should i go?”
“no! i’m not good with spicy food. spice makes me cry.”
he smiles softly. once again, you complete the picture from his eyes. “what is there to frown so sadly about?”
“i feel like i’m missing out.” you complain, the pout on your face almost permanent. “spicy food is like one of the trademarks of korea, you know? but i can’t handle it!”
“so cute…” jungkook has decided to give in to his impulses, it seems— the evidence is him pinching your cheek for the very first time, and with the discovery of its delightsome softness, it will definitely not be the last.
“oh, oh, oh! an eyelash!”
his doe eyes glisten with pure wonder and excitement, and the air in your lungs becomes suspended when his hand moves to tenderly cup the side of your face. as he is absorbed in capturing the tiny eyelash that has fallen and glued itself on your cheek, your mind reels with the size of his hand, the sensation of his innocent touch against your neck.
“aaand-” jungkook takes your hand, passing on the eyelash to your index finger. “there you go. make a wish!”
your eyes flicker down, and none of you speaks for a moment or two.
a wish…?
what does one wish for when they have given up on wishing for miracles?
“did you do it?”
you peek at jungkook, nodding. at last, you blow the eyelash away, outside the window, where it becomes one with the snowflakes that came from the same sky where wishes are supposedly granted.
“what did you wish for?”
“i’ll tell you when it comes true.”
jungkook eats so well— you feel full just by watching him eat. so when he asked you, eyebrows knitted and legs bouncing, if he could have more rice, you were left with no choice but to plug in the rice cooker for the second time today. you cooked only enough for two meals today: brunch and dinner for one. you’re more than happy to have given him the dinner portion. you like that your apartment is providing warmth for another soul, despite the old times that it housed ones that ended up haunting you.
“are there any more chores to do? while we wait for the rice?”
you gaze switches from him to the living room.
the boy who was knocking at your door is now vacuuming your floors.
you sit on the couch with your legs hugged to your chest, chin propped on your knees. an unexplainable feeling swims in your chest, but your heart calls to welcome it. not to be delusional, but technically, isn’t this a marriage proposal?
it falls on dear ears— the infuriating sound of the cheap vacuum cleaner your landlord lended you and never came back for. underneath it is jungkook’s mellifluous voice, humming and singing, and it’s all you can hear.
the only use you knew of honey is the magic it does with tea for a sore throat. when you learned about his demanding occupation, he is all you can think of in relation to the elixir. since then, you’ve been taking the god awful amount of honey your pesky neighbor provides without any complaints.
this is nice… this is good. you are glad that you opened the door.
after a hearty and satisfying meal, you and jungkook retired to your previous spots infront of the television screen. more of the snacks he bought for you ended up being shared. near your stacks of books are colorful food wrappers and half-empty glasses of water. two mediocre yet entertaining movies later, you tell jungkook that you should pick up your laundry before the shop closes in an hour. however, after he has excused himself to the bathroom, he is greeted by the sight of you peacefully asleep on the sofa.
once more, a new side of you is laid bare, and his affection grows. he doesn’t know when he can admire your face this close again without melting from your stare.
heedful of disturbing your much deserved rest, he carefully places a pillow beneath your head, and he pulls down the blanket you’re wrapped in to cover your cold feet.
with one last stolen glimpse, he grabs your key and receipt from the bowl and leaves.
“is it time for you to leave?” you delicately rub at your eyes that are still half-closed; voice quiet, barely there.
you were awoken by the front door opening and closing, but nothing has quite registered to your fuzzy brain yet, except for the coat that you neatly kept and is already re-worn by its owner.
and he knows you’re most probably just sleepy, but the way you’re gazing at him as if you’re sad to see him go makes his heart clench.
“no, i picked up your laundry.” he enlightens you, consciously speaking with refined tenderness, as to preserve the serenity that has enveloped the atmosphere. “i can stay until eight. is that okay?”
you release a weary sigh, nodding. “of course… and you’re such a nice friend, thank you.”
he plops down on the sofa, filling the jungkook-shaped space beside you.
tired… you’re so tired… despite the given privilege to finally sleep to your heart’s content, you’re still so tired. your forehead lands softly on his shoulder, and unbeknownst to you due to your stupor, jungkook’s breath hitches— the polar opposite of the steady rise and fall of your chest. you make him swoon. he deliberately ignores the fact that you just called him a friend.
you peer down at the floor, past the curtain of your disheveled hair, slowly blinking. those ridiculous toe socks… you giggle in secret.
“jungkook?”
“yes?”
“are you cold?”
“freezing.”
you lift your head and he knows— you have to be playing games with his heart, bringing the temptation to kiss you so painfully close. “do you want some tea?”
the performance has commenced but the passionate screams of the audience still rings in jungkook’s ears as he runs backstage, chased by the staff attempting to wipe the sweat he is practically bathing in. he squeezes one eye shut as beads of sweat threaten to enter it. his chest heaves with exhaustion and his heart pumps with overwhelming adrenaline. most of the time, this job doesn’t feel real. he feels high. this is the textbook definition of a dream.
“where’s my phone? please? does anyone have it?” he yells in the midst of the chaos and clamor as he completely strips off his in-ears.
a hand reaches towards him with the device, and his expression of gratitude gets lost somewhere among the repetitive reminders of the remaining time before they should have returned to their designated seats.
he allows the hair and make-up stylists to do their jobs, him as their doll in need of a retouch. on the other hand, he impatiently waits for his phone to power on.
the tapping of jungkook’s foot ceases, and from his glowing reflection on the vanity mirror, the clueless people surrounding him witnesses love strike.
guess my eyelash wish worked like a charm. your performances went really well
and you looked so cool on stage ☺️
merry christmas jungkook ❤️
“jungkook-ah, what are you smiling at?!”
seokjin cackles. jungkook didn’t even notice him roll his chair so close. he then decides to play dumb to tease their youngest one.
“wow, who is this ____ you’re texting?”
“hyung!” jungkook panics, hissing underneath his breath. “lower your voice!”
“ouch!” seokjin yells, rubbing his arm that was hit as a punishment.
he allows a moment of silence.
his expression goes blank and he avenges himself.
“ah!” jungkook gasps as the slap on his thigh resonates, forced to be ripped away from overthinking a text message. “hyung! you better start running!”
Draft: i know it’s late.. but can i see you later?|
taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D
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galamalion · 3 months
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୨୧. 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐄
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summary. luffy's relationship with hancock begins to strike a deep nerve within you.
⤷ contents. monkey d. luffy x gn!reader, fluff + angst, boa hancock is rude, jealous!reader, light angst (resolved by the end), slight miscommunication // wc. 2.1k
⤷ notes. request by @amortentiaz for a jealous!reader over luffy's relationship with boa hancock. i think i got a little too invested in writing reader's anger, maybe i should write some more angst... i hope you enjoy! <3
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Your boyfriend wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed.
Was he caring? Of course, he cuddled and hugged and kissed you near constantly. Was he attentive? Easily, he always wanted to snuggle with you, no matter your location—even if it led to some unfortunate circumstances.
But he may just be the most scatterbrained boyfriend anyone could ask for, and your current situation was perhaps the best example of his obliviousness.
"Ah, Luffy! I have more food if you want it!"
"Really?! Thank you, Hancock!"
You and Luffy had gotten pulled off your ship by a terrible storm, only a small makeshift raft of wood to keep you afloat. A miracle had led you to land on Amazon Lily, an island led by a woman with a fixation for Luffy.
And so here you were, stuck watching the most beautiful woman in the world drape herself over your boyfriend like they'd been married for the last thirty years. Sure, your boyfriend was the greatest catch in the East Blue, but he was your boyfriend. Not Hancock's 'sweetie pie honey bun super-special pirate king.'
You had just finished talking with Jimbei through the snail transponder, who informed you that the ship would be there tomorrow in the morning. Unfortunately, that meant you would have to stay here.
"Alright, Luffy," you sighed, "The Thousand Sunny will be here in the morning, which means that we're stuck here for tonight."
"There's a room prepared for you in the palace if you need it, Luffy! I can have whatever you need brought there," Hancock swooned, feeding Luffy a drumstick.
"Ooh! Hey, is there anything you need, ____?" Luffy turned to ask, voice muffled by all the meat stuffed inside his mouth.
You looked behind Luffy to meet eyes with Hancock, watching her expression sour at the mention of your name.
"I think I'm fine. Thanks, Luf," you muttered, crossing your arms.
"Ok, but Hancock can bring us anything, so if you change your mind you can ask her!" he grinned, taking another large bite of the drumstick.
You sighed, briefly meeting eyes with Hancock who silently scoffed at your presence. Angrily, you stomped out of the palace and out of the town, going far, far away from the oh-so benevolent queen of the island.
As you walked into the expansive forest of the island, you began kicking a rock with each step, muttering under your breath.
"Oh Luffy, here's some yummy food!" you kicked the rock. "Oh Luffy, what dress do you think I should wear?" you kicked the rock. "Oh Luffy, you should break up and we should get married and have a bunch of tiny beautiful babies!"
You kicked the rock off the path, watching it roll off into underbrush and onto the grass floor of the forest.
"Go on then," you grumbled, "go get married to the prettiest girl in the world! then you can really be King of the Pirates..."
As you walked further into the tropical forest of the island, you came upon a rocky cliff, a beautiful location covered in small plants and light foliage. Rocks jutting out harshly in every which way, moss growing upon it, unbothered and untouched.
This is just what you need.
You stepped up to the edge of the cliff and gazed at the forest below, wild and vibrant green hues filling up every space you looked at. The sky was similar, a brilliant cloudless blue, like a calm blue sea without a boat in sight. You could stare at this serene scene for all of eternity, if only time allowed.
Sighing wistfully, you closed your eyes and stretched your body, taking a deep breath.
And then, you screamed.
You screamed at nothing and everything, all at once. At Hancock and Luffy, together, singularly, at their actions, at their attitudes. You shrieked at Hancock's cruel expressions, her blatant disregard for your own feelings. You screeched at Luffy's oblivious disposition, his inability to realize how you felt about all of this. You screamed until your throat burned, until you could feel your eyes welling up with tears and your screams turned into sobs turned into silent crying.
Needless to say, it was a much needed catharsis.
You calmed yourself down and walked back to the bustling city, taking in the nature surrounding you. As you continued walking, a long, rubbery leg touched down onto the forest path. The leg was attached to your boyfriend, who jumped down from the trees with a bewildered and frightened expression on his face.
"Are you okay ____?!" I heard—"
"I'm fine," you snapped, brushing past him.
Luffy gave you a confused look as you walked towards the village, on your way to check out the room in the palace Hancock so graciously gave you.
It was placed right next door to Hancock's own chambers, no doubt because she wanted to keep Luffy close, but the interior was far more shocking. Instead of a giant king sized bed in the middle, two beds—one far bigger than the other—with a great deal of space separating them were inside. It was almost too obvious to tell which bed was Luffy's, given the amount of food and gift baskets surrounding it.
You were just shocked that she put you in Luffy in the same room.
Deciding it wasn't worth complaining about, you instead searched around the castle in search of a library, a place Luffy would never look for you.
It wasn't that you were mad at him. No, it would be more accurate to say that you were furious. But you knew deep inside your mind that it wasn't his fault. But you also knew that if you saw him again, you would blow up, explode, in his face.
You stayed in the library until midnight, reading fairy tales and historical texts, immersing yourself in the stories and history these books contained. You could feel the anger and jealousy in your veins dwindle with each page you read.
Once you had returned your amassed collection of books back to their shelves, you made your way back to your room. Expectations were low, you were fairly certain that Luffy wouldn't have a clue regarding your feelings, and a conversation would most certainly need to happen.
Walking quietly to your shared room, you carefully opened the door. the first thing you noticed was that Luffy was still awake, crouched in the middle of his bed. It wasn't strange for Luffy to be awake so late in the night, knowing that his sleep schedule was pretty irregular, but an unusually upset expression was etched into his face.
The second thing you noticed was that the delicious gifts surrounding his bed were uneaten, unopened, the wrapping on a few having not been touched.
Luffy noticed you immediately, the corners of his lips pulling down even further, his brow furrowed in a mixture of, seemingly, sadness and confusion, like a puppy watching their owner leave for the first time.
"Are you mad at me?" he blurted out quietly, clutching his knees.
All you could do was sigh in response, moving to sit on your own bed.
"I don't know," you confessed, looking away from him. "I'm...mad, yeah. But at you? I don't know."
Luffy remained quiet until you decided to break the silence.
"Hancock is pushy," you crossed your arms, "she's pushing my boundaries and she's pushing her way between us. I know she's a friend of yours and she's helped you a lot, but it hurts to watch her snuggle up to you and talk about the 'love' between you."
You looked up at Luffy, seeing the realization and hurt flood his eyes, his fingers twitching as his legs slid towards the edge of the bed.
He didn't say anything yet, instead squeezing the blankets and looking down at his feet, clearly composing his thoughts.
"I'm sorry, ____," Luffy whispered, standing up from the bed. "I know Hancock does nice things for me, but I don't see her like I see you,"
"Then why don't you tell her off? Tell her to leave you alone, tell her you're in a relationship?" you pushed, feeling the jealousy seething out of you.
Luffy frowned and walked closer to you, sitting down on your bed. "You're the greatest treasure I've ever found," he confessed, moving his hands to yours, "it's like you're so shiny and bright, and everybody else is all gray. I know Hancock talks a lot and gives me a lot of food, but if you don't want me to talk or take stuff from her, then I won't, promise!"
Despite your attempts to remain stoic, you were unable to disguise the twinge of a smile caused by Luffy's statement, choosing to nuzzle your face in his neck to hide.
"You don't have to ignore her, Luf. Just ask her to tone it down, maybe? She is the queen of this place. Even if I'm mad at her, I'd rather not piss off someone who can kill us with a snap of her fingers," you mumbled, playing with his vest.
Luffy gave you a big hug, wrapping his rubbery arms around once, and then twice. "If she tries to hurt you, then I'll stop her! You're way more awesome than her," Luffy declared with a pout, falling back into your tiny bed with you in his arms, "and I promise I'll be an extra awesome boyfriend for you."
"You're too sweet, Luf," you laughed softly, hugging him tighter. "But maybe we should move to the bigger bed?"
"I'm too tired, and I'm already comfy," he whined.
"Fine," you grumbled, too tired to argue with your much stronger boyfriend (and captain.)
"G'night, ____," Luffy hummed, pulling you closer to his chest.
You smiled, shutting your eyes, "Night, Luffy."
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The morning seemed to come swiftly, light spilling into the room and striking your face. Your boyfriend was still wrapped around you like a vice, caging you tightly against his chest.
"Luffy," you groaned, trying to push him away, "you gotta let me go, it's time to get up,"
Luffy moaned and pressed his face to your chest, "Five more minutes, pretty please?"
"Jimbei said the ship would be here in the morning, the mor-ning, Luf. If we're late to meet them then Nami will beat our asses."
"Then I'll beat her up!"
"Then I'll have to dig your grave."
Luffy pouted and retracted his arms, crossing them, "Fine, we can go now."
Now free from you boyfriend's hold, you and Luffy changed your clothes for the new day, then exited the bedroom.
Immediately upon opening the door, you were greeted with the beautiful, illuminating face of Boa Hancock, who was clearly shocked and upset to see you exit with Luffy.
"Ah, Luffy! I just wanted to see if you wanted to have breakfast? I've had 60 eggs cooked and 30 plates of meat—"
"Sorry, Hancock!" Luffy interrupted, scooping you up and throwing you over his shoulder, "we've gotta go!"
"But—"
Without letting her get another word out, Luffy sprinted through the halls of the palace and out of an expansive window, stretching his way across the viridian forest below.
The sights below were familiar, but it was strange seeing them down below. You could make out the path you travelled through the leaves, even catching a glimpse of the cliff you had stood on last night, a horrible moment during a horrible day that seemed so far away now.
As Luffy jumped from tree to tree, occasionally breaking through the canopy to give you that bird's-eye view, you eventually landed at the gate to Amazon Lily, where the thousand sunny was currently floating.
"Hey, lovebirds!" Nami yelled up, waving her arms, "you're just in time! Let's get out of here!"
"Please, let me go! I need to get onto that island!" Sanji cried out, held in place by Robin's devil fruit-generated limbs.
Luffy let out a boisterous laugh, "We're comin' down! Let's go, ____!" he howled, sprinting towards the ledge.
You looked over your shoulder, fear in your eyes, "Luffy, don't you dare!"
Luffy, ignoring your pleas for a safer entrance, leapt onto the ship with a battle cry, landing perfectly on the wooden deck with you in hand. He gently set you down, flashing a grin as he patted your shoulder.
"Wasn't that fun?!" Luffy exclaimed, dusting off his straw hat.
You collapsed in shock, sprawling your limbs out on the deck as you recovered from your near-death situation.
"We'll...we'll work on that," you panted, desperately attempting to catch your breath.
"Sweet! Let's go now!" Luffy cheered, pulling you back up
"Go? Where?" you asked, astonished, "we just got back to the ship?"
"I told ya, I'm gonna be and extra super awesome boyfriend!" he beamed, "now we have to go do some extra super awesome stuff!"
He once again wrapped you up in his arms, flashing a smile as he hugged you.
"I promise I'm gonna be a way better boyfriend from now on, I won't disappoint you!" he beamed.
You smiled back and ruffled his hair, kissing his forehead.
"You're already the best boyfriend I could ask for, Luffy."
"But I can be better!"
"Better than best?"
"Best of the best!"
You threw you head back and laughed, squeezing him back.
"Alright, Luf. Show me what you have in mind."
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An Epic antitrust loss for Google
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A jury just found Google guilty on all counts of antitrust violations stemming from its dispute with Epic, maker of Fortnite, which brought a variety of claims related to how Google runs its app marketplace. This is huge:
https://www.nytimes.com/2023/12/11/technology/epic-games-google-antitrust-ruling.html
The mobile app store world is a duopoly run by Google and Apple. Both use a variety of tactics to prevent their customers from installing third party app stores, which funnels all app makers into their own app stores. Those app stores cream an eye-popping 30% off every purchase made in an app.
This is a shocking amount to charge for payment processing. The payments sector is incredibly monopolized and notorious for its price-gouging – and its standard (wildly inflated) rate is 2-5%:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/04/owning-the-libs/#swiper-no-swiping
Now, in theory, Epic doesn't have to sell in Google Play, the official Android app store. Unlike Apple's iOS, Android permit both sideloading (installing an app directly without using an app store) and configuring your device to use a different app store. In practice, Google uses a variety of anticompetitive tricks to prevent these app stores from springing up and to dissuade Android users from sideloading. Proving that Google's actions – like paying Activision $360m as part of "Project Hug" (no, really!) – were intended to prevent new app storesfrom springing up was a big lift for Epic. But they managed it, in large part thanks to Google's own internal communications, wherein executives admitted that this was exactly why Project Hug existed. This is part of a pattern with Big Tech antitrust: many of the charges are theoretically very hard to make stick, but because the companies put their evil plans in writing (think of the fraudulent crypto exchange FTX, whose top execs all conferred in a groupchat called "Wirefraud"), Big Tech keeps losing in court:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/03/big-tech-cant-stop-telling-on-itself/
Now, I do like to dunk on Big Tech for this kind of thing, because it's objectively funny and because the companies make so many unforced errors. But in an important sense, this kind of written record is impossible to avoid. Any large institution can only make and enact policy through administrative systems, and those systems leave behind a paper-trail: memos, meeting minutes, etc. Yes, we all know that quote from The Wire: "Is you taking notes on a fucking criminal conspiracy?" But inevitably, any ambitious conspiracy can only exist if someone is taking notes.
What's more, any large conspiracy involving lots of parties will inevitably produce leaks. Think of this as the corollary to the idea that the moon landing can't be a hoax, because there's no way 400,000 co-conspirators could keep the secret. Big Tech's conspiracies required hundreds or even thousands of collaborators to keep their mouths shut, and eventually someone blabs:
https://www.science.org/content/article/fake-moon-landing-you-d-need-400000-conspirators
This is part of a wave of antitrust cases being brought against the tech giants. As Matt Stoller writes, the guilty-on-all-counts jury verdict will leak into current and future actions. Remember, Google spent much of this year in court fighting the DoJ, who argued that the company bribed Apple not to make a competing search engine, paying tens of billions every year to keep a competitor from emerging. Now that a jury has convinced Google of doing that to prevent alternative app stores from emerging, claims that it used these pay-for-delay tactics in other sectros get a lot more credible:
https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/boom-google-loses-antitrust-case
On that note: what about Apple? Epic brought a very similar case against Apple and lost. Both Apple and Epic are appealing that case to the Supreme Court, and now that Google has been convicted in a similar case, it might prompt the Supremes to weigh in and resolve the seeming inconsistencies in the interpretation of federal law.
This is a key moment in the long project to wrest antitrust away from the pro-monopoly side, who spent decades "training" judges to produce verdicts that run counter to the plain language of America's antitrust law:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/08/13/post-bork-era/#manne-down
There's 40 years' worth of bad precedent to overturn. The good news is that we've got the law on our side. Literally, the wording of the laws and the records of the Congressional debate leading to their passage, all militate towards the (incredibly obvious) conclusion that the purpose of anti-monopoly law is to fight monopoly, not defend it:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/14/aiming-at-dollars/#not-men
It's amazing to realize that we got into this monopoly quagmire because judges just literally refused to enforce the law. That's what makes one part of the jury verdict against Google so exciting: the jury found that Google's insistence that Play Store sellers use its payment processor was an act of illegal tying. Today, "tying" is an obscure legal theory, but few doctrines would be more useful in disenshittifying the internet. A company is guilty of illegal tying when it forces you to use unrelated products or services as a condition of using the product you actually want. The abandonment of tying led to a host of horribles, from printer companies forcing you to buy ink at $10,000/gallon to Livenation forcing venues to sell tickets through its Ticketmaster subsidiary.
The next phase of this comes when the judge decides on the penalty. Epic doesn't want cash damages – it wants the judge to order Google to fulfill its promise of "an open, competitive Android ecosystem for all users and industry participants." They've asked the judge to order Google to facilitate third-party app stores, and to separate app stores from payment processors. As Stoller puts it, they want to "crush Google’s control over Android":
https://www.epicgames.com/site/en-US/news/epic-v-google-trial-verdict-a-win-for-all-developers
Google has sworn to appeal, surprising no one. The Times's expert says that they will have a tough time winning, given how clear the verdict was. Whatever this means for Google and Android, it means a lot for a future free from monopolies.
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/12/im-feeling-lucky/#hugger-mugger
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whatsnewalycat · 3 days
Text
SURRENDER
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Part Two of Ruthless | Stepdad Joel Miller x f!Reader
Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY)
Word Count: 6.2k+
Warnings: non-canon, Boston Joel, dub con, step-cest, sneaky sex, use of the word daddy in a sexual context, dad kink (that’s a thing right?), age gap, degradation, praise kink, avoidance, silent treatment, sneaking into bedroom at night, angst, collective grief, mentions of explosions and gunshots (nothing graphic), *it’s about the yearning*, hair pulling, no physical descriptions of reader aside from hair can be pulled, reader is 18-19, Joel being a bad dom and a bad caretaker, hot shower, food mention, mentions of religion, unethical D/s dynamics, dry humping, anal sex, physical restraint, face fucking, sub-space unlocked, dirty talk, dd/lg maybe i think, masochism, like a lick of fluff if u squint 
A/N: Heeeey buddy. As stated above, this is a second part to Ruthless. Big thanks to my love @frannyzooey for the help and hype, you're the best. Please be mindful of the warnings and tell me what cults you think exist in post-outbreak tlou.
[ my masterlist ] [ taglist ] [ AO3 ]
———
As the 19-year anniversary of Outbreak Day draws near, unrest festers in the streets of Boston.
Whenever August ticks over into September, residents of the QZ seem to divide into three distinct categories: people who want to forget, people who won’t let them forget, and people who are too young to remember. 
Born post-apocalypse, you fall into this third category. 
Which doesn’t mean the ripples of loss don’t touch you, contrary to what some may think. You still lost something. Everyone did. 
This fact is apparent when you take the scenic route home from your job posting at the distribution center. 
Rubble crunches under your shoes as you walk down the crowded sidewalk, passing by a message spray-painted over the battered brick building: WE’VE BEEN FORSAKEN. 
Graffitied sentiments like these pop up constantly this time of year. Overnight, almost. Your mom and Joel mostly blame Fireflies for the vandalism. The bombs, too. Apparently they stir shit up to make people uneasy, then recruit those who seem susceptible. That’s what your mom thinks, anyway. ‘Leveraging their grief against them,’ she says. 
You think it might be more than that, though. 
Yesterday you saw three separate arguments break out in the streets. When you were taking inventory of k-rations this morning, an explosion went off so close-by that boxes rattled off the shelves. It was the second bombing this week, and you don’t foresee it getting better until October. 
Sure, the Fireflies lay claim to the lion’s share of vandalism and destruction, but their activity is consistent year round. They are the baseline. But this? This is different. 
You attribute the excess chaos to this heavy, static feeling in the air. It clings to your skin and gets stuck under your nails like a thick cloud of invisible dust or spores. Microscopic particles embed themselves in the cracks and creases of each person inside the QZ, fertile ground for clusters of violence to sprout up at every turn. 
If you had to guess, you’d say this phenomenon probably spans the globe. All of you felt the loss of Outbreak Day, the whole human collective. Echoes of what humanity lost will likely still be heard a thousand years from now. 
Some people refuse to accept this. 
Like the guy a few strides ahead of you, who walks by an orange spray-painted message that reads REMEMBER WHAT YOU LOST and sneers, “Almost twenty goddamn years, fuckin’ let it go and move on.” 
You watch him. See his neck get all red as he mutters to himself and clenches his fists at his sides. He looks around like he expects someone to challenge him. Nobody does. 
This doesn’t seem to satisfy him. 
Further up the sidewalk, he encounters a memorial made up of candles and wilting flowers hugging the side of a residential building. He kicks it over and repeats his earlier sentiment, this time louder and directed towards the brick wall. 
“It’s been twenty fucking years, get the fuck over it already!” 
Of course, a passing spectator indulges him. 
“Hey—watch it, asshole!” 
The two men puff up their chests and start yelling back and forth, so you cut right down an alleyway to avoid the situation completely. 
When you arrive home, you find Joel at the dining room table, hunched over a map, holding a glass of whiskey like it’s a lifeline. 
Neither of you say hello, but when you glance up while untying your gritty shoelaces, you catch him staring at you. 
A jolt of electricity shoots through you. 
He corrects himself, returning his eyes to the map as he takes a big swig from his glass. 
“Mom home?” 
“No.” 
Nodding, you rise to your feet and slip out of your shoes, squirming with the excitement that one syllable brings you. 
“When’s she gonna be home?” 
He doesn’t look at you. Just shrugs and takes a sip of whiskey, too engrossed in his project to spare you attention. 
For weeks, he’s been trying his hardest to pretend you don’t exist, which would be typical behavior if he didn’t fuck you dumb a few weeks ago. Sometimes you’re not even sure that what happened between you was real. 
But, then again, sometimes… sometimes you feel him staring at you when he doesn’t think you’ll notice. Sometimes he touches your waist as he passes by. Sometimes at night you hear him pacing the hall outside your bedroom, the faint squeak of the warped floorboards giving him away. 
When this happens, you stare at the door and will him to do it. Aching with something stronger than want, you pray for him to cross the threshold. But he never does. 
You exhale through slack lips and wrinkle your nose at the canned goods. 
“Hungry?”
He grunts in response, which is Joel for ‘I could eat.’
Tilting your head at the handwritten labels, you present the options, “Stew or… meat and beans?” 
Another grunt, roughly translating to ‘Both options are fucking terrible,’ a sentiment with which you wholeheartedly agree. You grab the stew and empty it into a saucepan on the gas stovetop. 
While it heats, you steal glances at Joel, noticing the rigidity in his demeanor. His set jaw and tense muscles. The deep creases in his furrowed brow. 
You’ve coexisted with him long enough to understand he’s not immune to the heady thrum of anguish in the air this time of year. Like you said, nobody is. 
Joel distinctly falls into the “people who want to forget” category of the forsaken, but carries whatever or whoever he lost on Outbreak Day like a ten thousand-pound weight on his broad shoulders. He white-knuckles his way through the season of chaos and mourning and tries to act like it doesn’t affect him, but it does. 
You can tell, not just from the way he holds the grief captive in his body, but also from the obvious indulgence in his favorite coping mechanism: planning. 
Joel is a meticulous planner. 
Between smuggling runs, he comes home after a long day of manual labor at some job site and unwinds by plotting logistics. Drinking, too, but he clearly has a favorite. 
Hours will go by while he pours over reference material, maps or blueprints, making addendums of any notable changes he and your mom discovered. After this, he deliberates. Joel could chew up weeks with this step. He plots out each possible route, taking into consideration all the penciled-in shortcuts and caches they’ve stashed within a 30-mile radius, then determines the most beneficial path for their next big adventure. 
Given FEDRA’s current paranoid state, with the increased patrols and surveillance and whatnot, your mom and Joel won’t be making a trip outside anytime soon. But still, he drinks and plots and winds himself up into a tight obsessive knot. 
You divvy up the simmering stew into two bowls, placing one next to his glass of bootleg booze while you take a seat across the table from him. He ignores your presence, just flicks his eyes around the map like it’s supposed to give him the answers. 
When you’re halfway done with your bowl, you gently prod him, “It’s gonna get cold.” 
Sitting up in his chair, he sighs and scrubs his face with his hands, then folds up the map and sets it aside. 
The two of you eat in silence. Each wordless second twists hot beneath your skin. Your mind wanders to the dig of his fingertips in your soft flesh. The sting of his flattened palm. The stretch of his thick cock. The things he said to you—fuck.  
You’re tempted to tell him to do it again. To tell him that you’re still abiding by his rules. That you don’t sneak out anymore. That you haven’t felt the sweet bliss of release for weeks because you don’t fucking come without his permission. 
Over and over, you rehearse it in your head. You imagine yourself telling him, ‘I’ve been so good for you and you haven’t even noticed.’
The sound of him clearing his throat pulls you from your thoughts. 
He shifts in his seat a little, studying you, “You still seein’ that boy downstairs?” 
Your heart stutters. Heat floods your veins as you shake your head. 
“Why not?” 
All you can do is stare at him while trying to verbalize an answer. For weeks, you ached for his attention. And now that you have it? The words are stuck in your throat. 
You shrug, pushing your empty bowl away to lean your elbows on the table. When you look up at him again, he blinks. Waiting for a response. 
A rush of adrenaline makes the world around you buzz. 
“Why do you care?”
He clenches his jaw for a moment, then parts his lips to respond. 
The apartment door swings open. 
Both of you start at the intrusion. You jump to your feet to collect the dirty dishes while Joel turns to greet your mother. 
“It’s a fucking madhouse out there,” she grumbles, then pulls out the seat adjacent to him and starts telling him about her day. 
———
You step into the shower and hiss in reaction to the scalding hot water. 
The fact that it's warmed at all surprises you. Not an unwelcome surprise, even if it hurts a little. Most days the water comes out tepid at best, and you’d gladly accept a third-degree burn over a lukewarm shower. 
Besides, the sting feels right on your skin, as weird as that sounds. You relish the pain while washing yourself, thinking, ‘this is what I deserve for feeling this way.’ Hell fire, if the sidewalk preachers are right. If there is such a thing. If you’re not there already. 
Only once the water runs cold do you turn it off and go back to your room, leaving the door cracked open behind you. After putting on a big t-shirt and some underwear, you turn off the lights and climb into bed. 
For a while you stare at the water-stained ceiling and listen. You hear the roar of FEDRA’s armed vehicles patrolling the streets. Far away, gunshots ring out into the night. Some kid starts crying next door, then his mother lulls him back to sleep. 
Closing your eyes, you try to tune it all out and focus on the noises within this unit. Concentrate on the drip-drip-drip of the bathtub faucet. The ripping sound of your mom’s snores. 
Then, you hear it. 
A creak from the floorboards. Footsteps. 
Their bedroom door squeaking open. 
Everything goes silent long enough for you hold your breath and scream inside your head, please please please—
It starts again. One careful step, then another. 
His presence hovers there at the door for six restless seconds before he opens it and steps inside, closing it behind him. 
Your pounding heart squeezes your breath ragged. It comes out this shallow, shaky push and pull that broadcasts your consciousness. 
Still, you pretend. 
You keep your eyes pinned shut and listen to the advance of his footsteps to your bedside. 
Down by your feet, the mattress shifts under his weight. He doesn’t touch you for a while, only watches you, his gaze burning into your skin. 
Then, he murmurs, “I know you’re not sleepin’.” 
You blink your eyes open to look at him, in boxers and an undershirt, all hunched over at the foot of your bed. Always carrying that weight on his shoulders. The glow of the street lamp outside your bedroom window casts this perfect golden light on him that makes you kind of hate how good he looks. 
“What are you doing?” you ask in a whisper. 
Over the blanket, he rests his hand on your calf, then takes it back and shakes his head. 
You roll onto your side, swinging one leg over the blanket and tucking it between your thighs, a wordless plea for him to touch your hungry skin. Joel shifts further onto the bed, turning his body to stare down at you with a straight spine. His gaze drifts up your exposed skin, fingers twitching in his lap. 
This faltering self-discipline compels you. 
Joel is nothing if not self-disciplined. That much is true for all the forsaken, yourself included. 
Your working theory is that nobody wants after the world ends, they just need. Need to sleep, need to eat, need to fight. Anything to survive one more fucking day. It’s all any of you can ask for. 
So do you want him, or do you need him? 
And what about him? Joel fucking Miller, with his reinforced concrete walls and heavy heart. Was he ever capable of wanting? 
“Joel,” you reach out to touch him, beckoning him to meet you halfway. 
His eyes flick to your outstretched hand, then back to your face. He shakes his head, as if declining the offer, but you don’t retreat. You sit up and crawl across the bed to him. 
The column of his throat bobs, head rocking back as he watches you come to a stop. He almost lets you touch his cheek when you try again, but snatches your hand away before you can make contact. 
“Don’t,” he warns, the tone of his hushed voice deadly serious. 
He squeezes your fingers while you study his stonewalled expression, tilting your head at him, “Why did you ask me that earlier? If I’m still seeing Bert?”
“I was curious.” 
“Curious why?” 
His lips part, then close, gaze dropping to your mouth. 
Heat pulses through every inch of your body. You drop your voice to a breathy whisper. 
“Were you thinking about what you did to me?” 
Something flickers behind his eyes when they snap onto yours. It draws you in, urging you to scoot so close your knees butt-up against his jackknifed leg. 
“You fucking loved it, didn’t you?” you ask quietly, smirking a little when his stern face twitches, “You loved how it felt to make me surrender—” 
The dull throb of his tightening grip around your hand makes you gasp. A rumble slips from his chest, which could be read as a warning if you had an ounce of self-control left. If you didn’t need him to combust. 
You let your gaze drift from his burning gaze down the slope of his nose to his lips, “Do you think about it every time you see me, like I do with you? How fucking good it felt?” 
“It was wrong—” 
“Then why are you here?”
Your question comes out louder than you expected. It ricochets through the charged space between his body and yours, popping the bubble of awareness around you. 
All the little sounds you picked up on earlier seep back into the foreground. FEDRA patrolling. The whiz-pop of firecrackers going off maybe a block away. A faint murmur of conversation in the upstairs unit. 
He holds your stare, but doesn’t make a sound until a snore rips from your mom’s chest, signaling crisis averted. When he speaks, his words come out hushed and calm. 
“You need to be quiet. Understand?” 
The command liquifies your bones. 
You lick your lips and nod, “I understand.” 
“Good.” He studies you as if deep in thought, finally releasing your hand to pinch your chin and assert, “You know why I’m here. Stop pretendin’ you don’t.” 
It’s hard not to fall in line when he’s looking down at you like this, all hot-blooded and self-assured. Cocky, almost. But you try to push his buttons anyway. 
“I thought it was wrong.”  
“Don’t get cute with me. Yes or no?” 
Your pulse flutters. Tongue goes numb. All you can do is nod. 
He jostles your head a little, “Say it.” 
“Yes.” 
“Say yes please.” 
“Yes please.” 
He works his jaw back and forth, studying you, then tugs your shirt.
“Take this off.” 
While you pull the offending garment over your head and toss it aside, Joel moves further onto the mattress, leaning back against the wall. 
You follow him, swallowing the static buzzing in your throat as he ushers you onto his lap. The scrape of his rough hands on your waist may as well be a live wire crackling across your skin. He pulls you closer and closer until your belly presses into the worn cotton of his shirt. The heat between your legs settles on his stiff length. When he twitches against you, a heady electric current courses through your body and coaxes a whimper from your lips. 
It seems too intimate to look at him, so you cast your gaze downward. Your shaky hands lay flat against his chest, absorbing the rhythmic thud of his heartbeat beneath your palm. 
Being with him like this feels strange. Not strange how it sometimes is with a new partner, that clumsiness before you know how your bodies work together. 
It’s strange in a fucked up out-of-context sort of way. Of course, growing up around him never conditioned you to think of him like this. Joel fucking Miller, with his scarred-up knuckles and unending apathy. The only man who could make big brown eyes like that seem cold. 
All those years, you never considered him anything more than an obstacle. 
Even then, if there was some tiny shimmer of attraction lingering under your skin, a piece of you that wanted more from him, you never thought he could feel so solid and soft and alive. You never dreamed he could make you feel so fucking good.
“This stays between us,” he tells you, more of a command than a request. 
“I won’t tell if you don’t.” 
The tips of his fingers dig into your hips, and he purrs, “You’ve been good for me, haven’t you?”
You preen at the warm timbre of his voice, body arching into him as you breathe, “Yes.”
Under your touch, his muscles tense. He exhales hot against your cheek and guides your hips in a rocking motion, slow and steady, rubbing all those aching nerves hard against him. 
“You liked it, too. Didn’t you? How I fucked you last time?” 
A low-frequency hum throbs deep inside you, amplifying every sensation tenfold. You nod, rolling your hips faster, “I did, I liked it.”
“Yeah, you liked it? Or did you fucking love it?” he hisses, “Dirty little slut like you. Bet you loved getting fucked in the ass, didn’t you?”
“Oh my god, Joel—” 
“Tell me.”
“Yes yes yes I fucking loved it—” 
Too loud. 
He ceases all movement, locking you in place with a steel grip. All ten of his digits bury themselves in your skin. The exquisite pain makes you gasp. 
“Hush.”
You clamp down on your lips in an attempt to stifle yourself. Each heaving breath wiggles down to your core and back. 
“Look at me.” 
If you do, you’ll dissolve at the edges. You know it. You are sugar paper and he is a humid room and you are so incredibly fucked. 
Pinching your eyes shut harder, you shake your head and whisper, “I can’t.”
“Why not?” 
“I’ll come if I do.” 
The confession makes him throb underneath you. He husks, “Do it, look at me.” 
You do. 
Even in the shadows you can make out his features, his parted lips and hooded gaze. The desire etched into his face as he stares at you, looking mystified in a way you’ve never seen before. Heat percolates beneath your skin, sending your heartbeat racing. 
His hips arch into you just so, then he pulls you in and pushes you back, rubbing your body against his, “Do you wanna come? Come for me just like this?” 
“Please—please,” you whine, feeling pleasure branch out from your middle as he slides you back and forth, “Please I wanna come for you it’s been so long—” 
“Will you be quiet?” 
Swallowing a moan, you nod frantically. 
His eyes flicker around your face and he breathes, “Go ahead.”
You’re not sure if it’s the flames in his eyes or the fact that you haven’t had an orgasm in almost two months, but the second he gives you permission, the ecstasy you tried so hard to contain spills over the edges and floods your body. It pulses through you hot and hard and makes your mind go white. You have to clasp your hand over your mouth to muffle the guttural noises that try to escape. 
“That’s it,” he coos from far away, still grinding your twitching body against him, “There we go. That’s my good girl, hmm?” 
“Oh my god—” you whimper at the sharp aftershocks that shoot through you, “It feels so good, Joel, fuck—” 
“Do you wanna come again?” 
Nodding, you link your hands behind his neck and set yourself in motion, rubbing against him a little faster than his set rhythm. His eyelids flutter as he throws his head back, the muscles under his shirt going taught. Beneath the thin fabric of his boxers, he’s hard as a fucking rock. 
Releasing the tight grasp on your hips, he roams up your sensitive skin to your breasts and tests their weight before squeezing. It shoots through you, the pleasure and pain indistinguishable, just a throbbing rush of need. Your breathing comes in heaving gasps and you pinch your eyes shut again, tilting your head towards the ceiling as you once again find yourself struggling to keep quiet. 
“Eyes on me,” he reminds you. 
You snap them open and meet his. 
“Good girl.” 
And—god, the way he looks at you, his gaze hungry and wild. Fucking maddening. Simultaneously, you wish he would stop—the contact too intense, too intimate—and pray that it never fucking ends. 
Heat bubbles up inside you. You bury your fists in his hair and roll your hips faster, chasing the scorching need for more. 
He hisses and pushes back against your thrusts, murmuring, “That’s it, grind that pussy on me, make yourself feel good.” 
“Fuck—fuck yes, it feels so fucking good—” 
“I can feel how fucking wet you are, leakin’ all over me. You do love it, don’t you, baby?”
You start to tremble and nod, trying your hardest to whisper when you tell him, “Yes yes yes I do I fucking love it—I wanna come again, can I please come again, please please—” 
“Listen to you. So good, askin’ for permission.” He brings a hand to your face and brushes his knuckles against your cheek, “Such a quick learner.” 
“Joel—” 
“Do it. Make yourself come again.”
Something untethers inside you. Heartbeat pounding behind your ears, you work your body against him in jerky movements, each one more delicious than the last. His eyes burn into yours, all heavy-lidded and lust-blown in the darkness, watching your face twist up with pleasure as the hot gooey feeling between your legs stretches wider and wider, then overtakes you completely. 
You give in to it with a shattered breath, burying your face against his shoulder to muffle your moans. He holds you down, making sure you smother your cries in the damp cotton of his t-shirt as wave after electric wave washes over you. 
When your spasms start to peter out, and your rolling hips come to a stop, he releases his stronghold to pet your hair. Your heaving chests meld together, breath syncing up into a steady ebb and flow as he smooths his palm up and down your spine. 
For a moment, it’s just this. Just the soothing motion of him rubbing your back, calming your boneless body. Soft and quiet with everything else stripped away. 
Emotion swells in your chest and tingles up your throat, behind your eyes. You try to hide it, the fact that you’re crying, but it becomes obvious when a sob escapes you. 
Joel shifts a little, then tilts your chin up to meet his eyes. He searches your face and frowns, furrowing his brow. 
“I’m sorry,” you wipe your tears and cast your eyes downward, “I—I don’t know why this is happening, I’m sorry. I’m stupid.” 
“No—hey, no,” he assures you, “It’s fine.” 
You shake your head. 
“Look at me,” he commands, and when you do, he cups your cheek and holds your gaze, “It-it’s normal to feel… emotional. Really, it’s ok.” 
The warmth and sincerity of this—his touch, his eyes, his words—makes your heart stutter. It curls up inside you and sedates your jumpy nerves. 
You sniffle and nod, “Ok.” 
His adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he studies you, bringing his hands to your waist. The longer you stare at each other, the more all the subtle signs of his lust come back into focus. How his tongue peaks out to wet his lips when he looks at your mouth. The heavy thudding of his heart. His strained breath and throbbing cock. 
Your gaze drifts to his lips. A needy, aching desire simmers at the base of your spine. It seems wrong to kiss him. More sensual than sexual, rooted in something he will never have for you. But still, you wonder. 
You wonder how soft his plush lips would feel against yours. How he would taste. Whether or not he would use tongue, or teeth, or both. 
Your fingertips twitch hesitantly towards his mouth. He doesn’t pull away or admonish you, even though you give him ample time to protest. When you make contact, smoothing your touch over the pillow of his bottom lip, he murmurs against your fingers, “I’m not your boyfriend. I’m never gonna be, either, I wanna make that clear. That’s not what this is.”  
“I know you’re not my fucking boyfriend, Joel.” You scoff at the thought, “Boyfriend. I don’t want that. I don’t need a boyfriend. What I need…” you watch your touch drift from his mouth to his jawline, where you scrape your nails through his scruff, “What I need is someone to fuck the thoughts out of my head.” 
“Fuck the thoughts outta your head,” he repeats, almost a chuckle, “That’s what you need, huh?”
“That’s what you need, too. Isn’t it?” 
Something smolders behind his gaze as he searches your face. 
“You can use me, you know. Take whatever you need from me. Use me like a fuck toy, Joel, I fucking need it.” 
His whole body reacts to your request, muscles flexing taught as he clenches his jaw.
You bat your lashes at him and pull yourself close enough to feel his breath on yours when you ask, “Don’t you need a little fuck toy like me, daddy?” 
“You’re a sick girl, you know that?” 
“You like it.” 
Neither of you can deny the other’s accusation, resulting in a stand-off that tingles beneath your skin and makes your heart pound in your throat. 
Subconsciously, you rock your hips forward and suck in breath when his cock throbs against your clit. He pushes back, flooding your veins with fire, “Are you gonna keep quiet if I fuck you?” 
“Are you gonna shut me up if I can’t?” 
He lets out one single amused chuckle, then asks, “Are you really tryna test me right now?” 
Suppressing a smile, you shake your head. 
“That’s what I thought.” 
Something in the way he says it blooms heat in your chest. His tone teasing, almost playful. 
He gives your ass a light smack, then tugs at your underwear, “Take these off.” 
You roll off him onto the mattress and slide them down your legs while he stands to strip naked. Seeing his cock makes your body hum. It stands at attention, bobbing a little when Joel catches you staring. 
Sidling up to the bed, he beckons you closer, so you follow his silent guidance and crawl over to him, wrapping your hand around his thick length. You glance up at him, licking your lips as you await further instructions. 
“Get it nice ‘n’ wet for me.”
Nodding, you bring your mouth to the head of his cock, exploring first with your tongue, licking up the salty dribbles of lust. You taste a hint of yourself on him too, arousal that soaked through his boxers and marked him yours. Temporarily, at least. At least for tonight, or at least for right now. 
A pleased rumble erupts from his chest when you wrap your lips around him and start to slide up and down his shaft. He feels solid and warm and fills your mouth completely. The first time he hits the back of your throat, you gag and pull off him, working him with your hands as you catch your breath. 
“Do it again.” 
You take him in your mouth, rutting up and down a few times before sitting up taller to drive him down your throat. He buries his fists in your hair and thrusts his hips forward, “There we go, that’s it—fuck, you’re so fucking good at that.” 
His praise sparks at your core. You whine around his cock and bob against his thrusts. It doesn’t matter that you can’t breathe. You don’t need oxygen, you just need this. The sting of his grip prodding your movements, the raw stretch of him fucking your airway, the wet squelch that fills the room. 
When he yanks your head back and unclogs your throat, you gasp for breath and stroke him with both hands, churning his slick length. Fire roars in his eyes when you look up at him. 
He grabs your chin and husks, “Say thank you.” 
“Thank you.”
He smacks your cheek and grabs your chin again, “Say thank you for fucking my face.” 
“Thank you for fucking my face, I fucking love it—”
“Say please can I have some more.” 
“Please can I have some more, daddy?” 
Stifling a groan, he crams it back in your drooling mouth, down your throat, snapping his hips in sharp, quick thrusts that make you gurgle with pleasure around him. Far away, you hear him panting, “Take it take it take it—”
The chorus makes your body tingle. You think about your mom sleeping in the other room, how there’s just a wall between her and this. How she could wake up at any moment and follow the muffled, hedonistic noises. How she would find Joel balls deep in your mouth and you giving him something she never could: control. 
This time when he pulls you off his cock, he uses his white-knuckle grip on your hair to make you flip over and turn around, ass in the air towards him. 
The head of him nudges up against the tight ring of your asshole. You hear a wet splat, then feel the heat of his spit trickling down between your cheeks. Your body clenches with anticipation as he smears it around. 
“Remember, you gotta relax,” he murmurs, releasing your hair to smooth a palm against your spine. 
You inhale a deep breath and exhale the tension from your muscles, letting your heart melt into the mattress. 
“Good girl,” he arches forward, breaching your entrance. 
The sharp sensation splits you open. It pulls a wanton moan from your lips that rings through the silent apartment like a siren. 
Yanking you up by your hair, Joel secures your back to his humid chest and clasps a hand over your mouth. Stars invade your field of vision as he drives his cock deeper and deeper, only stopping when he can’t go any further. You sob against his palm, so he pulls it down harder, muffling the noise until you stop. 
Everything goes silent and still, but you can’t even bring yourself to worry that you woke her. Not when all you can hear is your thudding heart and his ragged breath, coarse with what you assume is rage or lust or both. Not with his lightning rod cock vibrating hot up your middle. 
It doesn’t matter that she could walk in to find her common-law husband fucking your ass, or that this discovery would burn all your lives to the ground. All you care about is more. More stimulation, more attention, more Joel—more more more—
You try to move your hips in an attempt to create friction, but his vice grip renders you immobile. So you stay in place and try not to make noise as the flames lick at your insides. You squirm and ache and claw at his arms while he muffles your whimpers. 
Then your mom snores in the other room. 
He pulls his hand from your mouth and you gasp for air. 
Thinking you can get ahead of the inevitable scolding, you plead, “I’m sorry—” 
He drags his cock out of your body, then plunges it back inside, all the while hissing, “If you’re gonna be my little fuck toy—” 
“Holy fuck—”
“—You have to be fucking quiet. Do you understand?” 
Nodding, you gasp, “I understand, I’ll do better, I promise—please just fuck me, please please—”
You strangle a moan in your throat when he slips a hand between your legs and draws tedious circles on your clit. 
“Try ‘n’ breathe through it,” he coaches, “I’ll go slow for you this time, ok? Just remember, shut the fuck up and take deep breaths.” 
You suck in air until your chest is full, then release it, restricting its flow through a narrow space between your lips. You do it again. Tension begins to melt from your bones. It has a clarifying effect, allowing you to relish in the heat of his touch. You take another deep breath, only hitting a snag when Joel starts to rock his hips. 
It feels fucking unreal. Rough and raw, the steady drag of his cock fills you with static electricity over and over. 
“Oh fuck—”
“Shhh…”
Your inhale stutters, but you regain control on the exhale. Everything disappears except him. His heated skin sticking to yours. How fucking full he makes you feel with each thrust. The thick swell of pleasure that accumulates every time he flicks his wrist. You surrender to all of it, to Joel, entrusting him with everything except your breath. 
“That’s it, baby, let go.” 
“It feels ssso gooood,” you whisper, head rolling back onto his shoulder, “Nothing’s ever felt this good, holy shit—”
His lips tickle your ear as he purrs, “Such a good little fuck toy, aren’t you, baby?”
You gasp a little when the velvet of his tongue rolls against your pulse. Nodding, you reach back behind his neck to scrape your fingernails through his curls. He does it again, this time sealing his lips to suck on the sensitive skin. Your heart pounds thick and hot through your body. The edges peel back at the corner of your mind. You push back against his thrusts, panting out subdued whimpers as the fire in your belly begins to spread. 
“Do you wanna come?”
“I do, I wanna come—oh my god I wanna come, please make me come, daddy—”
His hand covers your mouth and holds you down so he can fuck you harder, stretching you out wide and filling you deep. He works your clit faster. The bed frame thumps against the wall in a frantic rhythm that matches the wet slap of his thrusts. Tears prick your eyes and heat swells beneath your skin, pressure building more and more until you think you can’t fucking take it anymore—
His palm smothers your moans as you fall apart, breaking into a million pieces and coming back together again with a choked sob. Joel buries his face in the crook of your neck and groans as his hips snap forward, then stutter to a stop. 
The two of you go slack propping each other up, too loose-limbed and lethargic to peel yourselves away at first. He makes the first move to separate, though, uncovering your mouth to brush the damp hair from your forehead, “You ok?” 
“Yeah,” you tell him instinctively, then second-guess yourself and look up to meet his eyes, “I mean, I don’t know. I think so.” 
He studies you, nodding. 
Hesitation buzzes in your chest when you contemplate whether or not to return his question. It seems unlikely he’d cooperate even if you wanted to know the answer.  So instead, you give him his out. 
“Is this goodnight, then?” 
“Suppose it is.” 
A flicker of something passes between your bodies as you stare at each other. It feels so hot to the touch that you chicken out, glancing away as you whisper, “Will you do something for me before you go?” 
“Hmm?” 
“Tuck me in?” 
The noise that comes out of him is half-grunt, half-chuckle. Joel for, ‘You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.’ But he obliges, pulling his soft cock from your body at a mercifully slow speed before allowing you to make yourself comfortable. He sorts out your blanket and drapes it over your body, then starts fishing his clothes off the floor. 
Tugging his shirt over his head, he asks, “Need anything else, princess?” 
You’re sure it’s a dig, but choose to ignore it as you snuggle into the covers and hint, “Don’t make me wait so long next time.” 
He sits down at the edge of your mattress and threads his legs through the boxers, “I’ll make you wait as long as you need to. What else?”
“Mmm. Goodnight kiss?”
“Goodnight kiss,” he scoffs to himself, then looks back over his shoulder at you, “Fine, then I’m goin’ to bed.” 
He turns to face you more directly, folding a knee onto the bed as he leans in and tilts your head to the side, pressing a gentle kiss into your cheek. Even though you wish he had kissed your lips, you close your eyes and savor the affection while you can. 
After murmuring goodnight, Joel leaves. He crawls back into bed with your mother while you memorize the sound of his retreating footsteps.
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feirceangel · 7 months
Text
Imagine | Protect (Luffy)
Imagine guarding Luffy’s hat.
Warnings: hurt/comfort
Word Count: 1,224
(Not my gif)
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There is something you are one hundred percent certain of. In a life plagued with precariousness and anxiety, there is one truth you can always cling to.
And that is the fact that your captain, Monkey D. Luffy, always has your back.
No matter what situation you find yourself in, he never fails to brighten your day with a smile and defeat whatever foe you're facing.
Whether you're homesick, bored, or literally having your life threatened, he's always right by your side.
He guards each of his crew with a vigour that only he can. His warm smile brighter than a thousand suns as he celebrates yet another victory.
There is another thing you're certain of.
That your captain has one treasure more precious than any of his other objects.
His straw hat.
Given to him by the infamous Red-Haired Shanks, Luffy values that hat above all else.
Even at the cost of his own safety.
There's been countless times where you've watched in horror as Luffy was struck but managed to keep one hand firmly atop his hat.
It never got easier seeing him battle men quadruple his size and strength. Your stomach would clench with worry and you'd do your best to help battle the other opponents, but you always felt so helpless.
Watching him take on such intense foes made you feel proud of him and also concerned for his well being.
Although now that you've been sailing as a Straw Hat Crew member for months, you've come to realize that your captain can take on anything.
His hat, less so.
So, here you sit, quietly mending his hat as Luffy gapes at your handiwork.
"Awesome!" He grins, face alight with joy, "You're good at this, Y/n!"
"I'm just glad you're okay," you confess, carefully stitching away.
It's no secret how you feel about Luffy: everyone on the crew knows about your crush. And you have confidence that Luffy feels the same way.
It's in the little things he does. Always finding an excuse to hug you, explore new islands with you, and even share his food with you. And he never shares his food with anyone else.
So, it's safe to say he at least likes you.
He laughs, "You need to stop worrying so much!"
"You need to stop getting beat up!" You fire back, finishing your stitch. "Seriously, I'm starting to think you like pain."
He laughs, "I don't! But I got him in the end, Y/n! That's all that matters."
You sigh and motion for him to bow his head. He does and you gently set his hat back in its rightful place.
He grins up at you, "Thanks, Y/n! Let's go see if Sanji's done making supper!"
Luffy snatches your hand in his as soon as you drop your needle into your sewing kit. He drags you into the kitchen, using his devil fruit power to snatch up an apple.
"Sanji," he mumbles around a mouthful of fruit, "When's food gonna be ready? I'm hungry."
"Not yet," the cook shakes his head. "I need thirty more minutes."
Luffy groans loudly, leaning his head on your shoulder, "That's too long!"
"You have to wait!"
Luffy scrunches his nose in annoyance before dragging you outside again. Once there, he shoves the apple near your mouth, "Have a bite!"
You're surprised he hasn't eaten it all already. Opening your mouth, you take a large bite of the tangy goodness, humming your approval.
"Thanks," you start to mumble but he stops you mid sentence by leaning in and pressing his lips to yours.
A furious heat flushes your face at his abrupt actions.
"W-what was that for?"
He grins and swipes his tongue over his mouth, "You had juice on your lips."
You're floored, unable to respond as the kiss replays in your head. Meanwhile, he's already walking away with a giddy giggle.
~
You watch with bated breath as Luffy's hat goes flying.
He's fighting a particularly strong foe, having to use all his focus on the battle.
Without a second thought, you race after his treasure, determined to keep it safe for him. He's always doing so much for you, so you want to return the favour.
The other Straw Hats are occupied, no one noticing as you slip away to chase after the stray hat. A strong wind has blown it quite the distance, and you find it stuck on a tree branch.
You grab it, turning on your heel to trudge back to the main fight. But there's a problem.
A large group of marines stand in front of you, each one wearing a menacing grin.
"Look who we have here," the supposed leader comments, stepping forwards.
You instinctively hide Luffy's hat behind your back, grinning back ferociously.
"Gentlemen, what are you doing so far from the real fight?"
"Could ask you the same," he sneers. "What's that behind your back? Is it the infamous Straw Hat Luffy's straw hat?"
Your grip on the straw tightens.
"You're in charge of safeguarding it huh? Is that all you're good for?"
They laugh amongst themselves.
"I wonder if they'd kick you out if you failed the one task they gave you," he steps forward again.
"Over my dead body," you hiss, taking out your weapon after securing the hat to your belt. "If this hat is destroyed, then I have no reason to go on."
Before they can make the first move, you've taken down two of them, angered at their words and fuelled with the desire to protect Luffy's treasure.
The fight goes on too long.
Outnumbered, you take hits that knock you down and leave you bloodied and bruised. Maybe even with a few broken bones.
By now, you're on the ground, clutching the hat in your bloodied hands as a torrent of kicks fall on your back.
You took down well over half the marines but the few remaining are mad as hell and taking it out on you.
You barely register the outraged cry of your captain as he shouts, "Gum-Gum Gatling!"
The kicks stop as your attackers go flying, landing with dull thuds. They don’t get back up again.
Luffy is quick to rush to your side, “Y/n! Are you alright?!”
“Luffy,” you manage a small smile, shakily handing him his hat. “I protected your treasure.”
He doesn’t smile, in fact he looks angry.
“Idiot! You’re my treasure,” he shouts, gripping onto your shoulders, “And now you’re hurt!”
Confused, you stare up into his eyes, “But you love this hat.”
“But I love you more,” he shakes you again before screaming for Chopper to come and assess the damage done to you.
After you’re back on the ship, nicely bandaged and safe in bed, Luffy approaches you again. He seems less energetic than normal, dragging his feet as he comes to the bed.
“Thank you for protecting my hat. I’m sorry I didn’t protect you.”
“Luffy,” you gently clasp his hand, “You’ve always protected me.”
His eyes are wet with tears, “But-“
“I couldn’t ask for a better captain,” you reiterate, pulling him closer. “You’re all I could hope for.”
“Really?”
“Honest,” you smile, “Now come here.”
You drag him into your arms, wincing slightly. He is cautious of your injuries, gently returning your hug.
“Thank you.”
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absurduty · 2 months
Text
SAINTLIKE | AEMOND TARGARYEN X READER
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a b r i d g e m e n t : when you, now a Lannister, return to King’s Landing, Aemond ensures you won’t leave.
TW: smut, groping, mentions of anal, penetration, oral (fem receiving), degradation mixed with praise???, creampie, breeding, slight cum eating
CREDITS FOR THE AEMOND PICTURE TO ultravi0l3t on Pinterest!
TAGLIST: @toodlesxcuddles , @imsoshygirl
“Gods, Helaena,” you sigh softly, spraying your perfume on your dress. your slender fingers continue to spray it on your neck, behind your ears and the inside of your wrists. “It feels strangely comforting to get away from all that gold up in Casterly Rock.”
“I’ve missed you, sister.” she said in response, sitting on your bed with her eyes focused on her sewing. "But Aemond missed you more.”
“I'm sure he did,” you say softly, biting your cheek to prevent a smile from spreading. your eyes flickered to the bed Helaena was sitting on. the chambers Aemond had snuck a thousand times in to get some comfort to sleep. “Do you have any-"
“The dragon eats the lion,” your little sister suddenly interrupted you, looking up from her sewings. “The lion is blinded by pride, but the dragon is blinded by rage.”
you dropped the perfume on the floor, dumbfounded by Helaena's interruption.
“Come again?” you asked softly, careful as to not undermine her. you knew better than to undermine her sayings after the time she proclaimed Aemond had to close an eye. “What are you talking about, sweet sister?”
she only hummed, and sprayed some perfume to the back of your knees as you lifted up your dress.
"I will see you at supper, sister." she dismissed your question with a gentle tone, standing up.
you bid her goodbye, your confusion present to what it meant. However, you shook it off. Your boys were with the Septa, Aemond was practicing his swordsmanship, Aegon was doing god knows what...
you readied your hair again, making certain the curls at the bottom were luscious enough. you then headed out to the halls, your flat flootwear tapping against the ground with each step you take.
“Aunt y/n!” you heard a masculine voice call out, causing you to turn your head at the voice. you recognised the two brown-haired princes instantly.
“Nephews,” you smile warmly, embracing Lucerys first. you rubbed his back and asked him how he was doing, to which he delightfully replied that he’s officially betrothed to Rhaena.
you rise up again and turn to the eldest, Jacaerys. you could have sworn you saw him blush, but you knew better than to act as if you know the truth. you engulfed him into a hug, your scent rubbing off on him. “How have you been?”
he blinked twice, his mouth slightly parted at seeing you again. “Good, auntie.” he said softly, attempting to stand tall and noble.
“Good.” you nodded respectfully, trying to brush them off politely. “If you’ll excuse me, I have some urgent business with your mother.”
they both nodded, and scurried off to the courtyard, you knew that if you mentioned you’d be visiting your dear brother’s chamber, all you’d hear are subtle sighs of annoyance and whines disguised as uncertainty.
you treated down the grand halls again, finally reaching his chambers. there were no guards, strangely enough, and you took the liberty of opening the door, entering, and shutting it behind you.
“Sister.” his voice startles you, causing you to turn around. “What brings you here?”
“Aemond,” you smiled, trying not to let your eyes flicker to his tunic less form, stepping a few steps closer to look him up in the eyes. “You are attending supper, are you not?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked gravelly, his hands sliding down to the small of your back. you tried to avoid it, but you felt a small sense of arousal affecting your thoughts. “After all, nothing more than a supper with… family.”
“Aemond,” you whisper, as if he had just said a sentence condemning the gods. “No matter how you think about it they are still Rhaenyra’s. Half Targaryen.”
“Is that what she told you after you confronted her?” he asked huskily, his hands sliding down to your hips. “That her fucking a strong was just, and that they’re still half-fucking-Valyrian?”
“Aemond, stop,” you say in a hushed tone, feeling his other hand run across your stomach area, covered by the dress, unable to feel your full breasts due to the material of your dress. “We shouldn’t. My lord husband-”
he broke off your sentence by pressing his lips upon yours, his tall figure looking over you as if it was a shadow, your face in his hands as if it were a precious gem needing to be cradled.
“Your craven of a husband is out fucking whores, not seeing the absolute fucking beauty he has in front of him,” he murmured between kisses, his slender hands working to unbutton your dress. “But it’s fine, I suppose. You were meant to be mine anyways. Meant to be carrying my children.”
you tried not to kiss back, you really did, but his hand crept up the second your dress was dropped, and kneaded your breasts. then he took advantage of your little gasp as to slip his tongue inside. you let out soft moans, your hand flying to his hair.
“Perfect, rōva mandia,” he coos, his hand once again switching positions to rub at your asscheeks and hips. “After 4 sons, you've remained sensitive. That cunt of a Lannister must have not pleased you enough, has he?”
the only thing you could do was shake your head, placing little kisses on his neck and face which in all honesty, were adorable to him. your eyes looked at him so purely, yet he couldn’t see you as anything other than a vixen born to seduce him.
“Be a dear and show your little brother what he has missed,” he whispered in your ear, and you obliged rather quickly, crawling onto the bed, your tight little back-hole showing for him.
“Hm,” was all he said as he took his time stepping, coming to rub one of your ass cheeks as he took a look at your tight asshole. “We'll have countless nights to do that.”
you were about to open your mouth, before he tenderly turned your body over, leaning in to lick the corners of your lips, purposely drooling some of his saliva into your mouth.
“The gods have made us be together, for they know how we belong.” he murmured in between planting kisses on your jaw and throat. “You belong in black and red. I’ll give you the gold anytime you desire it.”
you grow even wetter at his words, pushing your hips up to rub yourself against his already rock-hard cock prominent through his breeches. the feeling did not last long, as one of his hands moved from gripping the sheet next to your head, to pinning your hips down.
“Oh, do you desire me now, rōva mandia?” he whispered, brushing your nose against his. “I’ve grown, sister. I am a man now. A man worthy of you.”
his lips kissed the top of your breasts, before latching onto your nipple, swirling his tongue around it while he kneaded and pinched the other with his hand.
“Ae-aemond,” you whine, your eyes trained on his bulge. you looked up at him and you couldn’t look more possibly beautiful than now. “Fuck me, please.”
“Patience, sister,” he rubbed your stomach, his other kneading your tits. you whined but quickly stopped once he brushed some hair out of your face. “You’ll be given my cock, but beforehand I'll have to taste your sweet essence I’ve been thinking about for years.”
“Aemond, I need it,” you begged him, rubbing your foot all over his crotch to rile him up. “I need you.”
he only let out a satisfied hum, kissing each toe and trailing up to your calves, knees, thighs up until his big hands spread them apart.
you remained too aroused to properly function, letting out a deep breath when his tongue only took one lick of your folds. what followed after was his thumb rubbing your sensitive pussy, having you let out fast breaths.
“Are you not used to having anything other than your husband’s cock touching your cunny?” he asked mockingly, placing a kiss on your wet folds. “Of course not, my sweet sister deserves to get fucked like a whore, and treated like a princess.”
you let out a whine at his words, practically thrusting your hips into his face. he licked at your folds and used the muscles of his tongue to fuck into you pleasurably. he let out a few grunts himself as if he was tasting the sweetest essence ever known. his hand rubbed up and down your thigh as you wrapped them around his head.
he continued tongue-fucking you, occasionally stopping to suck on your sensitive bud, his big hand continued to caress and massage your thighs, slurping up your sweet taste. you let out the most melodious moans he has ever known.
“Valonqar,” you moaned out, thrusting your hips against his face. he sucked and swirled his tongue against your clit. your muscles clench around him tighter and tighter, feeling something build up in your stomach. your body tensed up as his tongue gave his final thrusts.
“Come for me, rōva mandia, come hard for your brother,” he murmured, his tongue making his final trust on your stimulated clit. “Scream my name.”
you finally bursted, your orgasm washing over your. half of the juice shot down Aemond's throat and the other half drooled down his chin. he eagerly slurped up your juices, before rubbing his cum-covered chin against your breasts, rubbing the cum off on your breasts.
“My sister, my love,” he coos, kissing the shell of your ear. “The best woman to give my cock to.”
he got rid of his breeches and pulled out his hardened member, throbbing with pre-cum. he let out a soft hiss as it rubbed against your entrance, teasing you endlessly.
“We should stop,” you say softly. “Anyone could come i- ah!”
you let out a gasp as he began to began to circle your sensitive button with the tip of his erection. his hands were placed on your waist, pinning you down.
“Let them,” he murmured close to your lips, his unoccupied hand coming up to trace his thumb over your bottom lip. “Let them see how a dragon has claimed another dragon. As it should be.”
you moan loudly, feeling him push his fat head into your throbbing pussy. his cock was much better than your lord husband’s, thrusting slowly into your tight heat. his face cane close again to plant suck and kiss on your jawline, holding your face to the side.
“My sister is too beautiful,” he murmured in between occasional quiet grunts, feeling you deeper with each trust. “The only cunt that’s perfect for me.”
he could feel you tightening around him, your sweet eyes looking up at him. his one eye met yours, locking eyes intensely. your gasps and moans, accompanied by clapping sounds lingered around the room. his hand creeped down to knead your breasts, brushing a thumb over your hard nipple. his hips went upwards to thrust deeper. he could hear those telltale cries of ecstasy, and basked in it.
“You wish for me to put a babe inside of you?” he asks mockingly, rubbing your cheek against his hand. “Of course you do. You’re mine, and once that husband of yours knows his place, we will be wed.”
you clenched around him, juices already wetting his cock inside of you. your eyes roll to the back of your head as his hand rubbed your clit. you looked up at him once again, and he looked majestic and vulgarly gorgeous. his hair sticking to his forehead, not as straight anymore now that it’s wet. you were a sight for sore eyes to him as well, your dark hair messy and disheveled, your cheeks red and your neck scattered in hickeys.
after a few moments, you came undone, spilling against his cock. not soon after, he slowed his thrust and shot his load inside of you, a part of him forever embedded within your womb.
“Too beautiful,” he murmured, planting kisses all over your breasts and collarbone. “You have been mine since we were children. You were meant to be my betrothed. Tis I who has always loved you.”
you only smiled, but even that made his heart flutter and his cock twitch. he slowly engulfed you into a kiss, slipping his cock outside of you.
“My children have taken a liking to you,” you smile, rubbing your nose against his. “I’d love for you to stay by our side.”
“Which I will do,” he replied, his big hand rubbing your stomach. “After all, they ought to meet one of their own.”
you were about to attempt to stand up on shaky legs, but his veined hands cupped your face and slowly pinned you back down.
“Do not clean yourself up, rōva mandia,” his melodic voice ringed. “Let us depart to supper with my seed, deep inside of you. The bastard might realise how little chance he makes with you.”
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scarletttries · 2 months
Text
When The Straw Hats Fall In Love... (One Piece Request)
Pairings: Luffy x Reader, Zoro x Reader, Sanji x Reader, Nami x Reader, Usopp x Reader
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Monkey D. Luffy
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- When Monkey falls in love he's not even sure he can put his finger quite on what's happening to him. All he knows is that he likes it. A lot.
- Luffy gets excited when any new pirate joins his crew, his constant ability to see the best in people never ceasing to amaze the rest, but when you first set foot aboard the Merry it's better than he could have ever imagined.
- When you're around he feels a new level of confidence, like he's two steps closer to achieving his dream and everything is working out for him just how it's supposed to be. He wakes up every morning and practically bounces out of bed at the thought of seeing your smile and sharing his thoughts from the night before with you.
- He loves all his friends, but with you he feels a thousand feet tall, stomach bubbling up in excitement, no matter how much he's eaten. He's always bothering Nami at her desk trying to find cute islands to stop off at along the way, just in case that would make you smile and his life would feel complete once again.
- It would be Nami too that first helped Monkey realise just what he's feeling. The first time he skipped a meal to keep you company on your watch she'd realise this is more than just the usual Luffy charms. She'd be surprisingly thoughtful as she sat him down and talked him through what his feelings might mean, and if he thought it was at all possible he might like you more than a friend. What she wasn't expecting was for him to cheer at the top of his lungs, drawing the attention of the whole crew as he climbs aboard the table and screams for all to hear 'I'M IN LOVE!"
- Naturally the first thing he has to do is find you. He doesn't worry about if you don't feel the same way, because honestly that wouldn't make this feeling any less sweet, and if someone loved him this way, he'd definitely want to know. You'd be pulled from whatever you were concentrating on with a quick rap of knuckles against the door frame before Luffy charged in anyway, limbs flying everywhere as his feet skid to a halt just in front of you.
"Hey (y/n)! Nami just helped me realise I'm in love with you! Isn't that great?!" It's hard not to be taken aback by this, but with his big smile beaming at you, the young man practically vibrating with excitement at just the presence of his love, your heart quickly follows suit. Before you've even finished telling him that you feel the same his arms around wrapped tightly around you, pulling you into a hug of fierce adoration that he plans to repeat at least 100 times a day.
- Prepare yourself for; Surprise hugs and kisses when you least expect them, Luffy clinging to you every night without fail, afternoons spent on the ship's figurehead while he shouts echoing compliments to the oceans, midnight feasts, island adventures passed hand in hand, being told you are one of his new dreams, and unwavering support and loyalty.
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Zoro
- Zoro knows exactly what that uncomfortable aching deep in his chest is, he just wasn't expecting to find it so distracting.
- Your voice calling his name echoes through his mind as he tries to practice his sword training, stirring enough that he finds himself glancing over his shoulder periodically just to ensure you haven't snuck up behind him, probably to check on him in that soft, selfless way you often do.
- Your face is the last thing that flashes before his eyes whenever he's in the throes of a sword fight, an extra consideration in how hard he has to fight to survive, to make sure he always makes it home safe to you. He'll never admit it but after a particularly dangerous day he'll often be found sleeping against the wall beside your cabin door. He finds he can't sleep sometimes unless he knows you're safe, and he'd never be so bold as to invite himself in.
- Your laughter always manages to bring a smile to his face, so much so that he envies Sanji's ability to make witless retorts that always manage to draw that sweet sound out of you. He asks Usopp to teach him a few jokes, but quickly leaves that lesson when he realises all these 'jokes' are just long stories of his so-called bravery.
- Zoro finds when he lays down to sleep, you are all he can dream of. The times you spoke that day, the way you looked as you shared a meal with the others, the efforts you put in to keep the crew safe and well. It floods his chest with warmth as you dance through his thoughts, spurring him to try and find even more excuses to be close to you the following day. To have a few extra moments by your side to help him drift off again.
- Zoro may think he's a stoic man of mystery, but after the first time he falls asleep leaning against your doorframe you start to get an idea of the depth of his feelings. You watch him warm to you and you alone, chasing your company every chance he can take it, and keeping a watchful eye over you whenever the situation turns dangerous. So after one of your more dangerous adventures, you listen out for the tell tale clanging of his swords as he sets up his camp outside your door, and finally you pull it open just a touch, enough for your words to escape without the swordsman having to face you.
"I always feel safer with you near Zoro, but why don't you come in so you can rest a bit more comfortably too?" You listen to the heavy pause your invitation leaves in the air until finally the door pushes slightly more open, and Zoro steps into your cabin, more bashful than you've ever seen him. As you take him gently by the hand and lead him to the untucked edge of your bed, you can feel your own heart swell with anticipation, the threshold of your door crossed and an invisible boundary broken down along with it.
- Prepare yourself for; furtive smiles thrown your way when no-one else is looking, a firm hand on yours whenever you two have to leave the ship, nights passed in peaceful quiet with Zoro's head resting on your lap, Zoro never far away when you're going about your day, grumpy grunts whenever Sanji flirts with you, and quiet confessions of the depths of his love when all is dark and still.
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Nami
- Nami is furious. She's spent so much time and work putting up walls and barriers to keep her heart safe. To keep herself undistracted. To make sure she's a lone wolf that can look after number one when she needs to. And you hopped over every wall of her fortress with a simple hello and a trusting smile.
- Nami's the type to be in denial at first. She can't get lost in your beauty if she barely makes eye contact with you. She can't hang on your every word if you two hardly talk. She can't be in love with you if she convinces herself that she can't stand you, and keeps herself busy and out of your way.
- Unfortunately for her, absence only makes the heart grow fonder, and all of her efforts to change her mind only leave her craving your company even more. When she relents and sits next to you for the next cabin meal she feels a surge of guilt at her avoidance when you offer her the widest smile and say you're so happy to see her after she's been so busy. You were worried she wasn't looking after herself so you make sure Sanji gives her the biggest bowl before Luffy can come and claim it. At that point Nami knows there's no use fighting her feelings for the one person she can trust to look after her and her heart, even if she's spent most of her life convincing herself she doesn't need that. Her hand slides slowly across the bench until her little finger brushes against yours, the brief contact enough to light a spark in you both.
"I'll be around a lot more now."
- Prepare yourself for; Late night confessions under the stars, sitting with your legs intertwined as she works on maps, Nami always taking the seat next to yours and giving a death glare if one of the boys gets there first, evenings passed in small town bars learning card games and scooting your seats ever closer to each other, arms wrapping around your waist whenever you're working on something that requires your full attention, and being the safest place for one another in a chaotic pirate life.
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Sanji
- Sanji has felt the aching touch of affection before, the ever flirty chef finding himself distracted by the beauty of many passing women, but from the minute he lays eyes on you, he knows he's never felt like this.
- He wants to flirt with you the way he's been practicing for years, but he finds whenever you smile up at him he gets short on breath and can only stare helplessly at you while you fill in the awkward silence. It takes him weeks of desperate longing before he can even hold a conversation with you, the sly smile plastered on his face more sincere than he would ever let on.
- He makes all your favourite foods, as often as he can get away with, putting in extra care and attention to the plate he plans to give to you. Every time you hum happily and praise his work, he feels weightless and euphoric, grateful for the hours spent honing his craft for the opportunity to impress you.
- It becomes a running joke amongst the crew that you're the only person Sanji won't flirt with, the behaviour all the more obvious by how red he turns whenever Zoro points it out to him, taking the chance to do an awful impression of Sanji flirting with you and coming out with lines Sanji views as completely unworthy of your ears. The truth is there's nothing he could say to make you love him with the unwavering depth that he loves you, no words that could capture the sheer wonder of your essence, the light that shines on him with every moment spent in your presence.
- You decide to take mercy on the chef one morning, waking before the rest of the crew and joining Sanji in the kitchen while he prepares to make everyone breakfast. He thinks about making a heartfelt comment about 'to what does he owe the pleasure of your company' or 'how it's unfair to visit him so early as it means his day will have already peaked' but he can't find the combination of words you deserve to hear so instead he just beams and says good morning, eyes devoted following your movements as you settle onto the kitchen counter beside where he's working.
"Sanji, why don't you flirt with me?" The question has hung in the air unspoken a dozen nights before, but today it's fired directly at him, sending his pulse racing as his mouth seems to seal shut of its own accord. He puts down the bowl he was intently stirring and approaches you instead, carefully tiptoeing the so obvious line between you.
"Well when I flirt with everyone else it's just harmless fun. It doesn't mean anything."
"And what would it mean with me?" He should have seen your follow up coming, the knowing look in your eyes spurring him to finally voice the affections that have plagued him for weeks.
"Everything." He watches open mouthed as your fingers run down the length of his tie before capturing the end, pulling him slowly towards your grinning lips and finally letting him find his confidence again.
- Prepare yourself for; breakfast in bed that quickly descends into heated kisses, being lifted onto the kitchen counter so Sanji can periodically stop by to kiss you while he cooks, cakes with soppy sentiment iced on top left outside your door throughout the day, unwavering physical affection regardless of whose around, a litany of sweet nicknames muttering directly into your ear as he nuzzles into your neck, and your lips being the sweetest thing the chef has ever tasted.
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Usopp
- Usopp is no stranger to the feelings of love, having already stilled his heart once for a love that couldn't be, he finds himself once again falling head over heels when you enter his life.
- A man of outlandish tales and dramatic exploits, the first hint that you might be someone special to him is the fact that when he's alone with you he only wants to tell the truth. No dramatics, no exageration, when he's with you Usopp just wants to tell you everything that he's ever experienced exactly as it happened. He needs you to know the truth about his life, he needs you to see the real him, he needs you to look at him for exactly who he is, so you can decide if that's an Usopp you can love.
- He often offers to make you a warm tea before bed, when the ship is quiet and he can steal a moment of privacy, so the two of you can stare out the small rounded windows in your cabins and just let your thoughts and feelings spill out like water bubbling too close to the surface. He finds himself enthralled with your reactions to his tales, the kindness you offer him when he speaks of his mother, the genuine praise to even his minor accomplishments, and the shared joy when you two recount you time with Luffy.
- When he ends your talks, when you're both struggling to keep your eyes open and threatening to drift off in each other's arms and he finally gets up the resolve to excuse himself so you can rest, he always ends them by telling you that you're the only person who knows that story. You think he's just making you feel special, that he's known for sharing these glimpses into his past, but the truth is that you ARE special and only you have ever heard this side of Usopp before.
- Usopp speaks so honestly and so freely around you that he finds himself having to hold back describing his feelings for you most nights. He hates that that's the one thing he's yet to be honest about, but he knows that with every passing night, his confession only becomes more inevitable. What he doesn't expect is you leaning across the small bench you two are curled up on and placing a soft kiss on his cheek at the end of one night, and telling him you hope he will always share his stories with you. The beaming smile on his face as he promises he'll keep telling you stories forever, leaning back in for a kiss of his own, reveals as much as his words do.
- Prepare yourself for; Usopp dancing with you at inopportune moments, you being the greatest source of his strength and bravery, hunting through markets for little matching accessories, lying on the beach together whenever an island's weather allows, never keeping any secrets, and the arms of the bravest pirate boyfriend constantly wrapping around your waist.
633 notes · View notes
helluvapoison · 2 months
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Lucifer Morningstar ABC’s (SFW)
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
♡ A. Affection ♡
How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?
What doesn’t he do?
Lucifer looks at you with pure adoration. It’s like he wakes up and falls in love with you all over again throughout the day. Gifts, compliments, the kindest words, the cutesy nicknames— He will do anything and everything to show he loves you, but he specifically thrives when you tell him what you want or need from him.
“Luci, could you—“
He’s on it, rushing to your side before you’re finished speaking.
“Yes! Absolutely, of course, anything, what is it my light requires?”
Reward him with praise and a kiss, it’s like he’s back on top of the world
♡ B. Bad Habit ♡
What bad habits do they have?
Lucifer forgets there’s an entire realm that’s under his care, that other people exist outside of whatever project he’s hyper focused on. This takes a massive toll on his relationship with Charlie and, occasionally, you. You, however, live with Lucifer so it makes the patchwork easier.
He struggles to take care of himself and his pride refuses to let anyone help. He’ll work and work and work until he passes out standing up! His stomach will be howling, his eyes drooping, his body aching everywhere but he won’t feel it.
All of that goes hand in hand with how stubborn Luci can be. He won’t cater to his needs so when you barge in to, oh, y’know, keep him alive, he feels incredibly guilty
♡ C. Comfort ♡
Are they a good shoulder to cry on or do they get awkward?
You’ll want or need for nothing with Lucifer. A shoulder is the least he can do for you if you’re upset.
The issue is when he sees your tears, he panics— inwardly. A thousand questions rush through his mind. Are you hurt? He scans for signs of injury as he steps closer. Was someone cruel to you? His demonic features threaten to flare.
You can see the turmoil unfold and dissipate all at once. You need him, so there’s only one question he needs to ask. Slowly, Lucifer reaches up to cradle your face. He wipes away your tears with his thumb
“How can I fix this?”
♡ D. Domestic ♡
Are there plans for the future? Kids, a house, a dog or three?
He has a ring in his pocket at all times, just not the balls to pop the question. Lucifer wants it all, absolutely everything, as long as it’s with you and he’s known it for a long time
♡ E. Energy ♡
Would you have trouble keeping up with them?
Lucifer’s an introvert with an energy scale thats’s broken on both ends. He prefers his down time where he can tinker alone in his office. However, he’s extremely charming and a phenomenal conversationalist. He draws power from crowds and party-like settings, most likely because people are watching in awe of him.
Still, he’d happily choose a mundane dinner with you, Charlie and Vaggie over anything
♡ F. Fear ♡
What are they scared of when it comes to you?
He managed to go on after falling… and after Lilith, but both events took its toll on him. Lucifer doesn’t think he could survive losing you. The thought alone is paralyzing
♡ G. Gentle ♡
How gentle are they?
Painfully gentle when he needs to be but occasionally Lucifer forgets himself. He’s in a constant state of touch deprivation so when he gets desperate for it, he might be a tad overzealous.
Definitely tackled you to the ground in a hug before
♡ H. Honesty ♡
Do they have secrets they hide?
It’s not a secret but he is ashamed to admit he keeps his first wedding ring. He took it off after you two began going steady for a year or so. It felt disingenuous. He would hate to have you thinking he was attempting to make you a stand in for Lilith. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of it
♡ I. I love you’s ♡
Who says it first?
It has to be you. Lucifer chokes on the words every time he feels them bubbling up in his chest. Literally, he starts coughing and excuses himself to get water. As adorable as you think it is, you bite the bullet and try to make it as natural as possible.
He was hunched over his desk, intensely focused on design plans an addition to Lu Lu World. You leaned around his chair, set down a warm mug filled with coffee, plant a kiss on his cheek aaaand,
“I’m off, Luci!” You press your lips to his forehead, “Have a nice day, I love you.”
“Aw, I love you too, sweetie!” He replied, not looking up from the papers.
Smiling to yourself, you turned and slowly began making your way to toward the door.
Three… two.. o— CRASH!
Lucifer was in front of you before you could blink with his arms and wings stretched out to stop you from taking another step. His eyes were wild and wide.
“You—You love me?” He sounded breathless.
“Of course I love you, Luci.”
He floundered between cackling and gasping for air for a good minute.
“I-I-I love you too! You know I love you, right?” He stammered out, gesturing between you both, “I love you so fucking much it’s insane!”
The day’s problems and errands are forgotten, lost amongst the hundred-thousand ‘I love you’s said.
“Say it again,” Lucifer asked dreamily, about to fall asleep in your arms that night.
“I love you, Lucifer.”
♡ J. Jealous ♡
Are they jealous? How do they handle it?
There’s an almost nonexistent line Lucifer walks between fine and incandescent demon. He forgot what jealousy felt for a good thousand years before you. Christ on a cracker, he fucking hates it!
He’ll do his very, very, very best not to blow up (metaphorically speaking… but also literally) but he slips, his rage is never aimed at you! It entirely depends on the situation, the person he’s dealing with, if he can get you back into his arms before the flames rise past his throat. Touching you again in some way is like cool relief.
Just hold his hand until you guys get home and he’ll apologize properly. Lucifer feels immensely guilty afterwards, he just can’t stand the idea of losing you
♡ K. Kiss ♡
What kind of kisser? Deep and passionate? Sloppy? Little pecks on the cheek?
Lucifer kisses you like he’ll never see you again. He wants to encase the moment in gold so it can never end, memorizing how your lips feel upon his
♡ L. Listen ♡
Do they hang off your every word or have selective hearing?
As long as you have his attention beforehand, you can rest assured he’s listened to every single word you’ve said. If you try and talk to him while he’s working, he might not realize it and you’ll have to start again
(Be patient with Lucifer. You can see he’s trying so hard to participate in conversations but through reminding himself to pay attention, he gets distracted and lost. He really is trying)
♡ M. Maintenance ♡
Are they high maintenance? Low? Do they need more skincare products than you?
“What can I say? I take pride in everything.”
You snort out a laugh, tousling his hair before leaving the bathroom.
Preens like a bird, always looking so dapper. When Lucifer has the energy to get take the necessary steps he has the works awaiting. Hair product, skincare routine, steam and press his white suit! It doesn’t always get done but he has it! You’ve helped him relearn to be ok with the bare minimum; sometimes brushing his hair and teeth, then putting on clothes is enough.
Extra: Lucifer’s idea for a date night is a spa treatment! Face masks, bubble baths, washing hair, painting nails and silk pajamas
♡ N. Newsworthy ♡
Are they shouting their love from the rooftops?
Considering he’s somewhat a celebrity figure and a recluse, his private life is very much sought after. Lucifer would love nothing more than to soar through the skies of Hell and have it echoing through every dirty alley how much he loves you, how proud he is to be with you!
But he won’t, especially not at first. Lucifer wants to keep you his secret for a while, something for himself. Charlie will be the first to know and everything can spiral from there for all he cares. Before any of that happens, though? Somehow all of Hell can tell
♡ O. Observant ♡
Do they watch you often or spare you glances?
Lucifer could watch you like a television, you’re so enchanting. He notices everything about you and stores the information for the future (as if him knowing you don’t like chives, or something, would ever be useful) Quirks, likes and dislikes, allergies— he knows it all!
Wanna quiz him? C’mon, quiz him! He’s confident he’ll get an A+
♡ P. Protection ♡
Are they overboard or level headed about protecting their loved ones?
Said with nothing but love, Lucifer is extremely overprotective. Without hesitation, he’d dive headfirst into battle, start and end wars for you or Charlie. When he says nothing will never ever ever happen to you, he fucking means it
♡ Q. Quid Pro Quo ♡
Is it 50/50? Give and get?
Yes and no
Is the relationship equal? Yes! If you give Lucifer something (be it affection, a gift, etc) does he feel undeserving and get the overwhelming need to overcompensate? Also yes!
♡ R. Reliable ♡
Can you count on them?
Undoubtedly.
♡ S. Scent ♡
Their perfume/cologne/natural musk
Lucifer has a few colognes that he wears on special occasions; ambery vanilla or vanilla bourbon. His soaps smell like crisp, red apples.
Naturally, he doesn’t smell like anything. He tells you it’s the “charcoal curse”. You wrap your arms around him and say he always smells like home, hoping that will lift his spirits
♡ T. Temper ♡
What is their temper like? Quick to anger? Long fuse? How bad do they lose it?
There’s been instances where there’s little to no build up on Lucifer’s fury but normally, he’s quite patient! Or at least very good at pretending to be unbothered. He doesn’t like losing control of any of his emotions but sometimes it’s inevitable. Scenarios as such usually, if not always, surround you and Charlie and if that happens… there’s destruction to clean up afterwards
♡ U. Unwind ♡
How do they relax?
Unfortunately for you, Lucifer doesn’t quite recall how to relax. Or when he should. Or why he should— hey, why should he?
He doesn’t realize tinkering with his ducks naturally lets off steam. Plus, sometimes he ends up more frustrated with the outcome and the relaxing process of making it was for naught
Toss him in the bath with some bubbles and his favorite ducks. Seriously. Perch outside the tub (or in it if you want!) and watch Luci melt back into the man you love. Call him your little duckling and he’s officially right as rain
♡ V. Value ♡
What’s their love language? What makes them feel special?
Acting • Gift Giving
Receiving • Words of affirmation
♡ W. Waves ♡
What will you two argue most about?
His health or his pessimism. You worry for his mental well being as much as you do his body, he needs to be able to take care of both. Lucifer’s cynical attitude is partly how he feels and partly him trying to convince himself of what he’s saying
The last time he dreamed too big didn’t end well at all but you remind him that shouldn’t stop him from having new dreams, even itty bitty ones! Not to mention his words have an effect on others as well and he forgets that
♡ X. Xylophone ♡
What’s their song?
Icarus - Bastille
Your hands protect the flames
From the wild winds around you
Icarus is flying too close to the sun
And Icarus' life, it has only just begun
It's just begun...
Standing on the cliff face, highest fall you'll ever grace
It scares me half to death
Look out to the future, but it tells you nothing
(bonus, From Eden - Hozier, no i don’t give a flying fuck if it’s on the nose)
♡ Y. Yearning ♡
How do they act when separated?
It’s incredibly hard to leave him behind. While he teases he’ll fall apart without you, Lucifer wears a brave face when it actually comes time for you to leave. His smile is tight, brows pinching upwards the farther you get. It’s torture not to reach out and steal you back, deny you from ever leaving him.
He was joking in an entirely serious way. If it wasn’t for your texts (Luci leaps for his phone with every buzz, just in case it’s you) he’d forget… just about everything. Doesn’t matter the time or day unless it’s regarding your returning date
♡ Z. Zzz ♡
Do they sleep a lot? Not enough? Night owl or early bird? Light sleeper or heavy?
The theme of the hour is you could be in store for almost anything!
Ranging anywhere from jumping into bed when you mention getting tired and passing out at his desk at an unholy hour, it really depends on the day and Lucifer’s mood. He could have nightmares and cling to you in his sleep, he could wake up at 3am with a brilliant idea that he just has to get done right then and there, he could stay snoring in your arms! Normally, as long as you don’t get out of bed he’ll stay asleep
Don’t even think about getting up to pee, he’ll illuminate the room with his big and pitiful crimson eyes
“Where’re you goin?” He mumbles, still partly asleep
“Be right back, duckie.”
Your lips linger on his forehead while his eyes droop shut once more. Give it a few seconds then carefully slide out of bed. Just be back before he wakes up!
~
╰(*´︶`*)╯♡
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lostberet · 1 month
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꒰‧₊˚🍊☆༉‧₊˚. ROLL & DICE
Your parents never approved of your boyfriend. Your dad loves his car, your boyfriend loves to win, and you love to celebrate his victories.
✒ pair. min yoongi x fem!reader ↪ tags. smut racer boyfriend!yoongi, established relationship, racer au, inspired by fast and furious kinda, ODETARI inspired, slight age gap (reader is 19, yoongi is 22). plot. Your boyfriend takes you to a car meet, in which he is racing. After winning the race, you guys ditch to celebrate between yourselves. cw. smut, car sex, parking lot sex car (public sex?), racing, reader gets a bit scared at how fast it goes, dirty talk, yoongi referring to reader as a princess, hoseok calls reader mama, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it), hand kink, choking kink, spanking, big!dick!yoongi because he is, creampie. english is not my first lenguage, if i missed anything, let me know a/n. I am literally so in love with yoongi, I love him so much, he is my man he just so- UGH, I bite my pillow whenever I see anything relating to Yoongi, I'm so obsessed. Anyways, enjoy, comment and reblog! chiao!
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masterlist || entry ||
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It was noisy, stinky and slutty.
Your boyfriend's hand tested on your hip, holding you close to him as both of you leaned on the hood of his Dark Blue Mustang, the orange LED lights under the car lighting your feet. You wore a jean mini skirt, pink plump heels, and a tank top that also matched the pink of your heels. Your closet sure was more brighter than your boyfriend's who only wore a baggy black sweats and an oversized black t-shirt. You wore gold jewelry, he wore silver. Yoongi eyed the crowed before turning to look at you, leaning in to whisper in your ear before being interrupted by a loud greeting.
"Yo mama looks good today, Agust D, how'd you been?" A man with a heart-shaped smile walked over as he greeted Yoongi with a hug and a pat on his back, "Smile Hoya!" Yoongi greeted back, turning to look at you and extending his arm towards you, "My woman always looks great."
You accepted Yoongi's hand, smiling at his friend, "Thanks for having me tonight, Smile Hoya" Smile Hoya just waved his hand, for his street style, he sure looked very bright, "Call me Hobi, you're my main guy's girl."
You only smiled, hiding your face on your boyfriend's shoulder while Hobi turned to Yoongi, "Better not lose tonight, got thousands on this baby right here." Hobi stated while he patted the Mustang's hood.
Yoongi only rolled his eyes, "I never lose, Smiles." Hobi, swinging his index finger in the air, "Not with Kai in the house." Turning his whole body towards you, Yoongi hugged your waist, looking down at you, "She's my lucky charm tonight and always." And with a final laugh, Hobi left the two of you alone.
"Shut up, D." You teased before leaning in and pecking his lips. Yoongi only pocked the inside of his cheek with his tongue, "If I win, can I have this?" He asked before slapping your ass, causing your to jerk up. You let out a laugh and smacked his chest, pulling away from him, "Sure you can, only if you win."
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"Engines ready!" Yelled a blonde, her bikini top was loose and her shorts were down a bit to where her pink thong was displayed. You looked at Yoongi as he prepared himself, checking the mirrors and losing his nerves. You chuckled a bit before looking in front. The blonde removed her bikini top, displaying her breast. Your jaw dropped as you let out a breathy laugh. You still couldn't get used to this stuff.
"Yours are way prettier, princess." Yoongi teased as he gazed his eyes down on the ground right in front of the blonde's feet. You softly hit Yoongi's arm, which he only laughed. His grip on the steering wheel tightened as he stepped on the handle, letting the Mustang roar. His head turned to his left, where Kai was, his windows rolled down as he sent Yoongi a friendly raise of his hand, Yoongi only nodded once at him.
"Ready.." The blonde echoed once more, eyeing the crowd as they cheered, "Get Set," She commented as she raised her yellow bikini top. You felt your anxiety kick in as you rubbed your hands on your thighs. "Go!" The moment the blonde threw the bikini top on the ground, Yoongi stepped on the paddle, sending the car in motion. Your body pressed back on the seat, Yoongi played with the paddle as he drove the car, smirking as he noticed Kai being left only a few feet behind.
Yoongi reached over towards you and grabbed the walky-talky from your lap, "Smiles, tell me where to go." The other line fell silent before Hobi's cheery voice came on, cheers could be heard in the background, "Turn right into Avenue Street, and you'll get into the highway all down to Washington."
"Thanks, bud, see you at the finish line." Yoongi echoed before throwing the walky-talky behind on the seats and making a sharp turn to the right on Avenue Street. "The Highway??" You asked, holding onto the seat under you, "they cleared the highway up, princess." You frowned your brows a bit, "uh, yoongi.. that's illegal.." Yoongi only let out a deep chuckle, "I know."
Getting into the highway, yoongi changed the handle, causing the car to speed further, noticing Kai catching up. It all seemed to be going well until Hobi's voice echoed on the eat behind him, "D, police noticed the blockage, change of route." Yoongi breathed out a cuss, "princess, can you get the talky for me?" You nodded and turned your body, bending over the small space to grab the talky.
"Nice ass. You wore those cute undies i like?" Yoongi commented, making you turn faster than the speed of light, your face flushed, "you perv.." you huffed as you handed him the talky. Yoongi only grinned before replaying to Hobi, "if the police appear on my ass, we're splitting the money 75 to 25." Yoongi warned, causing the other line to laugh. "If they appear, you just gotta lose them, old pal."
Turning down the highway into a curvy road, Yoongi felt his heart stop, seeing the police car parked. Unable to do anything, he shook his head and continued down the road, causing the police siren to go off. You looked behind you to see the bright blue and red lights, "Seat belt, princess, we've talked about this" You nodded and quickly put on your seatbelt.
The speed of the car made you feel as if you were floating, an interestingly terrifying feeling. You gulped as you felt the sharp turns, "Yoongi.." you whispered, his hand holding yours that clenched your skirt, "You're okay, princess, I'm here."
On the right, Kai sped up, making a right turn to leave the highway and find another route. Yoongi mentally praised the guy. Yoongi had memorized all the streets in the city, that's what every great street racer does, always be prepared. Yoongi grabbed the talky, "Hobi, prepare that finish line, imma lose this shitty cop." Changing the speed, your boyfriend drove towards an exit, going into smaller streets, it was dangerous, but at least he'd lose the cop.
Running through some neighborhoods and allies, Yoongi was able to lose the cop, lightly rubbing your thigh, "see, lost 'em." You only let out a soft laugh, taking a breath in. Hopping back into the right route, Yoongi eyed each enterence, knowing Kai would pop out. As if calculated, Yoongi shifted a lane, Kai appearing beside him, "fucking dick."
The cars were neck to neck, and the sound of the engine echoed in your ears as you gripped the seat, closing your eyes. Yoongi eyed the car next to him, his brows frowning. He could tell from the multiple colors that the finish line had been set, and everyone was waiting for the winner. Yoongi reached behind him, and the sound of clicking and tapping could be heard, "what are you doing?"
Yoongi looked over at you, "winning this race." Your eyes trailed back to the road, your mouth opening a bit in suprise, "so that's how racers do.." Yoongi only giggled softly, setting himself before he grabbed a small control, handling it to you, "have the honor of winning this race."
Your eyes shined as you saw the remote, grabbing the remote and kissing Yoongi's cheek. You waited until Yoongi's call to press it. Kai seemed to have thought the same thing. However, he did it sooner. His car flaying forward. Yoongi only barked out a laugh, "idiot."
After 10 seconds, his car lost its speed, falling back to be neck to neck. Yoongi smirked as he stepped on the peddle, speeding beside him, "Now!" You pressed the button, this time his Mustang flying forwards, you let out a yelp in surprise at the speed, "Oh shit."
You closed your eyes, not wanting to think much about the speed, and before you knew it, the car had slowed down, Yoongi's laugh echoing in the closed space of the car. He did a U-turn and was soon coming to a complete stop. You heard cheers coming from outside the car, your sign that you've made it through the finish line.
You opened your eyes to see people crowding the car. You were about to step out when Yoongi stopped you, "Wait." He lowered the window on his side, Hobi pushing his way through, "You the man, D!" Hobi praised, "Cop was on my ass Smiles, I warned you.”
Hobi only rolled his eyes, "yeah, yeah, I know man–" the sound of sirens distracted the crowd, causing people to scatter to their own cars, "Enjoy your chase, Smiles" Yoongi smirked before driving off, Hobi stood frozen in the chaos before flipping the Mustang off.
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The light sound of sirens echoed in the darkness of the parking lot, a few floors of the lower level, the area was dark, probably since it was an old lot. The cops wouldn't check there, and your boyfriend knew that. Yoongi let out a laugh as he looked over, seeing the chase of many cars by the cops, some actually even being pulled over, "We lost them, princess."
You only let out a moan, holding onto the hood of the car. Your boyfriend had you bent over the hood, skirt up to your waist, and cock balls deep inside you. Your pussy clenches around him, leaking from the multiple orgasms you've already had. Yoongi's sticky fingers from all the fingering rested on your hip, your heels weren't bringing in any support to you, having to stand on the tips, "fuck, yoongi.." You whined.
"yes, princess" Your boyfriend purrs, unbothered by your panting self. He pressed his hips more onto yours, feeling him push his dick deeper into you, "please.." your voice was low, yet he understood what you wanted. His fingers dug into your waist as he brought your hips back harder against his own, and the way he was thrusting into you had you feeling like the air was being punched out of your lungs.
His dick was so big, so long, so thick. He knew how to fuck, and he was fucking you so good. Your gummy like walls pulsing around his veiny cock making you moan out filthy words you never imagined that would ever come out of your mouth. He drove you to sin.
Yoongi's hand snaked towards your throat, his fingers wrapping around your throat, as his pace picked up, "You like my hands wrapping around your pretty throat, huh?" You heard him chuckle from behind, getting a moan out of you. Your boyfriend pulled your upper body against his chest, your back pushed against his chest, and a strangled moan escaped your lips, the sensation starting to make you feel light headed.
He was so damn good, and you felt yourself nearing your climax, with him still pounding into you from behind, your breast brushing against the hood as the car moved with the force of his thrusts, and you came, moaning loudly, your orgasm making your body shake, and the sound of your cries was drowned out by the sirens of the police, looking for many more of the racers.
Your hips stuttered, and your vision became hazy as he continued to pound into you, fucking you through your orgasm, and you whimpered at the sensory overload, "Slow down.. yoongi,.." you whined, your hand reaching back to hold onto his stomach, trying to push him back just a bit.
Yoongi then took your arm, pinning it behind you, his free hand slapping your ass, causing you to jerk forward, "Let me savor my victory, princess." You twitched under him, still not over your intense orgasm, feeling his cock twitch as he slipped in and out of you, furiously fucking himself into you. His head was thrown back, and soft moans left his mouth. His breath hitched when a load of his milky white cum shot out.
Your eyes rolled back, and it had him gritting his teeth, grinding into you until you couldn't stand, and his own legs barely kept him up anymore. He panted softly, gulping as you melted into him, both of his arms hugging your waist. Slowly, he got himself off you, holding you in place to not collapse.
The sirens had died down by the time Yoongi had helped you clean yourself up. You were shivering from the cold as Yoongi unlocked the car, gesturing for you to get on as he looked down at the street, "This is why your mom hates me." Yoongi commented, causing you to stop before getting into the car, "She hates the age gap and your car."
"Exactly, your dad loves me and your mom hates me." Yoongi leaned in and kissed your forehead, "My dad likes your car, not you." You corrected. Yoongi only shrugged, "tomato, tomato."
After settling you into the passenger seat, Yoongi handed you his jacket to cover your legs, "A win is still a win." Starting the engine, Yoongi leaned into the steering wheel, gaze fixed on you, "And you know how to win."
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a/n. I love yoongi :c
315 notes · View notes
fallingdownhell · 11 months
Note
Omg pls a part two for Kaeya and Diluc forgetting your birthday it’s so good I LOVE ANGST <3
Alrighty, fine. Since so many more people asked for a part 2, here it is.But I can't promise that everything goes fine..
Characters Included: Diluc; Kaeya
Content: gender neutral reader; hurt/comfort; angst; hurt/no comfort; one is gonna be forgiven, the other one not
Word count: 1,9k words
Please enjoy reading!
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Diluc
Gods, he was so exhausted.
He wished for nothing more than to just walk over to his bedroom and fall asleep on the bed, but he couldn't. He had some important matters he still had to attend to before he could go do that.
He was currently hunched over his desk, scanning over some documents that needed his attention. It was late at night, yet there was still light shining from under the door, as well as footsteps coming from the mansion.
Diluc paid that no mind however, trying to focus back on his work. However, when he heard a pair of footsteps walk up the staircase, he put his pen down, listening to them.
He was fairly sure that it was you, so he listened to it, hoping that you would come inside to check on him. He knew he shouldn't have lashed out at you like that earlier and he wanted to apologize to you for it.
However, the person outside kept walking, past the door to his office and instead went into the next room, which was the bedroom that belonged to the both of you.
At first, he didn't think too much of it, maybe you were just really tired and going to bed now. But, as he continued to listen, it got more and more strange to him. Your footsteps hadn't quietet down at all. You were apparently still walking around the room, he could hear the opening and closing of drawers and closets.
He had half a mind to walk over there and ask you what you're doing in the middle of the night. Then again, he wasn't really any better and he really had to finish this, but when suddenly a second pair of footsteps climbed up the stairs, his attention was taken to them.
A few seconds latter, soft knocking was heard on the wodden door, followed by Adelinde's voice asking to enter the study. Diluc allowed her inside but turned his attention finally back to his work.
He noticed her approaching the table and putting a plate down in front of him. He glanced at it, laying his eyes upon a nice looking piece of cake.
"Did you bake that, Adelinde? It looks delicious. I'll eat it once I'm done here."
He was about to dismiss her, but the fact that she hadn't said a word made him look at her with his full attention now.
"Master Diluc.. do you really not remember?"
"Remember what, Adelinde? You'll have to be more specific than that."
She looked at him for a few more seconds, it almost seemed to him like her eyes were boring into his very soul. Then, she turned around and approached the door again. She stepped out into the hallway, moving to close the door but before she did so, she said one last thing to him.
"Today was their birthday."
Then Adelinde closed the door, leaving Diluc in the room all by himself.
Hearing those words put him into a shock. No.. this couldn't be..
He...forgot?
Suddenly, thousands of times and situations played in his head where you tried to grab his attention and he had dismissed you every single time.. how long had he been treating you like this?
Then, a loud sound rang from the bedroom next door, and Diluc suddenly got ahold of himself again.
He immediately shot up and ran outside, bursting through the door to your shared room, startling you in the process. But the sight before him made his heart clench like never before.
The sight of you, stuffing some of your clothes and other belongings into a bag, your eyes red and swollen, probably from crying.
"D-Diluc? What are you... why are you here?"
You asked him, but he didn't answer. Instead, he walked over to you, steps quick, and pulled you into his arms, hugging you tightly.
"D-diluc? What-!"
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, (Name)."
Suddenly understanding what this was about, you relaxed a bit, but didn't do anything else. You didn't reciprocate the hug, either, and no words left your lips..
"I'm so sorry.. for everything. I didn't even realize how badly I was treating you." He fell on his knees in front of you, taking your hands into his, holding them tightly.
"Please, believe when I say that this was never my intention. I love you very dearly, (Name). I know I didn't show it for some time, but I do. Nothing can ever change how I feel about you. So please... don't leave.."
By the end of it, his voice sounded broken, silent cries leaving him as tears streamed down his face. You looked down on him, seeing him all broken down in front of you, and you feel your resolve begin to waver.
Maybe.. maybe you could try again with him..
But then you remembered the last few months, how he pushed you away every single time you tried to adress something with him... how he pushed you away on your own birhtday...
Gently, you pull your hands out of his grip. Diluc immediately understood what this gesture meant, yet he wasn't willing to accept this.
"(Name), please-!"
"No, Diluc. I can't anymore. Who's to tell me that you won't go back to treating me like this after a few weeks again? I tried it. I tried to deal with it and I tried to talk to you, but you never wanted to. You always shut me down. Well, I hope you're happy because I am done. I can't keep feeling like I'm worth nothing to you.
Thank you, for all the time I had with you, but it's over now."
You gave him one last, mournful look, then grabbed your bag and walked past him.
He let you... there was nothing else he could do..
He listened to you walking down the stairs, listened to the heavy front door open, and then.. It feel closed again.
And just like that.. you were out of his life..
He lost you and this time, he had noone else to blame but himself and his own stupid decisions..
He broke down again, crying so hard like he hadn't done in years. If only he wouldn't have been so stupid..
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Kaeya
Tired and still angry from the events that had happened yesterday, Kaeya was sitting in his office again, stationed at the Knights of Favonius headquarters.
He was looking through files and documents he didn't get to finish yesterday because he suddenly had the workload of four other people pushed onto him.
He was still angrily mumbling to himself when a knock on the door resonated within his office. He didn't bother giving an answer, yet the other person took that as permission to enter, pushing the door open to reveal Lisa to the stressed out Kavalry captain.
"Kaeya, there you are! We were missing you at (Name's) party yesterday. Why weren't you there?"
Oh, now that pissed him off even more. He put his utensiles down, trying to control his emotions and actions. He looked at Lisa, smiling at her, yet it was obvious how faked and forced it was.
"Well, I think the bigger question here is, why were you at a party during work hours in the first place. I wouldn't mind you going, but why convince everyone else along, leaving all of the work for me alone to handle?"
"..Why wouldn't I go to the party I, myself, organized?", she questioned, looking at him confused. Like she was trying to figure something out.
"You were organizing that atrocious thing? Well, in that case that begs even more questions. Again, why pull everyone else along except me? Also, why plan it in my and (name's) shared house, of all places?"
She didn't answer immediately like the times before. Instead, she was still looking at Kaeya, until a few seconds later, her entire face lit up in realization.
"Oh, you idiot..", she mumbled, shaking her head in disbelief.
"Excuse me? I do think it's not-!"
"Kaeya, you idiot! You really forgot?"
"...Forgot what?", he asked, now being confused himself. Why was she reacting this way?
"You really did... it was their birthday yesterday! That's what the party was for! Also, wasn't this whole thing your idea in the first place?"
At her words, his eyes widened in shock, realization hitting him now as well. He did.. He forgot your birthday.
Immediately after that, he thought back to yesterday.. the words he spat in your mouth.. the way your eyes teared up in front of him.. and he just ignored it, walked away like the entire world just revolved around him alone..
He took one look at Lisa, who was just nodding at him. He did so as well, grabbing his coat and then he started running.
Kaeya ran out the headquarters through the streets of Mondstadt, only having one destination in mind. He never slowed down, not even for a second to catch his breath. Only when he was finally standing in front of his own door did he do so as he was trying to fish the keys out of his pocket.
He unlocked the door and immediately entered.
"(Name)?", he shouted as soon as he closed the door behind him. He listened for a few seconds, but... nothing. No answer, no sounds.
He panicked a bit as he began to search the place. The house was still a mess from yesterday, but he didn't care for that right now.
Kaeya searched through every room, shouting your name to try and grab your attention.
The panic began to settle a bit as he opened the bedroom door, seeing you still asleep on the bed.
He approached you, finding you clutching his own pillow close to you, like you have been searching for some comfort. Your eyes were all red and swollen up, because of your crying.
'The crying that you, yourself, caused..', he thought, feeling sorry for what he had said to you.
He went on his knees on the floor, next to the bed. He inspected your, now peaceful looking face, for a few more seconds.
"(Name), wake up, please.", he said gently, stroking some stray hair out of your face.
You began shifting in your sleep and soon enough, you opened your eyes.
Seeing Kaeya, you remember his hurtful words from yesterday night right away, so you were trying to create some space between the both of you.
"No, no!", he exclaimed, getting up from his knees and putting his arms around you, hugging you close to him.
"I am so sorry about yesterday, (name). I don't know how it could have possibly slipped my mind, but it did. Words can't describe how awful I feel about the things I said, but please know that I meant none of them.
I love you, and I'll do anything for you. You have every right to be angry with me and never forgive me for what I said and did, but.. please.."
After he finished, you stayed silent, not knowing how to respond to this. Then, you felt something wet against your shoulder. First it was only one time, then it got more and more and you knew that Kaeya was crying against your shoulder right now.
You then, finally, hugged him back.
He was so relieved that you did this, hoping that this meant one step into the right direction.
Maybe.. someday in the future, you can forgive Kaeya for this...
1K notes · View notes
oharaslover · 5 months
Text
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(i mixed these two together so i hope that it’s okay with the individual anons :D )
dress
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pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader
content: smut, feelings of betrayal(not from reader), unprotected p in v, oral (f and m receiving), begging (from reader), panty sniffing
author’s note: quick question, do you all prefer longer (4k+ words) or shorter fics 🤨 italics is flashback btw :) (i’m not rly a swiftie so i’m sorry if i butchered this 😭)
word count: 3.5k
The dress itself was nothing short of beautiful, the shade of red accentuated you beautifully and it hugged your curves perfectly. Though you received many compliments and longing looks from the people at the event, none of them were from the man that you wanted. You weren't too sure if you'd see him again after such a long time being away from Nueva York but you kept your hopes up. The room was full of your soon-to-be coworkers but you had little interest in trying to maintain pointless conversation with them.
You walked over to the food table and grabbed yourself a Coke with a bag of chips, the rest of the food looking unappealing. You turned around and were met with a broad chest, the impact causing you to stumble back a little bit and drop your chip bag. "Sorry about that," you told the person you'd bumped into, grabbing your chips. "No worries, it's all good."
The voice took you back to the days of sneaking around the library when no one was around, of hiding around in the bleachers after football practice was over, and of the day you left Nueva York. You weren't expecting to find him so fast in the crowd, but you had to admit that the time apart had done him well. He was no longer the tall and awkward boy you met during a study group but a man molded by experience and muscle.
"You look as beautiful as the first day I saw you," Miguel lowered his head to whisper in your ear, affirming your suspicions that he'd recognized you. You had about a thousand words that you wanted to say to him but none of them could compute into complete sentences. When you opened your mouth to respond, you were left by yourself at the food table. You decided to push away the butterflies that were swarming around in your stomach and went to go talk to some of the other people at the event.
You'd taken your letter from Columbia back to Miguel's house, a unsaid pact between the two of you that you'd open your letters together. You could only hope that the amount of endless nights studying in the library would pay off but a part of you felt dread at having to open it. You knocked on his door, shifting from foot to foot nervously as you waited for his response. He came out with his headset half on, wearing a pair of sweatpants and thick black glasses. "Hey, come in," he told you, gesturing you to come in.
"I got waitlisted," you told him as you opened the letter, looking up to see that his expression had shifted to something solemn. "It's okay. we can still go to college together. You got accepted to NYU right?" He tried to offer a solution but you bit down on your bottom lip, trying to figure out the best way to tell him. "I'm not staying in Nueva York for college. I applied to UCLA and got in. I hope you're not mad at me or anything," you responded, playing with your fingers nervously. "It's okay, we'll stay in contact and call every weekend."
The two of you did not stay in contact after the first couple months and you felt like you were just a spectator in his life. He'd been going to clubs and frat parties, a complete 180 from who you'd met, and the realization that you didn't fit into his life anymore hit hard. Though you wished that you could've ended things in person with him, you ended up breaking up with him in text after seeing him get too cozy with a girl on his Instagram story. You knew that it was your decision to go away but you couldn't help but feel upset at how fast he'd moved on from you.
"Are you okay? You've been staring into space for a while," One of your coworkers spoke, breaking you out of your thought as they waved a hand in front of your face. You blinked, returning your attention back to the conversation at hand. “Yeah, I’m all good. What's this about the cafeteria on the second floor though?" you responded, trying to engage in the conversation even though you felt a pair of red eyes staring at your every movement.
The evening went by quickly and soon enough, the event began to wind down. You thanked your boss for the job opportunity and for hosting the party before heading out, waiting for your taxi outside. Goosebumps formed on your skin as you shifted from foot to foot, unaccustomed to the Nueva York night air. You felt a jacket on your shoulders, looking up to see Miguel standing there next to you. "I know you don't owe me anything but I'd like to talk to you. It's been a while," he spoke up after a while, his voice coming out raw like it'd been difficult just to get the words out.
The drive back to Miguel’s place was spent mostly in silence with some questions coming from the taxi driver in front. "So how long have the two of you been dating?" the man up front asked as he approached a red light, doing his best to be polite. Miguel kept his mouth shut, practically drilling holes at the taxi driver's headrest with his eyes. "We're not dating, actually," you responded awkwardly, offering a small smile to counteract the glaring from the man next to you. "Oh, I’m sorry for assuming," he responded, staying quiet for the rest of the ride after that.
"Thank you," you told the taxi driver once he pulled up to Miguel’s penthouse, getting your wallet out to pay. Miguel pushed your hand away and handed the driver a twenty, getting out of the car without a word. "Sorry about him. He's a little.. temperamental," you mumbled, getting out of the car after Miguel. You followed him up to his house, taking note of how nice the area was around you two. He gestured you to come in, holding the door open for you.
You stepped inside his house and you couldn't help but notice that even though he lived in an expensive neighborhood and he had expensive furniture around the place, the house was devoid of anything that made it a home. Miguel shut the door and unbuttoned his shirt at the top as he walked over to the kitchen. "You didn't eat anything at the party, what do you want to eat?" He asked you, leaning against the counter a bit as he waited for your response. "I’m not hung-" you started to say but your grumbling stomach betrayed your words. "Whatever's easy to make then."
"When'd you get back to Nueva York?" He asked, his voice taking on a note of indifference like the time you'd spent beforehand didn't matter to him. "I got back around three months ago, I think? I’m still getting adjusted to living on the east coast again," you responded, thanking him for the meal that he'd made. The smell of seasoning and spices filled up the kitchen after he was done cooking, the plate of food looking nothing less than inviting. "And you didn't think to call me? To see how I was doing without you?"
You almost choked on your food as he asked you these questions and you immediately reached out to grab the bottle of water he'd set down. "I didn't think that we were in a position for friendly conversation. Last time I saw you, you were dancing with some girl at a club," you responded, keeping your eyes on your food so you wouldn't have to meet his face. He sat down across from you, his presence demanding for you to pay attention to him. "You left me. You don't know how hard it's been to force myself not to call you and see how you're doing. To see if you still think about me as much as I think about you," he told you, his gaze unwavering as he looked at you.
"Tell me, why'd you apply to Alchemax?" He asked you after a couple moments of silence and you played with your food as you tried to avoid the question. "It's one of the best genetics labs in the country. It'll do miracles for my career," you responded, telling him the same lie that you told yourself when you clicked on the application button. "Ese cuento ni te lo crees tú. Te estoy pidiendo la verdad, nada mas y nada menos. Why'd you apply to Alchemax?" he asked you once more and you felt your defenses come down with the way his eyes softened as he looked at you. (you don’t even believe that story. i’m asking you for the truth, nothing more and nothing less)
"Because I was hoping to see you again, Miguel. I didn't think it would happen so soon and I would've been happy just to see that you were okay," you responded, finishing up with your food as you avoided all eye contact with him. "Then why'd you leave me?" He inquired, looking like the boy who'd gotten rejected from the football team all those years ago. "I didn't leave you, specifically. I left because I wanted to discover who I was without you, Miguel. I was just your girlfriend during high school, and while I don't regret our relationship one bit, I also didn't know who I was without you," you told him honestly, standing up to clean up the plates.
He led you to his bedroom after he'd taken over cleaning the plates, turning on the lights as the two of you stepped inside. He took the jacket off your shoulders and tossed it onto a chair he had on the side, taking a couple seconds to stare at you in the dress. He went behind you, sliding the zipper off with such precision and his mouth went to your shoulder, kissing every bit of skin that had become available to him. "I'll keep you buried with my cock all the time so you don't have to leave me," he mumbled, finishing up with the task at hand.
You got down on your knees and started to stroke him with your hand, trying to get adjusted to the size of him again. You kissed on his thighs the way that he liked when you two were together, the small shudder that ran through his body being enough proof that he still enjoyed the same things. You slowly lowered your mouth onto his cock, giving some kitten licks to the tip since you knew that would get him even more worked up.
You slowly swirled your tongue around the mushroom tip, licking every drop of precum that had leaked out during your teasing. You took more of him in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you tried to adjust to the size. Your hand pumped the base, squeezing around it tightly as you worked it in tandem with your mouth. His hand came to the back of your head, guiding you down his length to the best of his ability until you felt the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat. Your nose rubbed against his happy trail and even though tears were starting to brim on your waterline from how deep he was, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at having taken him so well.
You brought your mouth down to his balls, sucking on them and swirling your tongue around them while your hand jerked him off. The precum that had leaked out from his tip served as a perfect lubricant, making the whole experience all the more pleasurable towards Miguel. You brought your mouth back to his cock, your mouth running down the underside and tracing one of the veins running along the side.
"Look at me," he ordered, though his voice came out more ragged than he would've liked. you looked up at him, your mascara had dripped down your cheeks and the red lipstick that you'd worn tonight was smudged around the corners but you still looked so angelic to him. He leaned his head back, like the sight before him was just too much to look at while his hand continued to guide your head.
"Tan hermosa que eres," he murmured, his whole body shuddering as he came closer to that peak. (you’re so beautiful) He finished in your mouth and you swallowed it down greedily, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. He helped you stand up and carried you over to the bed, slotting himself right in between your legs. He hooked his pointer finger in your panties and slowly slid them down your legs, his gaze on your glistening cunt.
He brought your panties up to his face, taking in the scent of you. He put it to the side and looked over at you, kneeling between your legs. “I'm gonna keep those. Just in case you decide to run away again," he told you, pressing small kisses on your thighs. Your legs started to wiggle as he pressed featherlight kisses on them but his firm grip on your thighs restricted you from moving them any further. He bit down on the insides of your thighs, his canines piercing the skin slightly as his tongue lapped up the small drops of blood that dribbled down.
He started licking at your folds, taking his time to get adjusted to you and your taste again before he delved in. He thrust his tongue inside, his eyes closing from the sensation of having you under him once again. You brought your hands up to his hair, tugging gently on the black curls as he continued to tease your hole. He used his tongue to thrust in and out of you, his hands up on your breasts as he tugged and massaged the nipples. He used the tip of his nose to brush up against your clit, applying stimulation every so often.
His fingers came down to your cunt and he picked up the slick you'd released with his pointer and middle finger, bringing them up to your mouth. You took them instantly, your tongue swirling around his fingers as you tasted yourself, the result of what he'd made you feel in this time together. He slowly pushed one finger in, only reaching halfway before he filled up up. Your cunt squeezed tightly around his finger, coating him with a wave of fresh arousal as he began to thrust it in and out of you at a rapid pace.
His tongue came down on your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around the nub the way that had your toes curling and your hands gripping his hair. You swiveled your hips against his face, your orgasm starting to bubble up inside of you. "Beg me to cum. Beg me the same way I used to beg for you to stay in Nueva York," he told you, only stopping his movements to hear you plead for that sweet release. "Please Miguel! I won't leave you again, please just let me cum! I've been good," you pleaded, tears starting to build up at the prospect of having your orgasm ripped away from you.
"Doesn't really sound like you wanna cum, muñequita. Beg like you mean it and I’ll consider it," he teased you, his eyes sparkling with newfound mischief. You wondered why he wanted you to beg so badly, when he used to be the one who'd beg to be inside of you, to taste you, and be the one that would be willing to fuck your panties just for a feeling of you. "Please, Miguel! I'll stay with you this time! Just let me cum, please! I’ll be good," you complied with his request nonetheless, your bottom lip wobbling as you did.
He let out a dark chuckle and went back to fingering you, his mouth attached to your clit instantly. He let out a couple moans as he thrust his lower half into the mattress, seeking out a form of relief for himself as well. Your nails dug into his scalp but he didn't seem to mind, in fact, he seemed to go faster the harder you pulled at his hair. You came with a moan of his name, falling back onto the bed as you tried to control your erratic breathing.
He placed your legs against your chest as he aligned his cock with your entrance, your previous orgasm providing him with the ease that he needed to slide in. It was still a struggle to take in the sheer girth and length of him, but the sting didn't feel too bad after a couple seconds. He let you adjust to his cock before starting off slow, the look on his face being a complete change from when he'd asked you to beg. It felt like he was trying to make love to you rather than fuck you, each thrust deep but slow like he wanted to make this moment last.
"Miguel, go faster please," you spoke up after a while, needing more of what he could give you. You appreciated his efforts of wanting to take things slow, but you wanted to be fucked with such intensity that your legs would be wobbly after. He sped up, his balls slapping against the globes of your ass with each thrust. He brought your legs down and attached his mouth to one of your nipples, sucking on it like he'd been starved of the taste of you. Your hands came up to his hair once more, pulling on the strands with each relentless thrust that he gave.
You enclosed your legs around his waist to pull him even closer to you, wanting to feel the warmth you'd been missing. He brought his hand to your clit, rubbing small circles on the nub as he angled his cock to hit your most sensitive spot. Your legs began to shake as you felt the coil inside of you tightening up, threatening to snap at any moment. Your orgasm washed over you quickly, coating his cock in your slick as his thrusts started to get sloppier and faster. You tightened your legs around his waist, restricting his access to pull out. His eyes widened and you were quick to reassure him, "I'm on birth control."
He came quickly after that, his cum filling your walls completely as his cock pushed in you. He pulled his cock, making sure that he wouldn't overstimulate you in the process. He cleaned you up with a wet cloth, using light pressure as he cleaned the cum leaking out. You took a couple seconds to let your vision go back to normal before you stood up, grabbing your discarded bra and red dress.
"Where are you going, chula?" He asked you, causing you to stop your movements. "I'm going home. I figured that this was just a one night stand," you responded, looking back at him as you held your clothes in hand. "So you're gonna leave me again after you said you wouldn't?" He inquired, his brow raising as he challenged you. "What do you want me to do here, Miguel? We're not exactly friends at the moment and we're not strangers," you responded and he walked over, holding your hands in his.
"Choose to stay with me. we'll figure out this whole thing in the morning when we're not clouded with sex," he offered and you let out a small sigh, looking up at his red eyes. He could act as indifferent as he wanted, but those eyes showed nothing less than the longing that had accumulated in the time you'd left. "Do you have anything I can borrow?" you asked him, setting your clothes on the chair that his coat was resting on. "Figured you could sleep in that red dress of yours, you looked magnificent in it," he suggested before he walked over to the closet to hand you one of his shirts.
He helped you take your makeup off, even taking his time with the mascara though he was growing more and more agitated. He ended up going to a pharmacy that was open 24/7 near his home to get you a cleanser and some other necessities, making sure that you were comfortable in your stay here. The two of you laid down in his bed, intertwined in his sheets as his hand rubbed small circles on your exposed thigh.
"Where does this leave us, Miguel?" You asked him after a while, wanting to get some answers. "I've never stopped loving you, y'know. I've been hoping for a while that you would just show up on the street and still want to be with me. So I guess what I'm trying to ask if you'd like to go out on a date with me. Get to know and love me again," he responded, his movements on your thigh stopping as he talked before picking back up again.
"I'd love that. For the record though, I never stopped loving you either."
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sabokunsmalia · 6 months
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ʚ 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗟𝗘 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗬 (𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃) 𝗗𝗢 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗬𝗢𝗨 (𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧 2) ɞ 𝖋𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: nami, god usopp, trafalgar law, eustass kid, portgas d. ace & sabo 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌: nothing much except for pet names, sweet stuff, and gestures 𝖍𝖎 𝖎'𝖒 𝖒𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖆: part two without having someone ask for it because I'm a sucker for law, sabo and kid, and had to expose my thoughts about that to the world!
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ʚ cat burglar nami ɞ
↷ berry were nami's greatest treasure. she hoarded the green paper in different hideouts in the girls room, preparing for an ambush from another pirate crew. so, when you joined the straw hat crew, it turned out to be a surprise for the male's and robin when nami came back from a shopping trip and handed you the very first bag from the ones in her hand. she never gave anyone even the tiniest amount of berry, and if they agreed to pay her back, the deal carried high interest. the orange-haired woman might have been a heartwarming person towards people, but she became a greedy one when her treasures were involved. except for you, you could take all the money and she would still follow you with heart eyes.
↷ nami has been part of the straw hat crew for almost decades. she was the first women to experience how unlogical luffy's choices sometimes were, how often zoro lost his way, how many lies usopp could tell in a day and how sanji named his attacks after french meals. so on a particular rough day, when she swallows down the stress so easily after practising for years to not let their dumbness get to her, she decides you need a long bath to relax. and she runs you one without hesitation or even warning you about it. a bubble bath, the smell of fresh rose petals from robin's flower beds spread through the room as your hand was placed in nami's warm palm. leading you towards the stairs, she smiled when you let your towel fall and stepped inside, almost immediately a satisfied groan escaped your throat. and nami, she was extremely satisfied with herself.
↷ most of the things you drank, or the pies you ate and loved so much, were made by nami with the help of sanji. after the man accepted that his chances with the navigator have vanished since you joined the grew, the cook helped nami to create the sweetest desserts for you. and hell, she was desperate to receive the praise from your mouth as the sweet orange juice of the first bite lingered on your tongue. oh, nami loved to watch your face twist in pleasure, her hands underneath her chin and the elbows on her knees as she sat beside you. just the little words about her cooking skills were enough to make her day and paint a smile on her lips, gathering another tad of courage to try a much more difficult recipe. but never forgetting the oranges.
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ʚ god usopp ɞ
↷ oh, usopp knows how the adventures sometimes frighten you, and he's there, to hold your hand and always put a smile back on your face. he would make a fool out of himself a thousand times to ensure your mood was lifted again. when you did not get enough sleep because someone from another room was being awake all night and literally screaming through the corridors, usopp pulled the blanket back above your bodies and hugged you tighter while cuddling you back to sleep. when your stomach grumbled and you were especially hungry, usopp would fire up sanji to cook faster because his princess could die. totally overreacting but that was exactly the way he was. especially when it comes to you.
↷ imagine being in those muscular arms for an entire day, and i promise, once there is no fight and no enemies in sight, usopp will have his arms wrapped around you. sometimes around your waist from behind, pulling your back flush against his chest. sometimes over your shoulders and pulling you into an entire cuddle session. usopp could not keep his hands away from your irresistible self and beautiful soul. the sniper used any chance given to spend a free minute with you, either on deck, in his little workshop or any other place. life as a pirate was dangerous, life could end the next day or even minute. not being by your side, touching you, feeling your soft skin under his rough fingertips, it would be a great regret for the sniper.
↷ usopp loved to exit his workshop, walk towards the deck and find you on one of the loungers or maybe at the railing, wearing one of his hats or even glasses on top of your head. you were a beautiful sight for usopp before, but with his clothes or things attached to your stunning figure, he could faint each second. you looked so beautiful, and he would find a seat beside you. not one word was exchanged, usopp only kept staring at how pretty you made his things look with just wearing them. after almost too intense staring, the compliments would stumble out. a mess of words, mixed together in different compliments but most likely in a chaos of compliments where you had to find the right sentence together yourself. but you knew what he was like, and the flustered cheeks were enough for you to smile and laugh about the moment.
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ʚ trafalgar d. law ɞ
↷ when the polar tang submerged and did not leave enough room to have a minute away from the stupid conversations between shachi and penguin, law invited you to join him in his office. none of the crew members visited him there, only knocking at the door once the ship emerged again, or they have found something special and rare. so, you were the only person allowed in his personal bubble. a room, filled with documents and books about the history and newspapers about a time before the surgeon even decided to become a pirate. he would occasionally glance up from the paragraph he was reading, seeing if you were alright or on the brink of exploding to ask him a question. oh, he could easily read it in the twisted features of your face.
↷ law was a man who worked way too many hours in his life. nights were for calm reading or planning the next steps ahead while the extrovert idiots of his crew were asleep instead singing or playing around. so, the doctor did not sleep enough but he always wanted to make sure that you were getting enough rest. mostly, you fell asleep on the couch in his office, as you were watching how his inked fingers flipped the pages of the book while never tearing his eyes off a particular important paragraph. and when he looked up to glance at you, law almost chuckled at the sweet sight in front of him. instead, he would place the book on the desk, and grabbed one of the large blankets that you adored so much. placing it over your body, he carefully wrapped the soft fabric around your body with a smile, and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before taking his seat in his chair again.
↷ this man has a very hard time sharing any romantic interactions in public. he was attractive, there was no need to deny the obvious, and it was too difficult to stay completely calm when a beautiful girl flirted with him. to avoid another argument or certainly the need to answer one of those desperate women, law only had to raise his arm. it might be small but the tattoo on the side of his ring finger revealed the deep romantic relationship he shared with you. your name, in capital letters, written along the length of his digit. a small tattoo with such a large and important meaning. obviously, he would ask you one day if you would do the same for him, and suddenly, the two of you have a special kind of partner ink. it was enough to know for the two of you, even if penguin and shachi always teased their captain about finally committing to someone.
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ʚ eustass 'captain' kid ɞ
↷ kid's a rough man, he's always so loud and his voice is always accentuated by that particular grumpy growl coming from his throat. with you, the change was inevitable. not that he wasn't the violent man with the fight addiction and incomparable confidence anymore, but he started to calm down in your presence. mostly at night, when the victoria punk became a quiet place while the crew slept. mostly because there was too much booze drowned. kid drank a couple of glasses himself but his height allowed him to have more than others. staring off into the darkness, you shivered as the deep conversations between kid and you rolled on. and hell, he never thought he would have that kind of situation but he was so quick with shrugging off the warm feathery coat from his shoulders and placing them on yours. underneath the thick fabric, you almost disappeared as your arms slipped through the sleeves and never reached the end. the red-haired captain chuckled at the sight, but he also felt his heart beating faster at the same view.
↷ he always wears his red lipstick, mostly because he cares about looking presentable when it comes to such small things, but since you stepped into his life it had a different meaning for him. always making sure his lips were covered in red, kid's mouth traveled around your throat, along the line of your jaw and over your face. even around your cleavage, stomach and the insides of your thighs, leaving red lipstick marks along your delicate skin. even better, the marks of red accompanied by the blueish leftovers of his deep and rough bites. it was his favorite thing, marking you up to show off that you belonged to someone. oh, and how much he loved to explore your body another night, and find the same marks and color mix still peppered all across your soft skin. reminders of what he has done to you, reminders of a good night with him. reminders of his undying love for you.
↷ kid always loved to work with metal, he had a talent for creating and repairing things. with the devil fruit he ate, it just allowed him to work quicker, and even create much taller statues or weapons. he was dedicated to it, always seated in his workshop at the bench, putting together small pieces with his large hands while using his powers to keep them in place before putting them together. it was almost too beautiful to watch how creative and dedicated he was. but the most loving and beautiful part of his hobby became the fact that he always made a small present for you. a bracelet, to pull you towards him in dangerous situations or when he was just craving your touch so badly. a ring to confess his unyielding love to you, and make small promises at the same time. a beautiful hair clip when you were annoyed by your hair fluttering into your face while fighting. even the small dagger that was meant to protect your life in difficult moments, and was attached to your waist, was made by your beloved kid. the present's weren't always meant to be sweet, but they had an important meaning which was much more sincere.
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ʚ portgas d. ace ɞ
↷ let's have an honest moment right here. it's definitely a hat thing for the asl brothers, and ace would be like luffy in that situation. the commander loved it when you wore his hat around the ship, playing with the strings while having a particularly interesting conversation with marco about further plans. obviously it wasn't only the hat he loved to share with you. some days his pearl chain disappeared before he woke up from a long nap, and he found you, wearing it as your belt for the new dress you bought on the last island. the sight was made in heaven for the fire fist. he surely could never get enough of seeing you, wearing his little accessories. one day, he would come back from a mission, bringing you a pearl necklace of your own and making sure they included the two smiley's which were present on his hat. ace wanted the two of you to look as much as partners as possible.
↷ oh, ace was such a touch greedy man. he always had to have you around somehow, when he was on the moby dick. since pops trusted him with many missions, ace was missing from the crew for days, or sometimes even weeks, as he tried to fulfill what pops told him to. so, when ace returned to the whitebeard crew, his first task was to look for you and find out if you were alright. hands always wrapped around your waist, his chin placed in the curve of your neck as he placed butterfly kisses along the side of your throat. hell, he didn't even let you go when pops asked for your opinion on something and took the blame for it afterwards. ace showed his love with physical touch, and he was way too addicted to having his fingertips feel the softness of your delicate skin. he knew it could be over or too late one day, and he wouldn't want to miss a chance.
↷ surely, you never had to confront the freezing cold with ace as your boyfriend. he would make sure to always prepare a fire when the crew settled down at the island. he always lit candles around the shared bedroom, knowing that if one fell to the side, he could easily kill the fire without doubts. and while laying in bed, the blankets not even thick enough to keep the bites of cold away from your shuddering body, all you had to do was scoot closer to your boyfriend's chest. sprawled out hands were placed on your waist, grabbing the flesh of your hips tightly as the warmth spread from his fingertips through your body. the shivers disappeared and the comfort settled in, as ace used his devil fruit power's to raise the temperature underneath the blanket and even of the entire bedroom. he wouldn't want you to get sick, and what better way to have those incredible powers than to use them for your comfort.
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ʚ flame emperor sabo ɞ
↷ sabo was born a noble boy, and the choice of his clothing still kind of resembled the nobility of his former life. sure, he hated them. he despised how they treated humankind and put themselves above all. still his clothing remained. and you have never seen sabo in broad daylight, walking around without his gloves. they were his trademark, like the hat that always landed on your head when he was in a particularly difficult fight with an enemy. it was the same as his brothers, but this time, sabo usually carried the hat himself except for in those situations. also, the chief of staff would definitely buy you a pair of gloves yourself. thin fabric, almost see-through and a small bow on the side of your wrists. he would even help you put them on the very first time. so delicate and beautiful, just like the way he saw you. and well, he would buy a couple more pairs along the way or just bring them back with him.
↷ sabo would make sure he would give you a transponder snail. a way to always communicate with him when he was away, gathering important information or just advancing to save luffy from the enemies for another day. the revolutionary army was in possession of one transponder snail but it always stayed in dragon's office. sabo needed to hear your voice once in a while as he traveled across the vast ocean. just a simple greeting or a sweet confession from the other side of the transponder snail was enough to give sabo new strength. and he did not want to talk to five others before finally reaching you and only having limited time for a conversation. he needed you, needed the reassuring glint in your voice when you told him that he was going to be okay and come back home to you. all the words you said, the promises you made, turned sabo into an even stronger person than he has been before.
↷ sabo is a man who loves to spoil you, mostly with time together because he was always so damn busy as the chief of staff. second in command was a blessing, standing just underneath the leader, and having the chance to share his piece of mind. but it cost him time with you. so, sabo certainly tried his best to spend each free minute with you together. mostly, cooking a meal for the two of you, for a sweet candlelight dinner. going to a restaurant was impossible with the bounty which was on his head, knowing how many marines would bath in the glory of taking down the second in command of the revolutionary army. quality time was his kind of showing his love for you, and sabo's ways of cooking such a special dinner, with a glass of expensive wine and just a couple of hours for the two of you together, it was enough and a very pleasant surprise each and every single time.
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kinokkotsu · 7 months
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The Dim Light — Yuuta Okkotsu x F.Reader
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Today’s Music Recommendation: My Love Mine All Mine By Mitski.
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You did not believe in love at first sight until you saw him walk into the room. The pure appearance and the innocent personality of his caught you off guard. How could a person like this get cursed by a curse?
You stood tall next to him while he was avoided by the others during training. You thought he’d appreciate it, which he did. His nervous behavior and awkwardness could break a chuckle for all you care but you didn’t want to seem like you were harassing him so you’d bare with it.
The more you get to know him, the more you figured his heart belonged to someone else.
Someone who isn’t on the surface of earth anymore.
Someone who still stood next to him no matter what, even as a nothing.
Rika, that was what he called the special graded curse which almost took away your life when it noticed you glazing at him with full of passion and admiration.
He was a nice guy, you admitted.
A really..really nice guy.
There was a saying that goes — Whoever meant to see your light shall see it no matter how dim it is - you supposed he was no different from the others who shall not see the brightest stars within your dim light.
It was somewhere around December, you suppose it was on the 24th. You found yourself running back to the Jujutsu Tech from your mission as you were informed that a thick layer of veil had covered the whole area.
And the first thing that appeared in your brain was to protect Yuuta Okkotsu. The innocent and pure little guy who would always mess things up as a beginner. But that was just an underestimation of yours towards him. while you sweat bullets trying to enter the white pale veil, you noticed how the entire estate glowed in pink flash.
Was this a technique of Gojo?
No, you weren’t familiar with this kind of curse technique before.
All of a sudden, the energy that was produced by the veil weakened to the point where you could break through it.
You didn’t waste any moments and immediately rushed in. Arriving near the shrine, your body tensed up at the scene of your friends’ bodies laying on the solid floor. Your eyes detected every person on the ground but there was no sign of the special graded sorcerer.
you dashed deeper into the ruined buildings. Each step taking a thousand thoughts running feral within your brain. What you dropped all your worries was the sight of the 6 feet tall man running towards your direction.
Your pace slowed down as your vision focused on his divine face. “Gosh, I have been looking for you for goddamn sakes, where have you been!?” You raised your voice, watching him give you a relieved grin.
Before you could take another step forward, he pulled you into a hug. Your cheeks reddened as immediately as he did so.
“—thank goodness you’re okay..Maki, Panda and others..I-”
“They’re okay..I..I’m Okay.” you returned the hug awkwardly, feeling yourself get suffocated.
For the very first time in your life, you felt something that was so genuine in the hug that both of you couldn’t pull away for the next few seconds. Then you saw a small little girl standing behind Yuuta where you both caught off guard when she called him out.
Then many things happened after. apparently this girl was Rika who had been acting crazy over everyone that tried to get close to Yuuta. You saw how pure and genuine was their relationship when you watched Yuuta sobbed on his knees as he held onto Rika.
In the blink of an eye, you watched the girl disappear into the thin air while the male before you still remained silent.
You put a hand on his shoulder, holding back your envy and the pity you had for this guy.
You supposed you would somehow cope with these feelings that craved to burst out.
You supposed loving someone would never be a waste, nevertheless if they’re alive or not.
At this moment you somehow figured loving someone did not require for them to return the same favor as you.
To love was the best thing you could do — for him and.. for you.
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Sorry if the writing is ragged. The new episode, the leaks and this song got me fucked up for god sakes.
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