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#i finished the sword the night before which is
helvegen-s · 3 days
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Rage, rage | one
Prologue | one | two | three
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Pairing: Azriel x Hybern!Princess!OC
Summary: Nimue was a gift for the King of Hybern. His shining jewel, the perfect heir. However, she is clear about who the villain of the story is. When she saves her father's enemies from a tragic end, she realizes that now it's the Cauldron who has a gift for her: a mate.
Warnings: PTSD, description of injuries, bad language, the King of hybern (jumpscare), if there is anything more, please let me know.
A/N: so here it is, the first part. I really hope you enjoy it and that you get to love Nimue just as much as I do. Any kind of support is greatly appreciated! 🥰
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Standing in the middle of that enormous training ground, Nimue counted the scars on her hands one by one: first her left hand, tracing each one with her right thumb; then her right hand, tracing each one with her left thumb. It had become a ritual, something that anchored her back to the physical world, slowly pulling her away from her daydreams.
Once again, she felt the weight of her body on her own bones, on her own muscles. A couple of deep breaths, and with the short sword in her hand, she began the series of exercises again. The same series of exercises as yesterday, the day before, and for the last twenty years.
Twenty years in which Nimue had grown accustomed to her new life. New, because she knew she had always been there, inside the Cauldron, and against her will those hands had torn her away from her place, her home. She had ended up in Hybern, locked in a castle and with a princess title she didn't know where it came from, as she shared no genetic bond with the man who called himself her father, the King of Hybern.
The King of Hybern, who with the Cauldron in his hands and desperate to conceive a powerful heir, had submerged his poor and naive concubine in the poisonous water of the Cauldron. The woman, pregnant with the king's offspring and terrified of disobeying the cruel king's orders, obeyed.
Thus, the liquid of the Cauldron separated skin from muscle, muscle from tendon, tendon from bone, and the poor woman who screamed dissolved like salt in water. Before the eyes of the entire court, the King had burned one of his concubines alive, and in return, a young girl had emerged from the Cauldron. Nimue, The Radiant, the daughter of the king, created by the Cauldron.
Nimue knew all this because in the depths of her bones, and only when she let her guard down, she felt the despair of her mother when she was submerged. If she closed her eyes and concentrated, she could feel her own muscles dissolving, melting, the bones crunching and bursting, the muffled screams, the life of the poor woman extinguishing.
That only filled her with rage. A rage that boiled inside her, in every fiber of her being. Sometimes she let it grow, let it spread through every drop of her blood, like poison disguised in wine: she shaped it to her liking, gave it the form she wanted. She shaped her rage into swords, laying waste to entire legions with her rage, burning entire forests with her rage...
One could only imagine that in the face of such destruction, her "father" would be angry. No one wanted a daughter who killed hundreds of soldiers every time she trained. However, the reaction was completely opposite: a smile, some congratulations, a pat on the back, a kiss on the forehead, a small hug...
Small displays of affection that Nimue drank as if she were dying of thirst. After all, he was her "father".
Children are meant to make their parents proud. Or that's what she told herself every night before falling asleep.
She stopped abruptly before finishing her last set of exercises and looked up.
Above her, in the corridor surrounding that enclosed training ground, courtiers of her father, guards, servants, people who stopped to admire her if they had the time, kept passing by. Sometimes they made comments about the natural grace with which her movements seemed to defy gravity itself. Every gesture of hers was fluid and harmonious, as if she were in perfect harmony with the universe around her. It was so, because after all, the world around her had come from the Cauldron. And she was the Cauldron.
Sometimes, however, they made comments about the monster the King had created. An aberration.
With a flick of her wrist, her weapon disappeared into the air, she spun around, and left that training ground. She walked through the halls of the Palace, navigating intersections and crossing doors until she reached the very center of her home. The great stone cavern where the throne was situated. Even before entering, she could hear the voice of the King, and without entering the room, she listened.
"My patience is running out, filthy rats. If you don't know how to do your job, I'll have you thrown to the nagas, and let them do whatever they please with you, you pack of useless scoundrels."
Nimue entered the cavern, her gaze forward and her chin high, those airs of superiority she knew belonged to her. She walked among those present, who made way for her, feeling the hairs on their necks stand at attention in the presence of the princess. With a determined step, she approached her father, who only raised and lowered his eyebrows in response.
"What's the problem, father?" Oh, that mask of innocent girl that many swallowed. She might even dare say that sometimes, the King himself took her for naive, for innocent. When she was anything but, far from it.
She carefully observed the situation: before her father, and kneeling before the steps of the throne, were four of the six spies she knew her father had designated in Prythian, specifically in the Night Court. Among them, two bodies completely mutilated, almost unrecognizable. However, Nimue recognized them as the other two spies that were missing. She lifted her head and let the smell of blood penetrate her nose, savoring it on her palate. That's when she noticed the slightest hint of cedar and mist. She frowned and looked at her father.
"It's nothing, my sweet child. I'm just dealing with these useless ones," the King turned sharply towards those men, who, under the scrutiny of father and daughter, only sank deeper into their shame. With their heads bowed to the ground, they trembled so much that Nimue could hear the chatter of their teeth. "Do your job and find out everything. Everything. And if you have to kill that petty High Lord, you will."
Nimue did everything to hide her smile. She knew those four useless men stood no chance against that High Lord her father spoke of. She knew, because in the Cauldron, she saw the shadow of Rhysand: a vast pit, as deep as the greatest of lakes, and as black as darkness itself, so dark that Nimue saw her own scarlet eyes reflected in it.
By the Mother, Nimue doubted if her own father, without the aid of the Cauldron, would be a match for that vast darkness that undulated within High Lord Rhysand.
The King raised his hand, and with a gesture, all those present in the throne room bowed respectfully and left the without a word.
Nimue turned, ready to leave, but the King pointed at her and shook his finger. With the same hand, he made a gesture, as if pulling on a leash.
A leash that Nimue had worn around her neck since she had been torn from the Cauldron, and whose end her father held, with an iron grip. It was invisible, but when she even thought about how happy it would make her to leave the confines of the Palace, to see the world, she felt its weight around her neck, as if the King was her executioner and the leash his axe.
"Yes, father?" Her tone, completely compliant, made a fleeting smile cross the King's face.
"You will fight for me in this war, won't you, my dear?" he asked, voice so poisonous she almost gagged. Nimue felt her blood boil, her rage consuming her. "You will fight for me and win for me. I will release you onto the battlefield and you will descend upon them like rain upon dry earth. You will sow the fields with their blood, because that's what I've made you for, my Radiant jewel."
The marks of her nails digging into her palms turned into wounds, and when her magic closed them, she clenched her fists again, reopening them.
"Yes, father. I will be your weapon."
She felt the leash loosen, and with a pleased smile on his face, her father gave her permission to leave.
When she was out of the King's sight, Nimue imagined the thousand ways she would slit that old, rotten man's throat.
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Azriel let out a sigh, his own breath forming clouds in front of his face.
What was that pressure in his chest? Where was all that irrational rage coming from, burning his chest and taking his breath away?
His shadows swirled around his shoulders, buzzing and whispering to each other.
He did everything he could, searching in the depths of his being for the calm he needed at that moment.
Yes, rage, rage. We are furious.
Yes, that's it, furious.
Azriel clicked his tongue and shook his head, trying to rid himself of the incessant fluctuations of his shadows. He seemed like a horse shaking itself to get rid of the flies that tormented it so much.
"What's troubling you?" Cassian asked. A playful smile on his face while his gaze was fixed on some point in the city spread out before them. "It seems like your shadows are giving you a hard time."
"Never," Azriel replied without hesitation. He sighed again, rubbing his chest with one hand, right where that pressure seemed like it was about to pierce his body. "I feel like hitting something, someone. But it's not my desire, it feels strange."
Cassian burst into laughter as he leaned on the balcony rail. He closed his eyes for a moment, sinking into that brief moment of peace and enjoying the sunlight, before turning to look at his lifelong brother.
"I think we should call Madja. The spirit of Amren seems to have gotten into you and we'll have to get rid of it before you start giving us all dirty looks," he said, with a serious expression all of a sudden.
Azriel looked at him, raising an eyebrow and then sighing, ignoring the usual delusions of the Illyrian.
Both let the topic pass when they heard footsteps coming from inside the house. Cassian crossed the balcony threshold first, and while Azriel enjoyed a few last seconds of calm and sunshine before going back inside, he felt a pain in the palms of his hands. Stabbing, throbbing.
How strange, it had been a long time since the old scars on his hands had caused him sudden discomfort.
He would ask Madja for some ointment.
Because that's what it was, right?
As Cassian and Morrigan's voices echoed in the dining room, Azriel continued to prolong that moment of stability as much as he could. He felt like he was on the edge of a precipice, about to take a step forward without looking at what lay beyond. So as long as he could, he would enjoy those rays of sunshine, that scent of home, those views of the city they were rebuilding after Hybern's attack, hearing his friends laugh, and knowing that this was his place.
He went over the plan day and night since he and his family had conceived it: arrive, enter, break the Cauldron, and get out of there before the King even realized that they had snuck in.
It was perfect. There were variables, of course, but for the hundreds of unforeseen events Azriel had imagined, hundreds of solutions had been devised. It was perfect, and he trusted the plan.
But he felt so out of sorts...
Rage, it consumes us. It burns us.
Rage, rage.
It wasn't him, it wasn't his rage. He felt his own skin, his body, filled with emotions that weren't his. Like a container of some chemical mixture about to explode.
By the Mother, maybe he had eaten something strange at yesterday's dinner. Or perhaps it was the wine afterward, or maybe the countless drinks that followed at Rita's...
Because that's what it was, right?
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bloodbroox · 3 months
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WE DO BONES MOTHERFUCKER 🗡💀
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dcxdpdabbles · 4 months
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I JUST SAW THESE POSTS OF DANNY BEING RAS AL GHUL CHILD LIKE THE FIRST THAT IS LIKE 25-30 YEARS OLDER THAN TALIA AND MAKE MY BRAIN WORKS FUCKING WIGGLE!?!?!??
anyway
Danny established the status quo and the disappeared for 20-60 years and the is summoned by Ra where he’s like “Dad you could’ve have called my personal phone you know that right?” And Ra’s like “YOU WENT OFF THE GRID FOR YEARS AND NEVER TOOD ME-!!??!? Now do you look different? Are you eating? What’s with comingoutthesummoningcirclefortheghostking? HMMM???”
“Ah- I knew I forgot something! Let me tell you all about it! I see you brought the whole fam and in laws let’s have dinner and discuss it- AWWWW THATS BABIES!!!” *Damian, Jason, Tim, and Dick being referred to as “babies”*
“Excuse me.” Danny then fucking tackles them in hugs and loves while dodging and/or holding their punches and kicks
"My maternal uncle is coming for a visit and likely evaluate my living arrangements.. We must be at our absolute best when he is here. " Damian announces one evening right as the family is finishing preparing for a night of crime fighting.
Everyone freezes from their respective stations, twisting around to stare at the young Robin in confusion. He doesn't notice; he is too busy making sure his katana is sharpened to perfection and balancing it on his fingertips.
"Baby Bat?" Dick calls, "What do you mean by that?"
Damian pauses in his prep work, approaching the eldest with a pretty impressive scowl. " Mother sent a messenger a few days ago about Uncle's plan audit. Should we fail it, I shall be removed into a different household."
"An audit? Removed?" Steph repeats, confused, but Damian has no idea why. He thought it was pretty apparent that Uncle Daniel would be scoring them, which would determine if Damian would be allowed to continue living within them. He has done so to all of Ra Al Ghul's offspring, and nothing his Grandfather has done has been able to stop him.
How could they think they would have more power than his grandfather?
"When shall Dusan be here?" Father asks, quickly switching on the home security. "What kind of attack should we expect?"
Damian scoffs, "Not the White Ghost. Uncle Dusan is on the other side of the world on a mission for Grandfather. No, Uncle Daniel will be the one conducting the suit. He is the eldest, after all."
Father's eyes narrow behind the white lenses of his masks. "I was unaware your mother had more siblings."
Damian considers the words, wondering how he could politely- at least he shames Alfred- remind his father that his grandfather has been around for hundreds of years. Staying at his peak through the usage of the Lazarus Pit, he has never been short of lovers.
And sometimes those lovers have given him children, many who aged and died naturally, as none has deemed worthy of the Lazarus. All except for one, the First Son, who has never needed the Pits but remained youthful and powerful on his own.
The perfect heir.
It's too bad he had abdicated long before Damian was even a thought.
"Grandfather has had many children, but Uncle Daniel is different. Special. He is the First Son."
"Capital letters," Todd cuts in, shaking his head. "It's never good when the League of Assiasans assigns capital letters. How strong is he?"
"He could easily best Grandfather and all under Grandfather's command," Damian replies, watching as the rest of the vigilantes grew uneasy by the information. It's good that they are wear of Uncle Daniel's power but they have nothing to fear of his wrath. "Uncle Daniel is a pacifist. He carries a protective core."
"A Al Ghul that a pacifist? I'll believe it when I see it." Drake droned as he was clipping on his utility belt. At once, Damian felt his body grew hot with rage. No matter what, it seemed Drake would always curse his family.
The way he says the family name drips with disrespect as if the other teen was saying a swear.
"My Uncle Daniel is a great man!" He shouts, gripping his sword so har his knuckles ache. Drake's face twists as if though he smelled something foul and the rage burning in Damian's chest spreads to his whole body.
He is just about to reach for his throwing knives when a familiar cold hand settles into his hair. "Aw thank you Little One. I love you too."
"Uncle Daniel!" Damian shouts excitably, forgetting the fool he was about to run his blades through. His uncle stands before him, the same darl night hair, warm blue eyes, and a crooked smile that had secretly comforted him in his youth.
"Where in the world did he come from!?" Damian hears one of Father's adopted brutes gasp but does not care to see who as his uncle quickly reels him in for a hug.
Hugging Uncle Daniel was like being wrapped in warm blankets in winter. He always ran rather cold, but it was lovely to be wrapped in his arms and surrounded by his protection.
It felt like nothing in the world could harm him from here.
"You seem well, Little One. Are you happy?" His uncle says. The delict of their native tongue is another comfort Damian can sink into.
"I am." He allows, snuggling his face against his stomach, as childish as it is. If only he could grow taller like his father.
"Wonderful. I'm so glad." His uncle then switches to English, ignoring all the weapons drawn and pointing at him from the Bats. Damian steps back to admire the man he wishes to grow into. "I'm terribly sorry for arriving so late, nephew. You must be tired. When is your bed time?"
"I do not have a bedtime." Damian scoffs. Uncle Daniel frowns, reaching into his chest to pull out a clipboard and a pen- he'll never get used to his uncle storing things within himself no matter how often he sees it. Damian is pretty sure he heard someone gag.
A soft click is heard as his uncle opens the pen and quickly scribbles something down. He is not tall enough to see what is written, but he can see clearly as day that his uncle selected the red ink of the muli-color pen he is using.
He only uses red when he is doing bad things. Damian breaks into a sweat. "What was that? Uncle what did you just write?"
"No bedtime. Tsk tsk." Uncle Daniel mutters, looking around the cave with disapproval. "No proper heating living space."
"Oh no! I do not live down here. This is merely the training grounds. We live upstairs" Damian quickly says, waving his hands frantically in the air as his uncle's unimpressed look. Curses, the auduit just began and already he got bad markings.
"Would you care for a tour? I shall not be going on patrol-"
"He forces you to fight crime? At your age?" Uncle barks, throwing a look of utter disgust at Father. It's the same one he gives Grandfather whenever the older man tries to raise child soldiers.
Even Damian had not been sent on any missions. His childhood had been intense training but nothing that was life-threatening.
"I volunteered to go!" He tries to defend Father, but his uncle only clicks his pen and scrambles more red ink on his paper.
Drat and Damian were actually enjoying living at the manor. He will likely have to say goodbye to it all and be moved to some house Uncle deemed more child-friendly.
"What is your diet here? Have you been taken to the doctor? Any form of therapy?" His uncle fires each question quickly, walking through Todd and Cain when they try to apprehend him without a glance.
His uncle is, and not to sound like the fools of his school, so cool.
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perlelune · 12 days
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Oblivion | Paul Atreides
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There used to be beginnings and ends, nights and days, dream and reality, before the haze took over, swallowing every thought, every memory, every whisper of free will.
Warnings: NON-CON, Fremen Reader, Kynes!Reader, Mind Control, Memory Manipulation, Padishah Emperor Paul, Loss of Identity, Brainwashing, Mentions of war and religious fanaticism
This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.
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Muad’Dib leads the way. 
It is what the prophecy dictates. That he is the voice from the Outer World. The one who will lead your people to paradise. The one who will turn Dune’s arid desert lands into bountiful, endless green fields. 
But as your eyes rest on him, you do not see the chosen one. You do not see the Lisan Al-Ghaib. You see your friend Paul, broken, lost, his heart shattered into a million pieces due to your cousin’s absence. 
He sits at the head of his bed, shadows fluttering across his delicate features from the glowglobes’ dull orange light. Wide black rings surround his sunken blue eyes, the result of his daily consumption of spice melange. Lank, greasy brown curls hang around his handsome face. A pang twists your chest. He hasn’t slept in days, has barely gotten a full night of replenishing sleep since she left on a maker’s back.
You cannot blame your cousin. Paul’s ascendency to the Golden Lion throne came at a cost. A hefty one. Promises were broken. Trust was destroyed. Only time will repair the damage that was done. Though you carry faith the two of them will find their way back to each other. 
You stir the spice-coffee in the pot, straining the shimmering dark powder before pouring some in a cup. A spicy cinnamon smell coats the cool night air. 
You rise and bring the cup to him.
“For you, Usul.”
A soft smile blooms on his lips as he takes a slow, weary sip.
“You make it so well,” he praises.
You glow at the compliment, returning his smile. Your grandmother used to show you and Chani how to blend coffee beans with spice and herbs. The knowledge never left you. Now, every time you feel troubled or upset, you make a fresh kettleful. A single sip of the familiar brew is enough to alleviate your frazzled nerves. Especially here, so far away from Sietch Tabr, between the strange stone walls of the Arrakeen Keep, you have craved little reminders of home more than ever before.
Fremen belong in the desert, not in peculiar tents made of marble and stone.
Paul’s brows crumple as he studies you. 
“You don’t have to take care of me,” he says.
“I can get another Fremen-”
His fingers latch around your wrist, desperation sizzling under his touch. 
“I prefer it to be you.” He sighs. A bone deep fatigue radiates from the sound. You halt in your tracks. You suppose you could stay a while longer. “Please, stay, your presence soothes me.”
You nod. “I’ll stay, Muad’Dib.”
Relief falls over his features. 
The doors suddenly open, the guards stepping aside to let Stilgar in. He bows to Paul.
“Lisan Al-Ghaib…”
Your friend’s mouth flattens into a thin line. 
“I told you to stop calling me that.”
Stilgar acquiesces. He will never stop addressing Paul with reverence and admiration. None of his followers believes in him more. At times, it scares you a little. While you share the same faith, the fervor with which every Fedaykin is willing to lay their swords in his name can be frightening. Sometimes you wonder if Chani was right. How much will it take to liberate your world? How much blood will require spilling? You’re not completely naive. No war was ever won without a few casualties. Still, part of you hopes the war will end soon and peaceful times will come.
“No sign of her?” Paul asks. 
A contrite expression tugs the older man’s face.
“Apologies, my liege. We scouted the Southern regions this time. We couldn’t find her. She knows the desert well. It is home to us Fremen. She will not be found…”
“...Unless she wants to be found,” you finish, grabbing the empty cup from Paul’s hands and placing it back on the table.
The faint embers of hope in Paul’s cobalt gaze flicker out. Your heart sinks, for both you and him. Though you do not wish to burden him, you miss your cousin too. Her practicality and common sense. Her strength. Without her, a piece of you is missing. A crucial one. Your mother died in childbirth and your father in battle, so both of you grew up together, close enough in age to share secrets and play together for most of your childhood. 
It was Chani who taught you how to summon a worm and ride upon its back for the first time. She is the sister tragic circumstances blessed you with.
Stilgar apologizes profusely once more before taking his leave.
As soon as he’s gone, Paul’s shoulders slump.
���She hates me.” 
You crouch beside him.
“She doesn’t hate you. She never could. She is your quiet in the storm, and you are hers. She will return when she is ready.”
A wry laugh escapes his lips. 
“I have Irulan, my beloved wife, who is likely plotting my demise as we speak. Qizarate missionaries pressing me to take action and purge the non-believers on Aldinor. I am surrounded by foes, everywhere I look.” That distant expression he gets whenever his visions haunt him touches his face. “Blades pointed at my neck at all times, waiting for a sign of weakness to strike.”
You grab his hand, reassuring him, “You also have friends, Usul, who believe in your cause.”
“Fanatics,” he corrects bitterly. 
Your chest swells with worry. You don’t like it when he questions himself as such. His cause is right. He freed Arrakis from the Harkonnen’s iron-fisted rule. He will bring peace to every world in the universe. It is written. It’s the only path forward.
“You are not alone.” His fingers squeeze around yours. Warmth rushes to your face, the realization that you’re awfully close to the Emperor striking you. You adjust the nezhoni scarf covering your hair and rise. “I shall let you rest, my Lord.”
“Stay, please.”
His tone is beseeching. Your gaze swings to the window. There, moon beams pierce through the colorful glass, scattering rainbow splashes of light across the floor. Vibrant stars pepper the dark sky, pearls lost in a sea of ink. It’s pitch black outside. You should be in your own room. Not his.
“Muad’Dib, it’s late…”
His grip on your hand tightens. When he speaks again, his tone is different. Disembodied. Powerful. Its tantalizing echo drips inside your head like honey. 
“Stay,” he mumbles. You plop down on the bed, your body moving on its own, driven by the strange, irresistible thrall of Paul’s voice.
“Usul…” 
He cups your cheeks. 
“Sleep beside me tonight.”
“I’m not her.”
“I don’t want you to be.”
“She should be with me and she isn’t. But you are.” His inflection becomes soft and inviting as he drinks you in. As if he were lumbering through the desert, parched and desperate, and you were a well overflowing with fresh water. “You are beautiful. I never noticed before.” He pauses, tracing your bottom lip. “Perhaps I should have.”
You blink, dazed. When did Paul’s face get so close to yours? You can outline each of his long lashes, the speckles of green lingering in his blue eyes. 
“Paul-”
His mouth grazes yours, his thumb stroking your cheeks. It only lasts a few seconds. The warm plushness of his lips on yours yanks you back to reality. You gasp and flinch back. When you recoil, his silky tone fills your ears once more.
“Don’t fight it. You love me, remember?”
A confused whisper slips through your lips. Two parts of your mind wrestle with Paul’s words. 
“I do?”
His eyes dive into yours.
“Of course, you do.”
“Of course I do,” you repeat, his tone nudging aside the doubts lurking inside your mind. 
A bright smile unfurls on his lips, his lids sagging to half-mast.
“It’s like you said before. You are my quiet in the storm and I am yours.”
Right. You uttered those very same words. How could you forget?
You are Paul’s quiet in the storm. He is yours.
His mouth covers yours. It moves slowly against your own. He explores your mouth as he cradles your face. His long lashes fall over his cheekbones as he loses himself in your taste. He hums against your lips, gentle fingers touching your face. You don’t move, eyes half-open as you let it happen. It’s foreign, the sensation of Paul’s lips on yours. Foreign and strange yet you can’t help but numbly accept it. 
Once he frees your lips, he rests his forehead against yours. 
“Come into my arms, my love,” he says.
You don’t resist as he pulls you into his embrace, nudging you onto the bed. Soft strands of Paul’s brown mane brush against your cheek as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling your spice-coated scent. 
His arms circle your waist. Your back melds against his chest, the warmth of your bodies mingling through the thin layers of your clothes. 
“You smell so good,” he mutters. Your scarf shifts when he rubs his face against it. “Don’t ever leave me.”
When you don’t reply, his tone gets firmer. “Promise it.”
The words roll off your tongue easily.
“I won’t ever leave you, Paul.”
Tension leaks out of his tightly coiled muscles. 
“Good,” he says, drifting off to sleep quickly with you nestled in his snug embrace. 
You fall asleep too, no thoughts in your head, Paul’s soft snores lulling you into peaceful slumber. 
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You awake with a start, the stark unfamiliarity of the palatial chambers you find yourself in causing your pulse to soar. Your eyes dart about the room. Recognition hits you. These are the Emperor’s apartments.
Your eyes grow wide. You’re not supposed to be here. Panic sets in.
“W-What am I doing here?”
Paul’s quiet voice flows across your back.
“Calm down.”
“No. I shouldn’t be here…”
You start crawling off the bed but Paul’s fingers around your wrist impede your departure. 
He holds your face, vibrant blue eyes locking with yours. You find yourself incapable of looking away, ensnared by his unflinching focus.
“I said, Calm down.”
The alarms ringing inside your head fall quiet. You lean into Paul’s touch. What were you doing? What were you thinking? Every thought you attempt to grasp at evaporates in the heat of Muad’Dib’s stare. 
“There. Much better,” he coos, satisfaction hovering on his handsome face. His voice sinks into a sensual whisper. “Why don’t you kneel for me?”
You do as he instructs. Then all fades to black as quicksands of confusion engulf your thoughts. 
When you return to yourself, you aren’t on the bed anymore, but on your knees on the carpeted floor. 
Paul is looming over you, grunting, his throat bobbing. One of his hands is curled around your nape while the other is under your jaw. 
You note the saltiness coating your tongue, the drool on your chin, the soreness in the back of your throat. 
You choke on his length, air wavering inside your lungs. 
Paul’s cock is in your mouth. 
The sick, awful realization tumbles over you like a bag of stones. 
Muffled moans leave you as you lift pleading eyes towards him.
You place your hands on his thighs, shoving with all your strength. 
Paul doesn’t let you move. He cradles your face and thrusts inside your mouth until his balls are pressed into your chin. 
Clouds of lust obscure his gaze as it falls upon you. 
He caresses your face, dragging his cock out before pushing it inside your mouth again. Gurgled sounds leave your throat. Tears skip down your cheeks and you wonder when you’ve started crying. 
Fremen do not cry. Ever. Even for the dead. It is a rare, sacred act.
Paul wipes them off your face with his thumbs. 
“You love me. It is what lovers do,” he says matter-of-factly.
Your body relaxes. 
Right. Of course. You love him. It is what lovers do. 
You hollow your cheeks and suck him off. He unleashes a throaty sigh of delight as you pleasure him with your mouth. 
When his seed drips down your tongue, he coaxes you not to waste a single drop. You swallow all of it, showing no resistance when he nudges a stray drop between your wet lips. 
Several days in a row, you awake in the emperor’s chambers. At first, you experience great confusion. However, Paul’s soothing words always quell your rising panic. It becomes all you know. The Emperor’s mesmerizing voice. His large, soft bed. His ceaseless, ravenous touch. 
Sweaty, tangled limbs melting in lewd harmony.
You stop questioning it. Even the strange lapses of time when you are in one room and mysteriously wind up in another. It isn’t rare for you to wake up with the Emperor’s head bobbing between your thighs, greedily lapping at your folds, or with your hips grinding into his as he impales you on his cock. 
It is where you belong. And you believe him when he says that, mumbling loving promises into your ear in the dead of night.
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“If we do not strike fast and hard, they will not accept your rule,” Stilgar says. 
“They worship a false god. We are doing them a favor,” another man sitting at the table interjects. 
A shaky exhale flows from your tongue. You look around, dismay filling you when you realize you’re in Paul’s war room amidst a council meeting. Your head throbs. How did you get here?
You rise from your chair. Bemused gazes land on you. 
Princess Irulan snickers from her seat.
“Husband, your concubine is acting strange,” she sneers.
Concubine? You step away from the table.
You blink several times as you stumble outside. You grip your temples, your forehead scrunching. That cannot be right. Is it? 
You are no one’s concubine. 
You are…
You are…
Adrenaline pumps through your blood as your head buzzes. 
The answer will not come, your mind keeping it under firm lock and key.
Frustration mounts within you. You blindly waddle around.
You end up in a room that bears vague familiarity. You lean against a basin full of water. Water…just lying around. That seems strange.
Your eyes land on a mirror on the opposite wall. The reflection in the glass has your heart rate spiking. Who is this?
You bolt to your feet, the water in the basin splashing around your feet. 
Your tremulous fingers rise to your face, horror filling you when the woman in the mirror mimicks your exact motions. 
Your gaze travels across the wide, open space. Quick breaths rush from your throat. The Emperor’s room. Why did you think it was your room? 
You stagger backwards. You gasp as you bump into a solid form.
You whirl, eyes widening.
“Paul.”
He gauges you, slight concern etched in his blue eyes. Relief fills you as you soak in his boyish, slender features, much more familiar than those of the stranger in the mirror. 
You know Paul. Muad’Dib. Paul is familiar, safe. You trust him. He will tell you who you are.
“Yes, my love?”
“Paul, who am I?”
A displeased frown settles on his brow. He approaches you and grabs your face. His expression hardens.
“You are mine. Nothing else matters.”
“But Paul-”
Your protests are stifled by the feverish press of his lips on yours. A fog surrounds your thoughts as his kiss grows more passionate, his hands sweeping over your curves. You place your hand on his chest, pushing feebly.  
“Forget it. Forget it all, beloved,” he mumbles against your lips. You sag against him. You drown in Paul’s blue eyes, time stretching beyond eternity. 
When you gain a semblance of awareness, your naked form is writhing above Paul’s. Your palms are spread over his lithe muscles, your hips moving as he slams his cock into your cunt repetitively. Paul bites his lip, his gaze glued to the sight of his length disappearing between your wet folds. 
When did you get on the bed? When did you shed your clothes?
Every inquiry melts in the heat swirling across your damp flesh. 
Your lashes flutter as you unleash a broken whimper, Paul’s hard length touching you in places that send electricity rippling through your spine.
You tighten around him and he purrs. 
“Remember nothing but my name,” he rasps, clutching your hips possessively. He impales you on his length, thrusting faster. You choke on your breath, his quickening pace driving you wild.
You brace yourself on his chest and lose yourself in the pleasure, your breath hitching each time he pounds into you.
The filthy sounds of your coupling fill the room, bouncing off the stone walls. Paul’s deep, animalistic moans. Your soft, desperate whimpers. The blunt, wet sounds your cunt makes as he buries himself inside you. The bed rattling and squeaking under your writhing forms.
“Paul, Paul…” you pant as you bounce on his cock. An intensity ignites his eyes as his name falls from your tongue like a prayer. You toss your head back, voice dying in your throat as another wave of pleasure crashes over you. Your toes flex. You tremble, your body jolting as your slick walls flutter around his length. A husky moan leaves him. He twitches inside you. His back lifts from the sheets, his body tensing as he hits his peak too. Slick warmth spills from his tip, glazing your walls. 
An errant sliver of panic lurks inside your brain. Your eyes bulge as you glance down at where your body and Paul’s are conjoined. Rapid breaths burst from your chest.
Seeming to sense your distress, he shoves your hips back down when you try to squirm away.
His authoritative voice booms across the room, unnatural, multiplied. Everywhere at once. 
“Do not move, beloved. Let me fill you up. Make you mine in every way.”
Your breaths settle down. Your worries disappear. You look into Paul’s loving gaze. A smile unfans on his lips as you ride him with abandon again.
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“What are you doing?”
You pivot at the abrupt sound of Paul’s voice. You pause above the bag you’re packing. You peer at him, mulling over an appropriate answer to his question. You do not find one. You only know that you stirred awake that morning, feeling strange, sore…Lost. The urge to collect your meager belongings and leave the Arrakeen Keep seared inside you since then. A hollow, distant voice rings inside your head.
Return to Sietch Tabr.
“I have to go. Something…Something isn’t feeling right.”
The muscles of Paul’s jaw flare, his tone as ice as he states, “You want to leave me.”
Discarding your bag, you rush to him. You take his hands in yours.
“No. I made you a promise. I just need time to think…I can’t think anymore, Paul.”
It’s true. Every day feels like trudging through a Coriolis storm, your thoughts scattering as dust in the wind the minute they form.
Everything that was solid before is now sand slipping through your fingers.
Paul’s gaze corrals yours.
“You don’t need to,” he says, gripping your face. His tone dips to a soft lilt that penetrates your senses. “Who are you?”
You search his eyes. A breeze blows away every single doubt you had.
The answer to every inquiry you had is right there. In Paul’s fond stare.
The persistent little voice in your head, that pesky plea begging to be heard suddenly falls quiet. The truth echoes in your head, Paul’s powerful voice filling your mind.
You are right where you belong. 
“I’m yours,” you utter with certainty.
His face softens. “That is correct, my love,” he says, stroking your cheek.
“Now, why don’t you settle down, beloved?” You let him escort you to the bed, coaxing you to take a seat on the sheets. “Agitating yourself as such isn’t good for you.”
He sinks to the floor and drops a gentle kiss over your round belly.
“And it’s not good for the baby either.”
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ch3rriiii-bunn · 11 months
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Pretty thing♡
As a manga reader, tears started running down my legs when I saw haganezuka's face revealed 😍 here's some haganezuka smut for yall
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Warnings: fem!reader, reader is mentioned to be haganezuka's girlfriend, chubby/muscular reader, mention of stretch marks, smut, caught masturbating, virginity loss, love making to rough fucking, cervix fucking(?)
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"Y/n. Serious question. How did you even manage to catch haganezuka's eye?" One of the men asked at your table. "I have to know as well. I've never seen the man take any interest other than a sword. That and working out, " the other man said.
Even though those things were true for haganezuka, you couldn't help but laugh at how others can say that out loud. However, it was different for you. What caught his attention was that you are a woman. Not because he hasn't been around women or anything, but you are a woman who loves to create swords almost on the same level as him which is what caught his attention.
Haganezuka would mention how you were a distraction to his work since he said, "You're so beautiful when you create swords. i might just make a mistake with mine!" He basically confessed. He found you very attractive physically, too, with your pretty face and your chubby figure, but will maintain muscles in your arms from the sword making.
"Come now, even you can bond with the man if you spend time in his work shop and have a talk with him," you chuckled "nah I've done that. I straight up got ignored. " The other man sighed, and you laughed "he dose mean well. He takes great pride in his work, and I really admire that, and he still takes care of himself, which is good as well! Spending time with him in the work shop and getting to have him snuggled up with me at night after a longs day of work is all I need from him" you smiled and the men around you looked in aw at your wholesome words.
After lunch break, you headed back to the workshop. Before greeting your beloved boyfriend, you see him, Angerly packing some stuff up without his shirt on. You sighed and put your hand on your hip. "Let me guess. That Kamado boy broke his sword again, huh?" You chuckled. "I'm going to kill him! Dead! How dare he break MY sword! I'm going to throw his sister in the daylight for this!" He said and rushed out, stomping in anger.
You cleared your throat, making haganezuka stop, and then came back to you. He gave you a hug and then left. "I'll see you soon! Be safe!" You waved.
It's been hours now since he left. You've been in the shop finishing up the sword for three swordsmen and sighed in satisfaction. "Yes. Final sword for the day. For once, I'm happy to be finished, and I can rest now, " you said and sat down on your chair. You looked up at the ceiling. "He looked so handsome without his shirt on... really handsome, " you said, bitting your bottom lip with your legs starting to rub against each other.
You couldn't stop your dirty thoughts, and you didn't think you could make it home given your current state to take care of yourself. You went to wash your hands off and went back to your chair, pulling your pants down to rub at your clit over your panties. "haa... I wish he knew the things he did to me when he's shirtless like that.." Your head falls back, letting out soft moans. You felt yourself getting wet, feeling the wet spot already on your panties.
"Unbelievable!" Haganezuka yelled and kicked the door open. "y/n this child had the nerve to apologize after breaking... my..." haganezuka started to lose his train of words by seeing your back turned to him, sitting on the chair and your pants down to your ankles, making out what he just walked in on.
You gasped, holding your legs to your chest and resting your head on your knees to hide your shame. "I-... okay, listen - ahh, I can't explain myself! Just!!!" You choke onnyour words, not being able to explain yourself. "ok, go back outside, come back in. I'll be dressed, and you can pretend you didn't see anything, " you said.
Haganezuka just stood there for a few seconds before shutting the door. "Go back outside? Why? How come you're doing this without me?" He asked, almost mad and took his mask off. You turn your head looking at haganezuka, confused at his question, "I'm sorry... what do you mean?" You asked
"I'm your boyfriend. I should help you with this, right!? I have knowledge on what to do, " he said, coming closer to you, but you hide your face him, making him stop. "y-you don't "have" to. it's just... well... " You stopped once you felt two large hands caress your shoulders. "I didn't say that because I "should" help you. I said that because I want to damnit. How long have you done with when I'm not here?" He asked curiously but almost upset
"Just.. when I feel like it. Or when I have time to myself. Please don't be mad, I've never asked you because we are so busy with making swords and I know how much you dislike when people interpret your time making swords" you look back at him with puppy eyes. Haganezuka leans down and kisses your forehead. "I do hate it, but if it's my own girlfriend? I allow it... for 3 minutes, " he said, making you both laugh. "I'm serious though," he said in a serious tone. "I know you are" you smiled.
"Okay, cover up now. Let's go. " Haganezuka took his kimono off and put it on your legs, picking you up from the chair. You held onto him quickly. "You're an idiot for not coming to me sooner about this. However... I will take care of this since it's my fault for not noticing the pleasure you needed. It's your first time, so don't think we are doing something like this in my precious work shop, " he said, carrying you and walking out.
"we are having sex at our house!" He loudly announced. "Shut up!" You covered his mouth, almost fighting him. "What is wrong with you!? Don't say that out loud!!!!"
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Haganezuka had you on the bed underneath him, naked and kissing you more passionately than ever. Your hands grab on his broad back, feeling his muscles and his warm skin and feeling his tounge swirl sound yours in your mouth.
His hands grab your hips, fitting himself between your thighs to close the gap between the two of you. Haganezuka pulled back "is this okay?" He asked and you nodded, using your hands to cover your exposed boobs. He chuckles at your shynes. "Your body is beautiful. I love it, your stretch marks are very pretty too" he praises as his fingers touch your stretch marks, tracing them out and his fingers lightly touching your lower stomach making you tremble a little from the ticklish feeling "can I touch you more?"
He asked so sweetly, much sweeter than ever you just couldn't say no to him. You nodded, closing your eyes, feeling his lips press on your neck, giving your neck soft, gentle kisses. His fingers trail down to your bare pussy, rubbing your clit in a circular motion. "You're wet. Are you still wet because you couldn't finish when i walked in on you?" Haganezuka said, giving your neck love bites.
You could feel his smirk on your neck at the question he asked. You didn't answer and only turned your head away in embarrassment. "Don't say that," you whispered with soft whimpers getting hotter from his touch. "Fine. Don't answer, " he said, kissing down your neck to your collar bone, giving it love bites, and then getting to your nipple.
Haganezuka moved your hands out of the way to see your boobs. His face was flushed. He didn't know how he eles to appreciate your beautiful body with words and just took action and started to take your nipple in his mouth. "Haganezuka~" you moaned, feeling his warm wet tongue and lips wrap around your harden nipples
He kept eye contact with you. Whenever you wanted to look away, he used his teeth to bite on your nipple making you mewl. haganezuka's fingers moved down frkm your clit to your hole and put one finger in, moving it slowly. "H-haganezuka, please~" you begged, wanting more
"Have you forgotten patience?" he kisses your stomach. "I need to take my time with you. I can't do this right if I'm not focused, right?" he said, and you both chuckle since it's something he says when making swords perfectly, but he's trying to make you as comfortable with him in the moment as much as he can
Haganezuka kisses your inner thigh, holding onto your thighs. "Can you be patient for me?" He asked, looking at you with such lustful eyes. "Yes," you bit your lip with a shy smile. Haganezuka smirked "that's my girl" he stuck his tounge out, giving your pussy a long lick, tasting you and keeping his eyes focused on you.
Your back arches, and you gasp from the feeling. "Oh my gosh~" you whispered to yourself, grabbing onto the bed sheets as you kept feeling his long, wet licks on your pussy. You couldn't hold back your moans, your whimpers and your hips from bucking in his face when he starts to fuck on his clit. You felt haganezuka enter another finger inside, and you grab onto his hair, clenching on his fingers.
Haganezuka bottomed out, loving how your hips push your pussy onto his tounge and moaned from the feeling of you clenching on his fingers. He fucks his fingers into faster, now adding a third finger trying to find your g spot. Your body jolts when you feel his fingers hit your spot, grabbing onto his hair. "Right there! Right there, right there!" You whine, covering his fingers with your white fluids.
Haganezuka waited until he calmed down from your high and then pulled his fingers out. He watched as your pussy throbbed and gulped "y/n. I need you now, can I put it inside you now? he asked, almost desperate with heavy breathes with his hand over his pants and then started to take them off, exposing his cock with pre cum leaking from it.
Your eyes widen from the size. He was a good size in length but the thickness of his cock was much bigger then you expected even with his huge, musclar build. "Haganezuka.." you say opening your legs more and using your fingers to spread open your pussy "I need you so badly. Put it inside slowly, okay?" Looked at him.
"Y/n~" Haganezuka moaned your name sliding his thick cock between your wet folds and then pushes it inside you, slowly forcing it in "y-y/n~ haa fuck you're so tight". You let out a loud gasp, holding onto his biceps tightly "just a little more~" he moaned grabbing your legs to spread you out more to be fully inside you. "Are you okay?" Haganezuka asked
You nod quickly, bitting your lip whimpering softly being a full of his cock you his tip already poking at your spot. "Y-you can move now" you said. Haganezuka starts to thrust his hips slowly, breathing heavy and shuts his eyes with his brows frowned together to hold himself back. "You're so tight, so tight~ and we wet. You won't let me go with how hard your pussy is clinging onto me" he said, rubbing his thumb on your clit.
"F-fuuck~ ha-haganezuka. Go harder, go faster, " you whispers, wrapping your arms around his neck and wrapping your legs around his waist. "You sure? You want me to fuck you harder like this?" Haganezuka let's out broken moans as his hips snap, fucking you faster, bullying your cervix with his tip
You moaned, loudly almost screaming from how rough he got and pushing your leg back to your chest "you feels good. s-so good~ really good. Your moans sound so pretty" he said with broken moans "I'm gonna cum. Fuck I can feel how much wetter your getting, cum for me y/n" Haganezuka holds your boobs together and sucks on your nipples while snapping his hips harder and harder.
"Haganezuka~!" You whined as you tremble from your sensitive nipples being sucked and his tip repeatedly hitting your spot. You gripped onto the sheets, looking at him with teary eyes. "haganezuka!! I'm cumming I'm cumming!" Your head went back, moaning loudly creaming on his cock.
"Y/n" he moaned, his thrust getting more sloppy until he gasped, cumming a little inside you and pulling his cock out of you cumming the rest on your pussy "you were squeezing me so tightly I couldn't pull out in time. Sorry, " he said, looking at you concerned.
You shook your head, breathing heavy from your intense orgasm and weakly reached out to cup his handsome face. "Don't worry about it. I was hoping you'd cum inside me though" you grinned.
Haganezuka narrows his eyes and leans closer to your face. "we have all night, I'll fill you up as much as you'd like. My pretty girl"
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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months
Text
Damian thinking he can cure depression and all of your negative mindsets by letting you cuddle and hug Bat-Cow.
He’d personally drag you all the way to the barn and then promptly point towards the half-awake cow lounging in the farthest corner and with the straightest face he says;
‘Hug the cow y/n.’
You’re confused, you’re depressed and have told him so in confidence, and here he was demanding that you cuddle up to the bovine, who was staring at you both with their dark eyes.
‘Why?’ You’d ask, eyes never leaving the cow and Damian sighs impatiently. ‘It’ll cure your current aliment of depression.’ He says with such certainty that you almost believed him for a minute…almost.
‘Damian this is stupid, even for you-‘ however before you could finish your sentence, Damian was already pushing you from behind towards Bat-Cow, who only watched as you were positioned into their warm side, silently chewing before becoming disinterested and went back to resting their head on the floor.
Bat-cow didn’t smell the greatest but then again…they were a fucking cow but they were warm and fluffy and comfortable, so much so that you ended up cuddling further into them found yourself falling asleep almost instantaneously with a small smile on your lips. ‘Good Bat-Cow…’ you murmur sleepily as the bovine only huffs out hot air, unfazed at you cuddling them as everyone from Damian to even Jason had come once in a while to cuddle up into their side.
Damian made a satisfied noise and was about to leave when he noticed that there was a space big enough for him to slot himself against Bat-Cow also. He shifts he gazed all across the entire barn, making sure he wasn’t being observed somehow, before cuddling himself into the side of the large animal.
Damian wouldn’t find out until way later that he was indeed being observed as he chased after Tim throughout the manor, sword in hand.
Jason who loves to cuddle you as though it’s been forever since you last saw each other.
(It had been five minutes max, you needed to piss.)
He’d even make it his personal mission to carry you in his arms anywhere and everywhere he went in the apartment. He will not hear the cliche ‘I’m too heavy’ bullshit excuse, let him carry you in his arms damn it! He wants to hold you! Do not reject him this golden opportunity!
He doesn’t care if anyone like Bruce, Dick or Roy are present because if anything it shows them that he had someone in his life that he loved and adored more than anything. Roy/Dick -mainly Dick- may tease him to high heavens about it but Jason only shrugs it off and says albeit childishly: ‘well at least I have someone to hold onto every night unlike you dickhead.’ Before casually carrying you into the kitchen with him to grab a drink.
(Remember that ‘Gator needs his gat, you punk ass bitch.’ tiktok Trend where ppl picks up their friend? Yh that’s what goes on in my head when writing this.)
Jason fears as though he’s not spending enough time with you. Which is bullshit because this man spends every waking moment with you being cute and loving and just the absolute best in general.
He’s not use to the whole relationship thing and he’s overthinking everything he’s doing and worries that it might be the breaking limit for you. So all you got to do is hold his face in your hands, rest your head against his own and reassure him that he was spending more than enough time with you. It’ll probably won’t get rid of the notion that he wasn’t doing enough for you out of Jason’s head, but at least it was something that he could be reminded of when he was getting too lost in his thoughts.
He’s a worrywart and a big one at that, but as long as you keep being his anchor, keep being the reason his head feels a lot clearer and so on, then Jason will gradually come to learn that he never needs to worry about anything when you’re more than happy to keep reminding him that it’s okay to worry, and that he wasn’t being suffocating or otherwise.
Jason maybe physically imposing and intimidating to look at for some people but to you, he was like those badly stereotyped big dogs that are the biggest sweethearts. Dogs such as:
Rottweilers
XL bully dogs
Pit bull
Doberman Pinscher and more.
He’s a sweetheart who just looks intimidating, nothing more nothing less…unless you happen to be a criminal then Jason is anything but the word sweet or adorable as they’re getting their asses beaten.💀
Dick always asks you if you still love him after every minor inconvenience.
It doesn’t matter what happens or how it happens, he always give you those puppy dog eyes of his and pouts his lips. ‘Do you still love me?’
‘Dick we’ve been through this before, of course I love you.’ You’d reply.
‘But you looked really annoyed right now and I just wanted to know if you still like me enough to date me.’ He then says as he rests his head on your shoulder, pressing himself against your back.
You sighed before looking over at him and pressing a tender kiss to his cheek. ‘Does that clear everything up for you?’ You asked rhetorically as Dick beamed brightly and stole a kiss from your lips, reinvigorated. ‘Yep.’ He’d respond before moving on with the rest of his day.
If you were to accidentally forget to kiss him good morning or before you were leaving for work, Dick would take full offence as he places himself in front of the door, arms crossed and lips formed into that pout you were more then familiar with at this point. ‘You hate me.’
‘Dick I’m in a hurry!’ You cry, looking at the time.
‘And you forgot my good morning kisses!’ He’d cry back at you and you would be several minutes late to work, all because you were making up for the misses kisses. You hate Dick sometimes but you knew you couldn’t be mad at him for long when he’d smother in kisses upon arriving him from work, so you guessed he could be given a pass…just this once.
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angelltheninth · 3 months
Note
No cuz i've been have this thought of Mizu and reader getting into a fight and mizu being stubborn doesn't apologize and both of them ignore each other so reader sleeps away from Mizu that night and uh rest is your imagination sfw or nsfw is fine (Ofc you can ignore this request if you don't want to do it! and drink more water eat take rest treat yourself something you like <3)
Angst and smut and fluff all at once because that's the best combo.
Pairing: Mizu x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, established relationship, arguments, make up sex, kissing, fingering, possessive sex, marking, clit stimulation, touch-starved Mizu
A/N: Angst, smut and fluff are my specialty. If there was a diploma for it I would have it.
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Stubborn!Mizu is like an angry cat when she gets pissed off at you. She won't talk to you, she will look at you but she doesn't want to be touched by you unless she asks you to. Keep her distance from her until she calms down but you can talk to her all you want.
Stubborn!Mizu will walk a few feet behind you while you're fighting. Not in front because fighting or not she still wants to keep you safe, that won't change no matter how mad either of you get. Your safety will always be her number one priority.
Stubborn!Mizu still kisses you goodnight if the fight goes on for a few days. She misses you, she misses the feeling of your lips on hers. But she won't admit it because if she does she knows it will then lead into a whole discussion over the thing you've been fighting about and she's no ready for that yet.
Stubborn!Mizu asks to sleep next to you, for your safety and only that. Doesn't let you get a word in when you wake her up and she's half on top of you. She distracts you by starting to kiss and bite your neck, her hands pushing your clothes apart, and her own. No way is she talking about this, she will fuck this argument out instead.
Stubborn!Mizu would much rather the two of you fuck each other's brains out then admit she was wrong. A lot more enjoyable that way too if you ask her. You both get to feel good and she gets to keep her pride.
Stubborn!Mizu is very rough with you when having make up sex. Her fingers are already rough on your clit because her sword-training and constant fighting but the rough pace doesn't help either. She makes you so sensitive so quickly, it's a mix of her roughness and how much missed her touch over these past few days.
Stubborn!Mizu knows that through these days she hadn't touched each other a lot of frustration build up. Neither of you had any sort of release either. So you're both extra sensitive right now, it won't take much for either of you.
Stubborn!Mizu loves knowing that even when you're fighting you still wait for her to bring you pleasure and vice versa. The fact that you're both still a little angry, a little rough, with you pushing her hips against your leg and her being absolutely merciless in the way she rubs your clit it's only a short matter of time before one of you orgasms. Only question is who will do it first.
Stubborn!Mizu doesn't want to finish first, you know she doesn't, which makes it even more satisfying when you deliberately press your thigh harder against her and feel her shake on top of you. To wipe that smirk of your face she kisses you while pushing two fingers inside you and pumping them quickly in and out. It was so easy, you were practically over the edge already.
Stubborn!Mizu gets very smug when she feels you come around her fingers. She knows that you'll never turn to anyone else for things like these, that this is an experience to be shared only between the two of you and no one else.
Stubborn!Mizu is finally ready to talk to you properly. That is you'll be so kind as to hold her and run your fingers through her hair as she tells you she's sorry for blowing up on you like that. You were worried for you, and had a right to be. She's not used to that, but with you she hopes she will be.
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angelic-muse · 6 months
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unforgettable
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a/n: i couldn't not write anything for his special day, so enjoy, and happiest of birthdays to my silly mosshead man. this was written with both anime and opla zoro in mind so feel free to interpret it as either.
pairing: roronoa zoro x gn!reader
warnings: just fluff, not proofread
summary: it's your lover's birthday, and what better way to start the celebration than to stay awake and surprise him at midnight?
...that is, if you can stay awake.
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must stay awake... must stay awake.
the sentence replayed itself in your groggy head like a mantra, a broken record stuck on repeat, a toy train running in slow circles around your brain as you fought the urge to tip over the line between wakefulness and sleep.
zoro deserved more than that.
"my birthday? never really done anything for it," he'd grunted the day before after you'd brought it up. the swordsman had frowned, scratched his head. "kinda forgot it was tomorrow, actually."
and it was then that you decided to make this birthday — and all his next ones, for that matter — unforgettable.
so after some pleading with nami that then lead to careful rearrangement of night watch schedules (despite the crew's grumbling), zoro would be set to finish his shift at midnight — exactly midnight.
and what would he find when he returned to his room? you, of course, waiting for the moment he stepped through the door to shower him in love and birthday wishes, followed by a day of celebrations just for him.
well, that was your plan.
but the actual staying awake hadn't been part of it.
since your shift for night watch was the last one, just before sunrise, you were lucky enough to be able to sleep soundly all night till then. which meant you were not at all used to being awake at this time and your body was slowly but surely losing the fight to fall unconscious.
you yawned, blinking heavy eyelids as you turned to squint at the sky, the gentle moonlight washing the deck of the going merry in its milky glow. it wasn't quite yet at its highest point — still not midnight.
surely a little lay down before zoro returned couldn't hurt, right?
don't fall asleep, you promised yourself one last time as you settled into his own hammock, breathing in the lingering scent of him with a sigh. don't fall asleep...
zoro muttered angrily as he stomped across the ship back to his room, not bothering to soften the loud thumping of his boots against the planks, swords clanking noisily at his hip.
"serves 'em right if they wake up," he groused, "putting me up there at this time all of a sudden for no fuckin' reason—"
he cut short as he shoved into his room, raising a brow at the sight that met him as he rid himself of swords and shirt. there you were, curled up in his spot, sleeping soundly like a contented cat.
"the hell you doing in my hammock?" he grumbled under his breath, but zoro slid in beside you anyways, throwing an arm over your shoulders and folding the other behind his head. he didn't mind that you were here — he never did. sleeping beside you was nothing out of the ordinary anymore. he liked it, enjoyed the easy comfort and security that came with you tucked against his side; hearts beating in time, every breath shared.
it was right when zoro was beginning to drift off that he felt you stir awake. cracking open one eye, he watched as you sat up, blinking tiredly. "zo... zoro?"
"what got you up?" he murmured as you yawned and stretched your arms overheard. "m'here, get back to sleep." get back to cuddling me.
"the smell of a pirate who hasn't showered in a week," you joked groggily, rubbing at your eyes. then you froze. shit.
shit!
"no, i fell asleep!" you groaned, burying your face in your hands. how could you? you promised yourself you wouldn't, for him, and now... "fuck, fuck fuck fuck fuck... i'm sorry." you peeked back up at him, lower lip stuck out.
zoro frowned. "huh? what the hell you apologising for?"
"i was meant to stay up," you said sadly. "to say happy birthday to you. at midnight. that's why i got nami to change your watch..."
rubbing a hand across his face, zoro sat up to look at you properly, blinking sleep away. you went to the trouble of getting his night watch changed and stayed up in his room just to say happy birthday to him? seriously?
he'd be surprised, but really, that was just the kind of stupid, endearing thing you'd do.
and so he laughed.
you blinked at him as his wide shoulders shook with mirth, head tossed back. an embarrassed warmth crept up your neck and you folded your arms, attempting to glare at him even as you fought to hold down a smile. "wh— it's not funny!"
"nah," he grinned at you as his laughter died down. "it's just cute. c'mere."
you yelped in half-protest as zoro grabbed your head to pull into his chest, laying back down with a sigh.
"you don't hafta... stay up until midnight or do shit like that just for me." he uttered after a moment of quiet, brushing his fingers through your hair. "you need your sleep, and i need mine. so just... just wait until morning next year, yeah?"
"i... okay," you sighed, trailing a finger across his chest, drawing mindless patterns over scarred, tawny skin, making him suppress a shiver. "i still have stuff planned for later, though."
"yeah? let's hear it."
"i'm not ruining the surprise, silly. but... i did get you some presents and convinced sanji to bake you a cake. among other things."
zoro snorted. "bet that shitty cook did it for you more than me."
"probably," you teased, tilting your head to look up at him. "don't get jealous that he might love me more than you, it's okay."
the swordsman scoffed, turning you both on your sides with a grunt. "maybe, but he'll never love you as much as i do."
you chuckled, tucking your head into the crook of his neck, inhaling his familiar scent; steel and sweat with an earthier undertone somewhere beneath. "i love you too, even though you still smell like you've never showered."
zoro barked out a laugh, tightening a thick arm around your waist to pull you further into him. "i'll take a shower for your birthday, how's that sound?"
you peered up at him and wrinkled your nose. he grinned.
"you're gross," you muttered with a smile even as you snuggled further into him. he kissed your forehead and you could feel his own smile against your skin.
"and you still love me."
"lucky you, huh?"
zoro exhaled softly, closing his eyes. "yeah, lucky me."
slowly, quiet draped itself over the two of you like the softest blanket, comforting and warm as the sounds of your breathing lulled each other to sleep after gentle whispers of goodnight and wishes of good dreams. and he rocked you in his arms, like how the gentle waves rocked you from below, mother nature's cradle for her sleeping children as they rested in an embrace so tightly woven with nothing but pure love not even the sharpest sword could ever hope to sever it.
and that morning, when zoro awoke to his dear lover smothering his face with kisses as they pulled him from his sleep with the promise of birthday gifts, he knew with clarity, such a deep, resounding clarity it made his heart ache—
that you, on this day and every other, were the greatest gift he could ever ask for.
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nia's ask box is open!
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bimb0fy · 30 days
Text
— 03; i watched you change
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pairings; luke castellan x hephaestus!reader
warnings; kissing, angst at the end, dark!luke, choking, mentions of swords, swearing, violent tendencies.
summary; luke castellan was always a saint, it was a wonder how he would date a hephaestus girl over the dozens of aphrodite girls wrapped around his finger, he saw you, and he loved you for it. you'd be an idiot if you said you didn't love him to, but something was going on, he was. changing.
word count; 2.07k words.
a/n; a part is kinda inspired by that one scene of nate jacobs and maddie perez, yes the one where he choked her, also I am on my last stray since I finished, then tumble deleted the whole thing which I loved, alsooo uh sorry for the late upload i had so many exams :((.
masterlist!! | navigation!!
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i. I love everything you do, when you call me fucking dumb for the stupid shit I do.
— high-school sweethearts, melanie martinez.
You smiled as you sat down at the breakfast table, your hair in a bun and your were still in your pj's. It was your day off so you decided to take breakfast, then snuggle up to your new boyfriend's, Luke, cabin.
"Hey mender." Luke said as he sat down beside you, kissing your cheek as you smiled, you took a bite of your mac and cheese, Luke's hand wrapped around you.
"So, tell me, how's the best swordsman at camp huh?" You joked as he smiled. You both took your scraps, placing it into the fire before walking off back to the hermes cabin.
Even though most of the Campers lived in the hermes cabin, it somehow was always empty during the morning, most people going back during either lunch or at the end of the day.
So here you were, on the bed with Luke's mouth latched onto your neck.
Ever since that night, Luke was addicted to you, the way you tasted, the sweet noises that erupted your mouth whenever he touched that one spot on your skin.
"Luke. You'll make marks!" You giggled as he laughed, slowly raises his head to look at you.
"Too late baby." He winked before rasing your shirt, pressing soft kisses to your stomach as you laughed. You playfully shoved him as he smiled, looking up and laying down beside you, moving his hand so you'd lay on his chest. "Fine. You win mender."
"No way, I beat the Luke Castellan?" You teased as he rolled his eyes, placing a soft kiss to your forhead before taking out a scrap book you had made and a Polaroid.
"Cmon let's get your first win into our amazing book of memories." He snaped a picture as you giggled, he smiled at the picture as he glued it on.
Her first win!!
Luke castellan gets beat up by a woman half his size. NOT CLICKBATE. CANON EVENT!!
Baby wtf.
Luke closes the book, taking the pen and placing it on top of the book as he turned back to face you. He watched as you traced soft patterns onto his hand. "I love everything you do. You're mine, and I love that."
He pushed your hair to the side to see your giggling face. You couldn't help but smile, kissing his lips. "I'm all yours."
He grabbed your waist, pushing you down onto the mattress as you groaned. "Luke-. I have to go to work."
"And suddenly my names work." He jokes as he hugged your waist, placing soft kisses onto your neck. You giggled before wrapping your arms around the boy. "You mean the world to me. You know that right?"
"I know luke. I know." You whispered as you played with his hair. You sat in silence, playing with his hair as he closed his eyes, falling asleep on your chest. "Ten minutes."
Luke smiled at your words as he hugged you tighter. "Thirty and you got yourself a deal."
ii. just trust me, you'll be fine.
— end of beginning, djo
Chris smiled as he passed by you. It was weird being the center of attention now, everyone needed to figure out the hot gossip about Luke Castellan's new girlfriend, and to their shock, she wasn't an aphrodite girl.
Everyone knew that Hephaestus' daughters were rather, boyish, only because there were very little, being surrounded by men in a job that most people would assume a man to do was well, difficult.
Luke saw you. He saw who you were. Not what your sibling saw, not what camp saw. He saw what he wanted to see, and that was all of you.
You sat down by the docks, the same docks of that night. You two would always meet up there to catch up and spend time together, but here you were, an hour later still sitting alone on the dock.
You started to give up, standing up to walk away but you heard Luke's faint calls. You turned around to find a man you almost didn't recognise.
The once shining Luke had eyebags under his eyes that were bigger than yours. He was wearing sweatpants and a tank top, yet you could see tracs of sweat around it. He wasn't out of breath so he hadn't ran, maybe he did, what was going on?
"Luke? Heavens have you been sleeping?" You asked him as he held your hands away from his face. He gave he a small smile.
"I'm fine." He rasped. You shook your head, holding onto his cheek as you looked at him. "Don't."
"Luke." you scoffed as he shoved your arms off of him. You had a pained expression on your face, hugging yourself with your jacket as you looked at him. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before walking towards you, placing his hands onto your shoulders.
"I'm sorry I'm just, really tired." Luke muttered before hugging you. "And I'm sorry I was late, I uh, took a nap after training and lost track of time I suppose."
You hugged back, he quickly carried you which caused you to squeal as he set you down onto the dock. He smiled as he sat down in front of you, the picnic basket empty as he chuckled. "Someone was hungry."
"And someone was late." You giggled as he dramatically rolled his eyes, he smiled before taking your hand in his, looking out to the lake, clearly thinking about something. "Are you okay Luke?"
You waited for a response but he just stared out. You were starting to get worried, what the hell was going on? "Luke?"
"hm?" He said as he turned back to you. You could feel his arms tense around you, his breath hitched as you said his name. You needed to know what was going on.
"You know you can talk to me. Right baby?" You asked the boy who kissed your cheek before turning to the soft waves.
You didn't understand why he was keeping secrets from you, were you that bad? Were you not as supporting as you thought you were?
"I know mender. I know." He whispered in your ear as you melted into his grasp. A smile on your face.
He's fine, he says he's fine so he has to be. Right?
iii. Was it my August? Shit, I don't remember
— Gone gone/thank you, Tyler the creator.
"Where is he?" You asked Chris as he sat quietly, playing with his food. You glared at him, leaning onto the table as you glared at him, your eyes glowing orange, fire swimming in them.
Luke had been ignoring you for two weeks now, you had no clue if it was because you did something wrong, and if you did, you wanted to solve it.
That was until Max, your brother, had told you that he was giving Stacy Evans, aphrodite's prettiest daughter, extra sword fighting lessons.
"Hermes cabin bathroom." Chris muttered as you hummed in approval, walking off to find Luke.
Ever since your last interaction on the beach, you haven't seen him. Some would say you were worried, and if the right person asked, you were worried.
Little did you know, that Luke wasn't running from you. He was protecting you. From himself.
He did know how, how the he'll could everything about you agitate him. He hated it, he hated how every time he heard your name, he wanted to punch someone.
He hated how whenever he saw you laughing with your brothers, he wanted to smash your head against the wall, he wanted to hurt you.
He didn't know why. Why you out of everyone. You were a Saint, you were perfect to him, perfect for him. Suddenly, without warning now he's ignoring you.
You loved Luke, and Luke loved you, but now. Even at the mention of you, he wanted to stab you with his sword and watch you bleed.
You knocked on the door, hearing shuffling as you waited for him. Your eyes widened as you heard muttering coming from the other end of the door.
You barged in, finding Luke huddled up over the sink, clearly irritated by you. You glanced at the sword on the bathroom counter.
"What the fuck is wrong with you mender! You can't just barge into the men's bathroom." He spat out as you scoffed, you locked the door, walking towards him.
"What the fuck is wrong with me? What's wrong with you?!" You spat out as he let out an agitated sigh, clutching the sinks frame as his eye twitched. You shoved him to look at you, his breathe staggering as he stared at you.
"You know you're a real shit boyfriend you know! Missing out breakfast because im there, wow I mean. Master of communi-fucking-cation right!" You laughed as you watched his reaction. His eye twitched more, his mouth agap as he panted, he was controlling himself. He was on his last straw.
He wasn't even listening to what you were saying now. He was just trying to keep his thoughts at bay, he couldn't hurt you. If je hurts you, it was over.
"You really are your father's son huh?!" You spat out, that was all it took for him to lose his sense of control. He grabbed you by the throat, shoving you into the wall as he smashed your head against the wall, before wrapping his hand around your neck again.
He lifted you up, you kicked your feet as you tried to pry him off, stopping as he shoves you against the wall again, clearly agitated by the fact that you tried to pry him off.
"What the fuck is wrong with you. Don't you ever say that again you little bitch." He Luke spat. An evil laugh escaped his lips as he leaned in to face you. "You really are a pathetic whore huh. No wonder your mom left you."
Soft cries left your lips as he tightened his grip around your throat. You started to feel nauseous as you found it harder to breathe. Clawing at his hands.
"L...Luke..." You struggled under him, even though he was two times your size, even though you had no chance against him. You watched as the darkness in his eyes was replaced by realisation.
He let go, allowing you to fall on your knees as you sobbed and panted. The air suddenly returning to your lungs. Luke hovered over you, panting as he realised who was on her knees before him.
"Y/n." He breathed out, you shook your head at the mention of your name. He sighed grabbing a rag and before wetting it and holding it out for you.
You took it, holding it against the bruises that already formed.
He did it, he hurt you and he wanted to kill himself right at that moment.
"Mender. I... I." He didn't know what to say. You kept your gaze onto the floor as you cried. Unsure of what to do, what to say, as you rubbed the bruises. "Listen, I know you want to run of to Chiron and-."
"I won't. Don't worry." Your voice cracked as you looked up at him, standing up and walking to the door. But Luke's voice stopped you.
"Why?" Luke asked you as you shrugged. You hovered over the doorknob, sighing as you opened the door, leaving Luke alone in the bathroom.
He glanced at his hands, sobbing as he fell to his knees, he hurt you. He hurt you. He did the one thing he was afraid to do. The voices in his head won, he had lost you, the only thing that mattered to him.
He was weak, he allowed him to hurt you, he allowed this to happen. You were the best thing to ever happen to him, and somehow he messed it up.
You were special, not like the aphrodite girls who only cared about looks and who hooked up with who, most people saw him as Luke Castellan, most popular guy at camp.
In your eyes, he was Luke Castellan, another mediocre privileged guy, but he was yours, and you loved him for the good and bad in him.
Don't cry my child, it'll be over soon.
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hellodarling1357 · 2 months
Text
Tiny Toes: Part 6.4 - Cassian x Reader
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This went in a completely different direction to what I had planned and basically wrote itself so buckle up for a whole heap of tooth-rotting fluff 🥰
Summary: Birthday Parties + Forgotten Conversations + Family Time
Word Count: 2.6k
You can read the previous part here
It was the day after Ottie’s 3rd birthday party and the three of you were currently sprawled across the living room floor eating left over birthday cake as Ottie lined up all of her presents and did a show-and-tell for you and Cassian.
“This one is from Auntie Elain,” she picked up the beginners gardening set, making sure you both got a good look before putting it down and turning to the next present. “And this is from Uncle Az,” next was a tiny set of Illyrian leathers and a wooden toy sword that was almost an exact replica of Truth Teller, it had left Ottie squealing in excitement upon opening it.
“You are one spoiled little girl, Otts.” Cassian says as he takes in the massive pile of gifts beside her once she had finished going through all of them for the second time that morning, “where are we even going to put all of this?” Ottie just grins at him and nods, yes, she definitely knows how loved she is; Hells, you had even woken up the morning of her birthday to a small bundle of gifts by the front gate that citizens of Velaris had left out for her.
With a sigh you sat up, placing a hand on Cassian’s stretched out leg as you took in the pile of presents and plates littered with cake crumbs.
“How about some actual food?”
Ottie let out a groan, “but there’s still cake that needs to be eaten, it’ll get sad if it’s not in our tummies.”
With a deep chuckle, Cassian pulled himself up to sit beside you, absentmindedly wrapping an arm around your waist as he nudged your foot with his own. “How about we make something really yummy while you play with your new toys, then once we’ve finished eating, we can have more cake?”
With a sceptical look between the two of you, Ottie agreed and was then preoccupied once more as she made her way over to her new paint set that Feyre had gifted her. After a loud groan followed by a stretch as he got to his feet, Cassian stuck out a hand to help pull you off the ground and was then coming up behind you, arms wrapping around your front as you walked into the kitchen together.
“Hi,” he murmured against your ear, keeping his body pressed against your back as you looked around the pantry in search of some food that consisted of some form of nutrients. You hummed in response, turning around and leaning up on your toes to pull him in closer for a kiss.
“Hi,” you repeated against his lips, smiling as his arms wrapped tightly around you.
“I’ve missed you…” he whispered, leaning down to trail kisses along your jaw then down your neck.
“I’ve missed you too, which is crazy because we’ve been together constantly the past few days.”
“Not quite the same though, is it? Not with the house being overrun by overbearing family members and small children everywhere. This is the first we’ve been alone since before Ottie’s birthday, seeing that she managed to convince us into letting her sleep in our bed to make her birthday even more special.” Cassian said with a roll of his eyes, fully aware of the manipulation tactics his daughter was prepared to use against him in order to get her way.
“Not really,” you mused purely to tease him, “we were alone last night.”
A nip to your ear told you he wasn’t impressed. “Doesn’t count. We both passed out straight away, didn’t even have the energy to get a cuddle in before we fell asleep.”
“What a travesty.” You said distractedly as you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck and pulled his lips back down to slant over yours, letting out a small moan as Cassian backed you into the counter.
“You know,” he whispered against your lips, breath fanning out across your skin, “she’s currently distracted by her ridiculous mountain of presents, we could sneak upstairs for a few moments…”
You grinned in response, letting out a small shriek when he lifted you up, tapping your thighs to prompt you into wrapping your legs around his waist as he reattached his lips to your neck. With near-silent giggles, you clung to Cassian as he quietly made his way towards the stairs, getting three steps up before…
“Daddy?” Ottie’s voice called out from the living room, causing Cassian to let out a frustrated sigh as you dropped your head to his shoulder. “What’s your favourite colour?”
You stifled a laugh as Cassian looked at you, eyes laced with longing despite the perplexed expression on his face. “Umm, green?” he answered, not quite processing his words as the touch of your lips traced along his jaw and your fingers tugged through the hair at the back of his neck.
“Thank you.” Cassian waited a few seconds to see if Ottie would say anything else before raising his eyebrows at you and continuing up the flight of stairs. You managed to get up all of four steps when her voice rang out again.
“Mummy?”
You felt your eyes widen as you let out a shocked splutter, looking to Cassian who seemed to be holding in a laugh at your reaction.
“Mummy?” Ottie called out again, this time in a more demanding tone.
At Cassian’s shrug of indifference, you took in a deep breath before calling back down the stairs to her, patting Cassian’s arm for him to put you back down on the ground.
“Yes, Ottie?” you hesitantly replied, eyes not leaving Cassian’s as he stared back at you, a soft expression crossing his features.
“What’s your favourite colour?”
“Blue.”
“Thank you. Don’t come back until I say you can, it’s a surprise.” She demanded, followed by the sound of the living room door slamming shut.
“What…?” You quietly ask Cassian as he took your hand and led you up the stairs and into your bedroom. After shutting the door behind him, Cassian joined you on the bed and leant against the headboard, the comforting and familiar weight of his arm wrapping around your shoulders had you snuggling in closer to his side. “Mummy? She called my mummy.”
“She did.”
“You don’t seem surprised by it.”
“I was going to mention something the other day but…” he trailed off, glancing at you with a guilt-ridden expression.
“But what?” you deadpanned, sitting up and eyeing Cassian as he averted his gaze.
“I forgot?”
“You forgot? How did you forget? This is huge. Okay, what happened?” you asked excitedly. The two of you had discussed Ottie calling you mum a couple of months ago after an elderly couple had stopped you in the street to talk about what a good parent you were to the little Illyrian. Ultimately, you had both decided to let Ottie steer the situation; when she decided to start calling you mum, if she even wanted to, would be entirely up to her.
“She mentioned something about it the other night when I was putting her to bed,” was the vague answer Cassian gave you, seemingly deciding it wasn’t important enough as taking advantage of a distracted child and an empty bedroom.
“Cassian!” You exclaimed, pulling his head up and away from your neck as you shrugged out of his embrace and fixed him with a look that said nothing would be happening until he talked.
“Ugh, alright. The other night – look, do you really want to talk about this now when she’s distracted, and we’ve got–”
“Cassian…” you repeated, holding back a smile as he threw his head back with a groan.
“Okay, okay. The other night I was tucking her in, and she was all quiet so I asked if something was wrong and she said she wasn’t sure, so I asked again and she said she had been thinking a lot lately but got all hesitant,” Cassian looked at you, a soft smile on his face, “then she asked if it really mattered that you didn’t have her in your tummy before she was born.”
“Oh,” was all you could bring yourself to say, mind going blank as you processed what Cassian had told you and what had been running through Ottie’s mind.
Cassian pressed a kiss to your temple as he took both of your hands in his. “And then,” he continued, giving your hands a squeeze, “when I asked her if it mattered to her, she said, and I quote, no I don’t think it does because I want her to be my mummy and I love her and I know she loves me, or something like that anyway. We chatted a bit more then when I was about to leave she asked me if I thought you would mind if she started calling you mummy.”
You looked at Cassian through tears. “And?” you promoted when he remained silent.
“And,” he gave you a nudge at your impatience, “I told her that you would love it if she started calling you mummy. Y/N, you should have seen the way her face lit up…”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. She was even more ecstatic to hear that than when she unwrapped Az’s birthday present.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me any of this when it happened?”
“Like I said, I forgot.”
“You’re hopeless, you’re also a terrible storyteller…”
“Yeah, yeah. Can we get back to us now? Please?”
With a content sigh you wrap your arms back around Cassian’s neck and climb into his lap, slanting your lips over his as you try to fight back your tears. He pulls you down with him as he leans back against the pillows, arms coming up to wrap around your waist.
“You alright?” he breaks the kiss, letting out a laugh when you nod your response with a small sniff. “You sure? Because you’re currently crying while I kiss you and that’s not the greatest thing for my confidence…”
You laugh as you softly whack him, face lighting up when you see the look in his eyes and the love-filled smile on his face as he watched you from against the pillow. The emotion in that look sent you even further over the edge, a fresh wave of tears welling in your eyes that had Cassian sitting back up with you in concern.
“Y/N?”
“No, I’m fine,” you laugh despite the tears running down your face. “Really, I am. I promise. It’s just Ottie and you and… oh gods.”
Cassian lifts up a hand to wipe away your tears, fixing you with a look of concerned bemusement as you laugh and cry. “Sorry,” you sniff, taking in a deep breath and smiling when Cassian shakes his head to dismiss your pointless apology. “Sorry. Okay, I’m good. It’s just the two of you make me so happy and, you know, a few years ago I never thought I would have something like this and now… Did I ever tell you I almost said no when Elain asked if I would babysit her niece? I don’t even want to think where I would be right now if I hadn’t agreed to.”
Cassian remained silent as he gently cupped your face, thumbs swiping across your cheeks to wipe away the last of your tears before he pulled you into a soft kiss that had you melting against him.
“We would have found each other.”
“Hmm?” You murmured, pouting when Cassian pulled away from you.
With a smile he let his thumb trace over your lips. “We would have found each other,” he repeated, kissing you once more. “If you had told Elain no, I truly believe that eventually our paths would have crossed. Either way we were going to end up here one day.”
You blinked at him, letting the words sink in as your heart filled with such an overwhelming feeling of love. If you let yourself speak, to reply to his words with your own, you knew you would turn into a blubbering mess again. So, instead you pressed your lips to his once more, hoping to convey everything you were currently feeling as you let Cassian lay you down against the mattress, limbs intertwining as he crawled over you, not once removing his lips from yours.
*****
You and Cassian managed to steal an entire hour for yourselves, filling it with soft moans and breathless whispers against sweaty skin as you allowed the overwhelming emotions surging through you to be expressed in the most physical and intimate of ways.
A comfortable silence settled throughout your bedroom as you slowly got dressed, no words were needed in the wake of what you had just shared. Still, the need to be close, to be touching in some way, persevered through the silence as Cassian laced his fingers through yours, bringing your hand up to his lips as you made your way back downstairs. The living room door was still closed, the sound of Ottie contentedly humming to herself had you both leaving her to her own devices.
“We should probably put something together for dinner.” you said, voice barely above a whisper as though not wanting to break the trance you still found yourself in.
“Probably,” was all Cassian said in response as he leant down to kiss you again before leading you into the kitchen.
You sat at the kitchen bench, watching as Cassian looked through the pantry and cupboards, pulling out ingredients as he quietly hummed to himself; you noted, with a smile, that it was the same tune Ottie had been humming.
Pulling yourself out of the seat, you walked around the bench and picked out a bottle of wine, pressing a kiss to Cassian’s cheek as you stood next to him and poured out two glasses while he chopped up the vegetables, bumping his hip into yours as he worked.
“What do you need me to do?”
Cassian looked at you then leant down to steal a quick kiss before saying with a wink, “just sit there and look pretty for me, sweetheart.” You rolled your eyes but sat back in your seat, content in watching him cook as he told you about his and Azriel’s plans for the new intake of Valkyries.
The shuffle of small footsteps across the floorboards had you both looking up to find Ottie walking through the doorway, a piece of paper clasped tightly in her hands.
“Hi, daddy.”
“Hi, princess,” Cassian greeted. Ottie smiled at him then turned to you, lifting her arms for you to pick her up and place her on your lap.
“Hi…” she trailed off, her expression momentarily turning into one of uncertainty as she intensely studied your face. Offering her a smile, you watched as Ottie visibly relaxed against you before saying, almost shyly, “hi, mummy.”
“Hi, sweetheart,” your heart was pounding in your chest as you kissed her cheek, watching with utter delight as her face lit up at your response. “What have you got there?” you asked with a nod towards the piece of paper she was holding.
“Oh!” she exclaims as she shifts in your lap, “I’ve been painting.”
You glance up to where Cassian is standing, only to find him already watching the two of you with a look of complete adoration.
“I love you,” he silently mouths the words to you with a wink when he catches you watching him.
“I love you too” you mouth back before shifting your attention to Ottie and the painting she set atop the kitchen bench of three figures labelled ‘mummy, daddy and Ottie’.
*****
Tag List: @mis-lil-red @sarawritestories @beardburnsupersoldiers @eve175 @blushingfawnsposts @turtleshavesoulmates @slytherinindisguise @sleepylunarwolf @starryhiraeth @tele86 @azrielsmate3 @anuttellaa @purple-haired-faerie @lilac-witch @cassianstannn32 @littlelunatica @nighttimemoonlover @azrielsmate3 @fxckmiup @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @talesofadragon @natashachelsea
Let me know if you want to be added! 🥰
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cocoacat323 · 5 months
Text
Scum Villian Fic Recs
So, I've been reading fanfiction for a long ass time, longer than I've been on Tumblr and have always loved fic recs, and now I realize I can make my own(yay!), so here it is. None of these are explicit or anything, but they are super good.
A Transmigrator and a Time Traveler Walk Into The Bamboo House Summary:
Over a year after Shen Qingqiu's death, Luo Binghe consults his servant's servant, concurrently his disgraced martial uncle, for a way to bring the love of his life back. Shang Qinghua sends him in the direction of a certain time-traveling artifact, which supposedly brings one to the day they first met their soulmate. Odd, though, that the artifact ends up missing the destination by just a few years…
A story in which post-Abyss Luo Binghe relives his disciple days, while juggling his secrets, traumas, and some unexpected revelations about the man he loves on top of that.
Unveiling The Imposter Summary:
While tracking a suspicious fortune-teller, Shen Qingqiu falls unconscious. The fortune-teller extracts a glowing orb from his body, telling Luo Binghe and Liu Qingge that this Shen Qingqiu is an imposter, and they can see for themselves if they don't believe it.
Alternatively, the Demon Lord and Peak Lords watch Scum-Villain's Self-Saving System.
Characters Watch the Series fanfic. Post-Canon.
High Mountain, How I Long Summary: Shen Qingqiu, after enduring his trial, is placed into Luo Binghe’s custody at Huan Hua Palace.
meta madness Summary: Looking at SVSSS through the eyes of the universe left behind when Airplane and Cucumber died. (Note: Not a fic, but a series, but every fic in it is so good so definitely check it out.)
it's only shameless if you had any shame to loose in the first place Summary: They have not told anyone about their marriage, and at Shen Qingqiu's request, they will only do so once the wedding preparations are done. No one will have time to nag!
But in the meantime, Luo Binghe, demonic lord or not, is only an alpha. He must do something to show off his claim or he'll go insane, he really will. He'll qi deviate terribly, see if he won't.
Fortunately, as thin-faced as he is, his Shizun does not care much for proper dynamic etiquette...
love's worth running to Summary: “Shizun,” he purred, darkly calm despite the anger oozing out of his mock-respectful smile. Luo Binghe's grip on Xiu Ya's blade tightened, and he realised with belated horror that his blood was running down the sword and dripping by Shen Qingqiu's feet. His sword had to be held at an upwards angle now, to reach the place where he pierced him back then.
Shen Qingqiu felt sick. There was something wrong in this dream.
“I ask you again. Do you regret it, Shizun?”
//
Shen Qingqiu can't answer whether he regrets betraying him. Luo Binghe wants his Shizun to understand how he suffered, and drags Shen Qingqiu into his dreamscape of the Endless Abyss that night.
The only problem: Shen Qingqiu isn't waking up.
We Are Not Wise Summary:
When Shen Qingqiu drew Shen Yuan’s soul sword, it felt like being burned from the inside out. The fire wasn’t cruel, but it was still fire—hot and destructive, searing the softest pieces of him.
When Binghe’s fingers touch the hilt, he is ready for pain.
Transmigrated into a version of Proud Immortal Demon Way where cultivators manifest their own souls into spiritual weapons, Shen Yuan finds himself sort of kind of…accidentally blackmailing Shen Qingqiu into taking him on as a disciple before Luo Binghe joins the sect.
That should give Shen Yuan plenty of opportunities to make sure nothing goes wrong for his favorite protagonist, right? RIGHT!?
A story of twists, turns, hope, despair, and soul swords. Written for the Bingqiu Reverse Minibang 2023, illustrated and conceptualized by the incredible Suzu!
The Cultivating Force Summary: In which a Master and a Padawan run into a Shizun and a... Sith?
and judgement is just like a cup that we share Summary: The blob finished rotating into place in a way that wasn’t quite compatible with geometry as Shen Qingqiu understood it, and cleared a throat it didn’t seem to have.
“Greetings,” it said, somehow clearly addressing him in particular more than the room as a whole despite its total lack of features other than blueness and translucency. “I’m here on behalf of the Hyper-Celestial Peace and Order Enforcement Bureau. Crime scene secure, proceeding to interviews. Beginning with Subject One: You are Shen Qingqiu, formerly Shen Yuan, also known as Peerless Cucumber?”
"Proud Immortal Demon... Protection Squad?" Summary:
[ REWRITTEN 2023 ]
in which shen qingqiu, the nation's scum villain, doesn't perish from a qi deviation and instead, after dying tragically in his pathetic, sickly, 20 year-old body because he ate some definitely rotten yogurt he mistook for cream cheese like the absolute knob that he is, shen yuan wakes up to find himself in the body of a child, in the middle of a forest, and with absolutely no clue what world this shitty system had dropped him into. he decides to just go with the flow, one step at a time.
what could possibly go wrong?
(the answer is: everything)
(Shen Yuan Might Die Often but His) Old Habits Die Hard Summary: When Luo Binghe asks about his spiritual veins in the Holy Mausoleum, Shen Yuan's chest feels so funny that a lifetime of being chronically ill and reassuring his loved ones that, actually, he's fine kicks in. It is fine, really, because every problem in Airplane-bro's world can be solved by something that's penciled regularly into Shen Yuan's schedule at least eight times a week now.
Except the cure for Without a Cure doesn't work, and Shen Yuan's unlucky enough that Airplane-bro's plot device for winning over a tsundere via 'walking a mile in each others' bodies' hits him before he can figure out an alternative to telling Binghe that actually his five years of rebuilding Shen Qingqiu's spiritual veins diligently failed to cure him.
Luo Binghe is, of course, less than impressed to discover through personal experience what Shen Yuan, with his pain scale so skewed by years of chronic pain, never did during all his time poisoned: that, actually, having spiritual energy forming blockages and blood stagnating in your body hurts like hell.
Anyway, that's all that I've got for now. I hope that if you do take my recs you enjoy them, and remember to read all of the tags. Have fun reading!
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toms-cherry-trees · 1 year
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Peace || Aemond Targaryen x Reader
Summary:  The realm needs your husband and your husband needs you
Word Count: 1328
Warnings: None
Author’s Note:  SO! This is my very first time writing for Aemond or HOTD for that matter so please give me feedback and don't be so hard on me I am trying my best! Also I wanted to add more Valyrian but I just cannot deal with that language yet.
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Darkness has long befallen the room, only illuminated now by the warm glow of the multiple candles scattered across the chamber. A calm stillness lingers in the air, the silence of the night cut only by the merry creaking of a fire in the hearth and the rustling of the pages of the book in your lap, fingers flicking back and forth the same page, for every time you turn you realise you have forgotten everything you just read: your hazy mind unable to retain the words. Your eyelids fight to fall close, an urge you battle most valiantly with the aid of cool water splashed on your face and firm taps of your fingers on your cheeks. You refuse to give in to sleep while your husband remains bound to his duties, manoeuvring through the schemes and subtleties of winning a war.
You are once more losing the battle against exhaustion when the chamber door opens with a soft click, heavy footsteps echoing through the room. The fact Aemond moves past you is the first obvious sign of his exhaustion; no matter the time or what you are doing, a kiss is the first item of his list as soon as he retreats for the night. But more often than not lately, his mind is too overworked for him to function, his body moving through muscle memory just enough to take him to bed, hoping to steal a few hours of untranquil sleep before the whims of duty pull him from your side at the crack of dawn. 
Aemond sits near the window in your favourite armchair, the one perpetually surrounded by your basket with unfinished knitting, bits of thread and linen from endless embroiders, and stacks of books that never make it back to the shelf, being moved around endlessly on the false promise of finally finishing one read. He kicks off his boots, and that action alone drains whatever energy he has left. He leans back, elbow propped on the armrest and forehead pressed to his fingers; if left to his own, Aemond can easily fall asleep like that, ready to spring into action at any moment. 
Your bare feet barely make a sound as you approach him, your half read book soon joining the pile of unfinished lectures. Soft fingertips stroke his cheek, his head instinctively coming to lean into your warm palm. You notice in the nervous twitching of his fingers against his thigh that his mind is still harried, weighed down by piling troubles and drawbacks as he oversees the troops moving back and forth across the land to secure his brother’s throne. A throne he once coveted and now he carries in all but name; but being King or Regent is a lot more than just sitting atop a pile of molten swords, and the weight can crush you down no matter how strong your shoulders are.
You hook your hand on the crook of his elbow, pulling Aemond to his feet. He complies without much protest, allowing you to guide him to sit before your vanity. Standing behind him, you slide your fingers down his tunic, undoing the hooks until it falls open, leaving him only in his shirt. Aemond scans your expression in the mirror, trying to figure out if you want to take this further, but you only gift him a tender smile and a kiss to the crown of his head; your desire for him may be ravenous, but you wouldn’t push him into anything while he barely has strength to hold himself upright.
You remove the eyepatch and leave it in the vanity, the soft candlelight casting a warm glow upon the sapphire which lies underneath. When tensions pile high, Aemond gets throbbing headaches behind the scar; you massage his temples in slow circles, earning a small sigh of approval as his head falls back to rest against your body. His eye flutters close, some of the tension of his jaw has loosened and his fingers now lay carefully laced above his abdomen, legs stretched before him propped on your footrest. 
“Hard day I see” You do not ask, you only confirm the obvious. Every day is hard, but some days seem to truly make an effort to be unbearable. Aemond only hums in agreement, but you take no offence in his lack of reply; he spends every waking hour with others demanding things and placing their needs and expectations on him; within those four walls of your shared chamber is the only place where he can exist; not excel.
You know small chatter is not something he likes to engage in, but is a mechanism for him to decompress; let go of his frustrations by dwelling in the most mundane topics life has to offer. You grab a hair comb and some scented oils, your quiet voice filling his mind with the ups and downs of your day while you work the brush through his silvery tresses; you tell him of how you went to visit Helaena that day and read to her from one of her favourite books, hoping to coax a smile out of her. You speak of your son, Aerion, and how pleased the little child is every time you take him to see his hatchling, Suvion. You try to narrate to him the story you had been reading, but the plot had long abandoned your mind, so you improvise a more or less decent story on the spot.
“You are lying” His voice startles you, for you had been caught up in your narration and the gentle motion of brushing his hair “I know that book. Your tale has been quite entertaining, my dearest wife, but it is filled with lies and deception”
Even if you had not been looking, you would have been able to hear the smirk in his voice; the barely lighter than normal enunciation and the way the words roll off his lips are details reserved only for the amusement he expresses over your everyday antics. At moments like this he is not Aemond One Eye, nor Aemond the Kinslayer, nor the Prince Regent. He is only your husband. 
“I happened to be very tired when I read the book” You defended yourself “The hour is quite late”
“You should have slept. If your body urges you to rest, you must heed the call” Nimble fingers capture the hand with the brush by the wrist, bringing your fingers close to kiss your knuckles lovingly. 
“I will not lay to rest while you toil away with the Small Council and your family and every single thing going wrong at the moment. I will share your burdens however I can; I do not believe myself die over a few hours of missed sleep”
A ghost of a smile tugs on the corners of his sharp lips, his lilac eye fixated upon your face hovering above his, his head nestled comfortably in the warmth of your flesh. His index traces the line of your jaw, fingertip tickling under your chin like one does with a cat. Suddenly the fingers lay behind your neck, putting pressure down and urging you to meet him halfway for a kiss. There is a feverish desperation coming from him; not urges fueled by desire, but rather by the unspoken seeking of comfort, of tenderness. Of a caring touch to clench the deeply rooted apprehension that he is disappointing everyone around him. To remind himself that there is one soul who will not walk out on him even if the realm falls apart in his hands. 
When the kiss breaks, your hands cup his cheeks, your forehead resting lightly upon his while you two dwell on the sparks still flying between you two. It does not matter how many moons have passed since the wedding, your belly flutters with every kiss as it did with the first.
“Ready for bed, my dear husband?”
“Ready, jorrāeliarza ābrazȳrys”
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calypsocolada · 8 months
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BUILD UP | r. zoro
(part two of winner winner)
synopsis: somethings building between you and the stoic swordsman, roronoa zoro. author's note: hiiii, this is just a lil somethin somethin for fun :) cw: suggestive, not proofread forgive me wc: 3.3k
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Zoro sat at the wooden table alone, an ale in his hand as he watched you from across the table. His eyes never leaving any part of you. He watched you laugh, which was more often in the passing months. Watched you smile as Usopp embellished some stories about past adventures. 
Zoro liked watching you, ever since you two kissed he found himself staring all the time. It was embarrassing really, how much one kiss changed the entirety of his actions towards you. But you… yeah you seemed as oblivious as ever. He was nervous all the time now, careful of what he said and did. You made him nervous and he found himself wanting to impress you. Zoro never really considered himself a romantic, in fact he knew he didn’t have much of a romantic bone in his body but he would try all that shit for you. He stayed near you during fights, offered you food that he couldn’t finish, cleaned your sword and always made sure there was a space next to him for you to sleep. You were always cold and Zoro used that as an excuse to sleep close to you most nights, he really really didn’t mind.
You reached for your glass and brought the rim to your lips, sipping as your eyes slid to Zoro’s, in the candle light you saw him blush when your eyes met his. You set your cup back down on the table and gave him a small smile before turning your attention back to Usopp. You were at some sort of town gathering, the crew and you had saved this village from some wannabe dictator and in your honor they threw a little celebration. There was drinks and food and dance and cheerfulness all around. Zoro wasn’t much for fun and dancing, he’d rather nurse his ale. But you on the other hand, you’d really grown out of your shell being with the strawhats and when a villager with kind eyes sidled up beside you you saw Zoro’s eyes sharpen. You turned as the man gave you a kind smile. Your hand flew to the knife on your hip but Sanji caught your hand, mouthing the word ‘relax’. 
“Hi, I don’t want to trouble you but I was wondering if you’d like to dance?” He asked, the music near the middle of the village had started to pick up and swell towards the table you were sitting at. You eased up your hand. You didn’t know how to dance and dancing with someone you didn’t know seemed even worse. 
“She would love to, right?” Sanji interjects, giving you a smile. You forced a smile back, nodding your head as he held out his hand. You took it and let him sweep you off towards the town square. 
The village was full of life and love, all swinging in time with the music as they danced without a care in the world. It was infectious, a smile permanently plastered to your lips as the man swept you around and spun you dizzy. You giggled uncontrollably, fingers entwined with his, your hair dancing in the wind. 
Zoro watched from afar, the drink in his hand held so tightly his knuckles were slowly turning white. He wasn’t much of a dancer but if you wanted to dance he’d do it. He’d do anything and everything for you. He felt sick with anger and jealousy as he watched some other man spin you around, the smile on your face as bright as the morning sun. Sanji noticed his sour mood and turned to look at where he was looking. 
“You’re such an idiot.” Sanji mumbled into his glass as Zoro’s eyes cut to his. “Letting that girl dance with someone else.”
“Shut your damn mouth.” Zoro grumbled, taking a big gulp of his ale. Sanji laughed, pushing up from his chair. 
“Think it’s my turn to cut in.” He says, walking over towards you. Zoro felt his stomach turn, his face beat red as he watched that sly cook sidle over to you. You’d gotten softer in the passing months and when he cut in you smiled kindly and waved to your last partner. Zoro watched for approximately thirty seconds. That was the last straw. He slammed his drink against the table startling some of the people around him and pushed out of his seat. He stomped over to you and when you spotted him you smiled huge. He melted, all the anger and jealousy he was feeling dissipated as he watched you say something to Sanji before slipping away from him and towards Zoro. 
“Are you turning in for the night?” You asked as you two walked closer to each other. Zoro didn’t answer, just swept you into his arms and pulled you back into the throng of dancers. His right hand pressed gently into the small of your back, the other enveloped your hand in a warm grip. He grinned down at you as he twirled you around before dipping and snapping you back up, your faces mere inches from one anothers. “I thought you said you couldn't dance.” You smirked, slightly out of breath. Zoro’s hand around your back tightened as he pulled you closer to his warm body. 
“I said I didn’t like to, not that I couldn’t.” Zoro corrects as the music swells before slowing. Couples form and press together as romance sweeps in. Zoro slowed and you followed his lead. 
“Then why dance with me?” You ask as Zoro’s eyes slide down to yours. 
“Is that a serious question, killer?” He asks and when you don’t object he snorts a soft laugh. “Because it’s you. That’s why.” Your breath hitches in your throat. Two months ago Zoro and you kissed by the fire. You thought about it every night since then but he hadn’t made a move on you since. You trained everyday together and things were tense but not in a bad way, in a way that made you want to grab him by the collar at every given moment. But you kept that all to yourself because these growing feelings in your chest burned a hole right through you. You knew nothing of romance, didn’t really even know what it meant to be with someone but god did you want to be with Zoro anyway you could have him. You tightened your hand in his, slowly dragging your eyes up to his.
“Were you jealous?” You asked. Zoro’s brow flicked up slightly as you followed his lead in the dance.
“Were you trying to make me jealous?” There was a sort of call and response thing happening with you two. Someone would notice you, maybe ask you to dance or ask you to dinner, moments later there’s Zoro, brash and brazen, staring away any possibilities. You didn’t mind it at all. He was the only one to catch your eyes.
“I don’t know,” You start with a cheeky smirk. “Did it work?” His cheeks pinken as he exhales a laugh, shaking his head.
“What am I going to do with you?” He sighs lovingly. 
“Whatever you like.” You say and watch his ears burn. You weren’t aware of the undertones of that sentence. He leans into you, lips barely brushing your ear as he speaks.
“We could go back to the ship if you like?” He whispers, sending shivers down your spine.
“But I’m not tired yet.” You said, eliciting a warm laugh out of him. 
“We wouldn’t be sleeping.”
“Are you really not enjoying the party?” You question, clearly missing something. “Because we can go back to the ship if you really want.” You offer as Zoro laughs even harder, shaking his head.
“Nevermind, killer.” He says as the band finishes off the song and the villagers applaud the performance. You watch Zoro clap, he was so hard to read sometimes, or maybe it was your fault. You just wanted to take him by the shoulders and shake a confession out of him. 
“Roronoa-“ Drops of rain start to fall, slowly at first but then pick up. You look up into the sky, the drops hitting your warm skin as Zoro’s hand wraps around yours, pulling you towards shelter. He shoulders open a rickety old door leading into some kind of gazebo, rain beating against the tin roofing. It was soothing really. He kicked the door closed behind you two as you shivered from the cold walking deeper into the room. There were empty chairs in the corner and some tools and garden pots. It must’ve been a tool shed that you two ducked into. You grabbed a strange looking trinket, blowing the dust off of it to inspect it. 
“Here,” Zoro’s voice said just behind you as he placed his jacket onto your shoulders, warmth soothing your shaking. You gave him a small smile, pulling your arms through the arm holes. “What's that?” He asks, walking closer to you, practically pressing himself against your back to peer over your shoulder. You turned the little charm over in your fingers, recognizing the woodwork. You laughed a little. 
“It’s a figurine from an island near Orange Town. My father used to steal them from the shopkeeper.” You say, placing the figurine back down where you got it from. You didn’t talk about your father much, all the pirates knew of him and quite frankly you didn’t want to be associated with him. He wasn’t a good person. You feel Zoro behind you. 
“Not gonna take it?” He asks and you shake your head. “You are very different from what I expected.” Zoro says. You turn to face him, your bodies practically pressed together, your space was his too apparently. 
“What did you expect?” You had a feeling of what he meant but you wanted to hear it coming from him. Your father was a fearsome, murderous pirate and you barely escaped him with your life to join the straw hats. He was probably as well known as the king of pirates but for all the wrong reasons. 
“To have to keep an eye on you at all times.” He says and you laugh slightly. 
“You do that anyways.” You say and he smirks. 
“But for very different reasons.”
“Oh? And what are those reasons, Roronoa?” You ask and watch his cheeks blush. He liked when you called him by his first name, it felt special coming from your lips. 
“I’d rather keep that to myself.” He says. He’s so tall that you slightly crane your neck to look up at him. He has that look in his eye, the same look he had when he kissed you. 
“Keep your secrets.” You whisper, watching his eyes dart to your lips then back to your eyes. Your stomach bottoms out as you try and keep still. He tilts his head slightly, a long finger coming up to brush your hair off your forehead. The rickety old door bangs open as Sanji bumbles in, wet and slipping against the ground. You back away from Zoro, embarrassment flooding your stomach. Sanji startles at the sight of you both before blowing out a sigh. 
“There you are!” He says, walking forwards and yanking you into a tight hug, he reeked of alcohol. You patted his back, with a laugh, his wet hair dripping on your shoulder. 
“Everything alright, Sanji?” You asked as Sanji pulled back, still gently holding both of your biceps as he spoke very passionately. 
“I have to tell you something very important.” Sanji slurred, slightly losing his balance. You reach up and hold his arms to help steady him.
“What’s that?” You ask as Sanji laughs, veering right, almost knocking you both over. Zoro grabs you, letting Sanji crash into various pots and potting soil. You burst out laughing, Zoro still holding you. “Sanji, how much did you drink?” You ask through fits of laughter. 
“Too much…” He grumbles from the floor below. You hold out a hand as Sanji grabs it and you help him up but once he has his foot he grabs you and spins you around the small shed. Zoro watches, a cloudy expression on his face, eyes like lightning. “I have to express what I feel!” Sanji declares in the small shed gaining another laugh from you.
“What is it that you feel, Sanji?” You ask, playing along. He slows, looking at with heat in his stare. 
“You are so beautiful, too beautiful even. Much too beautiful to be fooling around with that bozo and-”
“Alright, casanova, enough.” Zoro interjects, yanking Sanji back by the collar of his shirt. “You’re making a fool out of yourself.” 
“You’re the fool!” Sanji growls. You weren’t sure when things got so heated, you were just busting a rib moments ago. “You can’t keep her at arms length then get jealous when someone wises up to how much of a catch she is!” Sanji huffs dramatically. 
“Shut up.” Zoro dismisses, crossing his arms over his chest. Sanji mimics him, crossing his arms and lowering his voice.
“Shut up.” He echoes, you snort a laugh but pretend you weren’t laughing when Zoro looks back at you. He looks back at Sanji, with murder in his eyes. You step forwards, running a hand up Zoro’s back calmingly.
“Sanji, don’t antagonize him.” You jest as the rain comes in slower and slower. Sanji huffs, blowing his blond fringe out of his eyes. He shoots one last look at Zoro as he walks to the door. 
“You're running out of time. Someone’s going to wise up.” He says to Zoro before giving you a smile and slipping out of the door. 
“He is so strange.” You say, shaking your head. It was quiet behind you so you turned, meeting Zoro’s eyes. There was something eating at him. “Sounds like the rain stopped,” you say, walking towards the door. Zoro’s fingers wrap carefully around your forearm, pausing your movement to the door. You turn. “Roronoa-“ he’s on you in seconds, like there was no room to wait any longer. His body pressed yours against the rickety old door, eager lips meeting yours. You gasp, his hands coming up to cup either side of your face. The desperation slowly melting into soft almost sickly sweet kisses. 
“Please,” Zoro murmurs into your mouth. “Stay here with me.” Your heart stutters in your chest at the low rasp of his voice. Your entire body feels as though a fire has started beneath the floorboards and is slowly catching you ablaze. He was so rough around the edges, coarse hands and hard stares. But he held your face softly, so softly if felt as though he thought you might break beneath his touch. What did this all mean? What did your uneven heartbeat mean? Or the unsteadiness of your breath, or the burning want in the pit of your stomach. You’d never felt this way and chasing the sensation seemed like the only thing you ever actually wanted to do. Sure you loved to fight, you were raised as a fighter, but did the love of it come from the desire to please your absent father? In some ways Zoro was just like your father, strong and eager. But the glaring difference was Zoro was still around. After spending months by your side he hadn’t left, not even when he really should’ve. You trusted Zoro and all those mental obstacles in your head he seemed to vault with ease.
Your fingers slowly make their way up as you slide your arms around the back of his neck, fingertips tangling in his hair. His hands move from your cheeks to just below your butt as he picks you up with extreme ease and walks you to the opposite side of the room, setting you carefully atop a table. His kisses grow deeper as the space between practically turns to nothing. He grabs you by the hips and pulls you against him. His lips trailing from your lips to the side of your mouth then down to your neck. 
“Zoro,“ you say with a strangled breath, he pulls back just slightly. Looking up at you with shining eyes and pink lips. 
“Use my name.” He says husky and deep. You clear your throat. 
“Roronoa-“ you could barely get the last letter out before he’s crashing his lips back against your own. Kissing you with such ferocity and vigor. A groan bubbles up out of his lips but you kiss it away. He seemed to be making up for those two months of nothing. Two months of building tension, of teaching you to use a sword, which you were really fluid with now. Two months of him eyeing you and getting angry when Sanji tried to make any moves. He was taking everything you could give him. You thought back to when you first asked him how you knew you liked someone and he told you to kiss them. It was very clear to you now, Sanji was right after all. It is just something you knew. 
Zoro pulled back from the assault on your neck and with glazed eyes looked at you. He made a sound low in his throat, the air thick as can be between you. You weren’t even sure what you were going to say before. All you could think about was the space between you and how that should not exist. You took him by the collar.
“Don’t stop now.” You said cheekily, yanking him practically on top of you, the table groaning with his added weight. His body caged your own, his elbow propping itself beside your head as you hiked one leg up to wrap around his hips. He stuttered against you, something almost nervous in his movements. Your hands slid to his sides, pulling him closer to you, the contact had him almost whimpering into your open mouth. Zoro was so commanding out there, but even with him pressing you down on the table you felt like the one in control. With precise and trained movements you maneuvered yourself beneath him and in the blink of a second you slid on top with ease, hips rubbing against one another. A shocking white lightening pulsed inside you at the movement. Zoro sucked in a breath below you, hands digging into the meat of your hips. You moved against him, almost unconsciously as you leaned and pressed a kiss to the side of his mouth, following the lead he set for you earlier. Your lips trailed fire down to his throat as you kissed it gently, him twitching beneath you. You kissed his scars, grabbing and intertwining your fingers with his own. You're not sure how far to take this, it’s not something you’d ever done before and quite frankly not something you wanted to try for the first time in a rickety old dusty shed. But your body was hungry for him, a breathless whimper escaping your lips. As thought an ice cold bucket of water was tossed onto you, there was a banging at the door. You flew off Zoro, stumbling over some pots, almost crashing into the floor. Zoro snapped to his feet, grabbing your hand before you could meet the ground as Luffy and Usopp popped their heads inside. 
“There you two are!” Luffy said, innocently pushing the door open.
“Sanji said you two would be in here.” Usopp said, eyes wandering the shed. “Rain’s over and it’s getting late, we should head off the island.” He says and you nod. 
“Let’s go!” Luffy says excitedly, running out of the shed, Usopp following moments later. It was silent for a few too many seconds before you started to laugh, running a hand through your hair.  
“What’s so funny?” Zoro asked, eyes devouring you. 
“Nothing. We should head back.” You breathe out, biting your lip to slow the giggles. You walk towards the door but Zoro grabs you one last time, spinning your around and kissing you dizzy. When he pulls back he looks at you very earnestly. 
“Lead the way, killer.”   
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usernameforaboredcat · 7 months
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Black & Red (Shanks X F!Reader X Mihawk) SMUT
Anonymous request (I got chu)
Just a simple day at the beach drinking turns into something way more hot and steamy than expected.
A long fic, have fun babes
Warning ⚠️: age-gap, threesome, groping, double penetration, deep throating, maybe some others that I forgot idk its sex ya know the type of shit youre signing up for.
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“Shaaaanks, come on! It’s too early to drink, we’ll be up all night again”.
“Don’t worry about it so much sweetheart! It’ll be fun!”.
That’s the last coherent conversation I remember before getting shit faced and passing out on a beach with Shanks. No matter how many times I tell myself ‘you gotta stop doing this, I don’t care how hot he is I can’t be drinking this much’ but do I ever listen? No of course not! Have you see him? That man is so hot and fine, all I can do is easily submit to anything he asks. I mean it's not the first time he's easily made me submit to something, which ended in a lot of hookups or alleyway deepthroating. Hehe...
I awaken from my slumber as I feel myself being shaken. “Wakey wakey sweetheart”. I hear an all too familiar and soothing voice. I groan and snuggle more into his chest. “Nooo. You made me drink and gave me a hangover”. I mumble. “Does it make you feel better knowing that I have one too?”. He asks, running his fingers through my hair.
“A little”.
~
I yawn as I walk back to the cove the crew was camping at, coming back from some private business time…I had to pee. I see the crew already partying and drinking again. Seriously? “Hey! (Y/n)!”. I look towards Shanks, seeing him drinking with an unfamiliar man with a large sword sitting next to him, a long coat and a large hat. “Have you ever heard of the 7 warlords?”. Shanks asks me, the man turning to look at me. “Uh yeah…I’ve heard of them…”. I answer nervously, I think I already know where this is going before he can even finish. “This is Mihawk! An old buddy of mine! He’s one of the warlords”. He explains, using his free hand to usher me over.
I walk over to the two men, Shanks pulling me over to sit on his lap. "Come on (Y/n), don't be shy now and say hi!". He tells me, as if I'm a child. Sir, I'm 20. I turn to look at the warlord, man is he an attractive man. "Hello". I greet him. "Hello, young lady". He greets back. I turn to look up at Shanks, tugging on his shirt to draw his attention to me. "So what's this about? Why are we partying again?". I ask him, tilting my head slightly. He smile and laughs. "Ya know that Luffy kid I told you about? He finally got his first wanted poster!". He answers happily.
I remember him talking about that Luffy kid. Shanks told me how he met him years ago, the dumb little kid who cut his cheek and ate the gum gum fruit. He isn't any younger than me, the more I think about that the more it kinda makes me feel weird. Still, I'd like to meet him one day.
"Huh, look at him". I mutter under my breath, but I know Shanks heard me. As if the conversation is forgotten about, Shanks now holding out a filled cup of booz to me. "Enough yappin! Take a sip, dear". He orders me. 'Uh, I really don't wanna drink'. I take the cup from him, taking a sip from it. "Atta girl". He coos, his hand now sitting on my hip, rubbing up and down with his thumb. I feel a shiver runs down my spine, the feeling of his hand running straight to my core. He knows exactly what he's doing, he knows how to get my body going.
'God, I hate him'.
~
My breath quickens as I feel a jolt run through my body, whimpers slipping through my lips no matter how hard I try to hide them. "Ssshhh, not so loud baby". Shanks whispers into my ear, his finger not stopping it's abuse on my clit. I throw my head back into his board shoulder. "Sh-Shanks, pleeeease~". I whimper out. "Hm? Please what? Need me to fuck you already?". He asks in a deep tone, his hot breath down my neck. "I-hhh I!". I stumble on my words, needing him to give me just a second to cum. "I'm sorry to disturb you, Shanks". I feel my body freeze, but Shanks doesn't stop. "Oh, hey Mihawk". He pulls his hand away, my legs giving out and I collapse to the forest floor.
"What's up? You leaving already?". Shanks asks the other man. "I was thinking that, yes". Mihawk confirms. "Oh come on, you just got here. Why not have a little fun with (Y/n) and I? I don't mind sharing that pretty face". He offers the man. 'HUH!?'. I turn my head behind me, looking over to the men. I look over to Mihawk, seeing that he's already looking at me dead in the eyes with a hungry look. "You're too open with sharing your toys, Shanks". He comments, taking his sword off his back and setting it against a nearby tree. The two men walk over to me, Mihawk standing in front of me as I feel Shanks crouch behind me. "You don't mind, do you sweetheart?". Shanks asks me, pulling me back so my back is against his hard chest, using his hand to rub my chin. "N-No". I stutter out nervously, looking up into Mihawks almost glowing eyes.
Shanks chuckles as his hand goes down to my shirt, pulling it up to expose my bare chest. "Good girl~". He hums into my ear, nuzzling into my neck. I shiver and shut my eyes as Shanks's cold hand goes down to my chest, groping and grabbing at my tit. I let out a soft moan, feeling him twist and play with my nipple. Shanks's head rises once again, nibbling on my ear lobe. "Come on baby, show the war lord what that mouth of yours can do". He orders. I hum with a nod, finally opening my eyes to look up at the warlord.
I break eye contact to see a growing bulge in his pants, only half hard. I grab the hem of his pants, slowly pulling them down. His half hard shaft rises up slightly, hanging straight out from his body. I reach up and grab him by the base, Mihawk letting out a very quiet groan. I lean forward and close my lips over his tip, licking his tip. I look back up to look into Mihawks eyes, slowly moving my head back and forth as she stares down at me. "Oh don't try and ease me into, unless Shanks hasn’t taught you properly”. He comments in an unimpressive tone.
Shanks chuckles from behind me, his hand sneaking up to the back of my head. “She can take it, I have her working that throat of hers every night like the slut she is”. He responds, gripping my head and moving my head for me. I moan into Mohawks cock as Shanks moves my head for me, shoving me down on his cock more. I cough as I feel myself getting shoved deep down, feeling him deep down my throat. Shanks moves his hand away, but I keep the pace he set and continue to deep throat his cock. “That’s better”. Mihawk compliments. “Yeah, she’s a good girl, aren’t ya sweetheart”. Shanks chuckles, sliding his hand down my back. My body jolts when I feel Shanks’s hand back in my panties, running his finger through my wet folds.
My body shivers as I feel Shanks use a free finger to poke it in and out of my aching pussy, causing me to just need more friction. My body was already so close to being filled, but now we're back to square one. My body is tingling painfully, needing release finally. I start to moan painfully onto Mihawks cock, breathing through my nose quickens as tears build up in my eyes. I try to move my body, needing more than just the tip of Shanks's fingers inside me. "Shanks, your pet is getting restless". Mihawk tells the red head. Shanks chuckles. "I can tell, she's trying to suck my fingers in". He confirms. Mihawk then grips the back of my head aggressively, speeding up his pace and slamming down into my throat. "Don't worry dear, you can get fucked as much as you want once I'm finished". He tells me, his penis tip punching the back of my throat.
Shanks chuckles again. "Look at you, you'll get all the cock you want. I bet a whore like you is loving this". He whispers into my ear. "I can't wait to see you drenched with cum". He adds in a deeper tone, licking up my neck. "Take it, take Mihawks cum, take all the cum like I trained you to". I shut my eyes as tears spill from my eyes, struggling terribly to breath. My body feels like it's going to explode, ready to gush all over Shanks's hand. With a few twitches of his cock, Mihawk slams all the way down my throat his warm cum fills up my throat. I cough on the cum, gulping it down. Mihawk slowly pulls out his dick, sucking on the left to leave not a single drop. "Good slut". Shanks compliments. "You did train her good, I commend you that Shanks". Mihawk tells him. "Wait till you feel her pussy, perfection". Shanks respond.
Shanks pulls his hand away from me as I let out an annoyed whimper, pushing my body slightly to let my body fall to the ground on my hands and knees. I breath heavily as I try to catch my breath, my body shaking and loosing its mind from not be able to cum again. A cold hand on my ass makes me jump, I look lazily over my shoulder to see Mihawk kneeling behind me. I turn to look in front of me, looking up to see Shanks looking down at me with a smirk. He gently grabs my chin, rubbing it with his thumb as his smirk turns into a loving smile. "You're such a good girl, if I wasn't clingy I'd let people pay for them to fuck you. You're perfect mouth, pussy, ass, everything. Other men wish they could get one night with a goddess like you". He praises, his words going straight to my core. The mental image of getting fucked and covered in cum while Shanks watches, full bukaki as he just sits happily.
"Would you like that? Or would you rather some weak desperate men pay to watch me fuck you, show them how to really please a woman". He adds. That hit my core harder, Shanks cucking a guy. Some poor bastard watching Shanks fill and fuck my pussy full of cock and cum. I feel a warm tip rub against my folds, rubbing at my tip and poking at my hole. "Go ahead Mihawk, I wanna see the faces she makes when being filled by another man". He tells the other man. Then without warning, Mihawk easily slides his cock fully inside me. A whimpered moan escapes my lips, my legs shaking at the feeling of being filled finally. "Now isn't that a pretty face". Shanks points out, palming himself through his pants. "Sh-Shanks~". I whimper out, looking up at him with pleading eyes. "I need...yoooooou". I moan out, craving more. I struggle to keep my body steady as Mihawk ruthlessly pounds into my body, slamming deep inside me. It feels weird to have another cock inside me, being so used to Shanks monster in his pants. Mihawks length is kind of refreshing, feeling his tip slamming into my curvix.
Shanks chuckles as he looks down at my wanting face, eyes begging for something from him. "You really have been a whore all along, being stuffed with cock and still needing more". He hums. He sits up more, pulling his pants down and his cock smashing me in the face. "Go on then, take the cock you so desperately need". He tells me. He slides his cock into my mouth, my body quickly jolting back and forth. I moan onto Shanks's cock, breathing rapidly through my nose. I can't breath, my body is shaking so much. 'FUCK, I'M GONNA CUM AND WE'VE JUST STARTED! FUCK BUT I NEED TO CUM!'. I give in, moaning loudly as my body finally releases as my body shakes violently. Mihawk hisses, pounding faster. "What's wrong buddy? She cum and squeeze ya?". Shanks asks him. "Indeed, she's trying to strangle me". He responds, causing Shanks to laugh.
"Props to you, I would have cum at her clenching like that". He chuckles. "You're just weak". Mihawk comments. I'm surprised I can still comprehend what they're saying, my whole body is weak and my head is fuzzy. I can't go on, cumming and still being fucked is driving my body crazy. I can tell that I'm finally giving out, because now I can't hear properly what the two are saying. Everything stops, feeling arms wrap under my legs and I get hoisted up with Shanks's cock popping out my mouth. I feel my back press against Mihawks chest, him holding me out spread legged. I see Shanks standing in front of me, he strokes my cheek loving me. "Sh-Shanks...". I pant out. He pulls his hand away, letting me lean my head against Mihawks shoulder.
My body jolts, fulling waking up at the feeling of Shanks sliding into my insides. I pant at the pain, reaching to grip hard onto Shanks shoulder. "That's it, you can take it". Shanks reassures me in a soft tone. My body relaxes, feeling the two men filling and stretching me out. My body felt so stuffed, I thought I was going to rip in half. The feeling didn't get any better when the two started to thrust in sync, thankfully going slow on me. Every breath was a loud moan, my eyes rolling to the back of my head. Their pace speeds up, my mouth drooling from them massing up my insides. The feeling is indescribable, being fucked hard and stuffed to the brink of ripping. I felt like I was gonna pass out, I don't even know if I could cum again.
Their paces speed up, going full speed in and out my pussy. I cry and scream out my moans, digging my nails so hard against Shanks's shoulders that I wouldn't be surprised if there was blood. I could feel my freedom apporting, feeling the two older men twitching and their thrusts growing sloppy to out of sync. Next minute, Shanks lets out a groan as he finally cums. He sits and stays there panting, staying inside me. Soon enough, Mihawk cums again for a second time. The two pull out of me, Mihawk moving me to be laying in his arms. I feel like I'm on the verge of passing out, my brain fuzzy and hazy. A warm hand strokes my face softly, a soft kiss on my forehead. "Good job baby, you can rest". Shanks soft voice luls me to sleep, I finally pass out in Mihawks arms.
[bonus]
The two older men walk out the forest and back onto the beach, the other pirates noticing the passed out younger girl in Mihawks arms. "Is she okay?". Benn asks. "Did something happen?". Yasopp asks. Shanks waves them off. "Don't worry she's all fine, just a little shaken up". He reassures. "Why? Did something happen?". Benn asks. Mihawk chimes in. "Just some scary monster".
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drefear · 8 months
Text
Righteous and Romance
Summary: Miguel is the God of chaos, and you are the goddess of peace and beauty. an idea originally by @hrhmimieucliffe
TW: light smut, p in v.
He was inherently chaos, broad backed and straight shouldered. He was the voice dripped in red and encouraged man’s wildest desires: murder, sex, gambling, money, and more. A drowning flame, he was a mystery cloaked in anger and resentment, mirroring unease at every fine point. He was insanity and she was clever. She was butterfly kisses of the sea salt air on the beach, an afternoon sun shower with a rainbow across the bluest sky. She smelled of lavender and truth, and she sounded like honey covered dew drops on the tongue of a river. Her laughter made men fall to their knees, and so did his sword. His words made widows weep, and her words made them pray for thanks. 
She was all that was good and beautiful, and he was the fire that burned beauty to the ground in a pile of rotten ashes. 
They did not see eye to eye. 
“A martyr, creating such victims with your gifts.” Miguel roared, his nature as God of Terror taking hold of his mind as he stormed into your garden while you tanned in the grass. One of your eyes opened to see his hulking, angered form marching towards you and you let out a deep sigh in retaliation. 
“At least I am one to give gifts, as I recall you only give grief.” You sat up, fastening your silk robes around your waist as you covered your shoulders and leaned on one hand. He blocked the sun as he stood in front of you, frown cutting the corners of his mouth sharply. 
“Grief builds countries, grief gives men purpose and woman motivation. What do your frilly gifts do for anyone?” 
“My beauty and kindness gives all who they grace a sense of purity and happiness, of which can also build countries and give purpose and motivation. Have you ever been kind in your life?” 
“No one has given me a reason to do so.” As you stood to speak to him, you felt dwarfed by his stature and fixed your posture. 
“You should not need a reason to be kind to another.” You spoke back and he stayed quiet, no other words being spoken. 
This was a battle of beliefs, an unspoken exchange of ideas. You stared at one another silently before he turned on his heels and stomped away. 
But the truth was, at night, he worshiped your body like a loyal disciple. HIs lips ghosted over your skin as you mounted his lap, being held but one of his arms around your waist as your head fell backwards. Miguel pushed your hair off of your shoulder as he kisses and licked the top of your soft breasts, pacing himself and going slow to savor you like his last meal. 
“Your body is like a peaceful night under the stars.” He whispered as your hands wound their way into his brown hair, shivering at his sweet words. “Thank you for this, for giving yourself to me, my sweet Goddess.” He thanked you, appreciated you as your bodies rocked together in harmony, a melody only the two of you would ever witness. 
“My bold MIguel, let me give you everything when it is just us, let yourself fall deep into love.” You spoke against his forehead as he rolled your hips against his, buried deep inside of you as you shook with overwhelming pleasure. 
“I have fallen in love, and you are my only saving grace, you are my all and nothing could compare to our intimacy. I only pray to you, I only make love to you.” His admission of true love and devotion sends waves of ecstasy to your core and makes you clench around him as you both finish. Sweat covered your features as he laid down your bare body, staying close to you and refusing to detach himself. “I will never be with another like I am with you, to the Gods I swear it.” He announced and you cupped his cheek, bruising your thumb against the stubble. 
“To you, my precious Miguel, I am only my true self, and you are my purest desire, my indulgence. You are mine.” You concluded as your eyes pulled you into a black abyss and you both fell asleep, knowing that tomorrow the bickering would continue and the night would create a paradoxical love once more, between Chaos and Beauty. 
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freds-one-piece-fics · 8 months
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Tumblr media
Overnight work
Straw hat’s [redacted] (Yandere! Strawhats x reader)
Prologue
Tw: blood, wounds, splinters (pretty descriptive)
A little bonding time with... Zoro???? Lucky you!!!
~~~~~~~~~~
When you joined the straw hats, they expected some hard work on your end. Not because they wanted you to, oh no no no. The reason they came to this conclusion was because of the hard work you put in your old job and how seriously you took it.
They just didn't expect how invested you were in completing tasks...
On your first day living on the ship, you got up and waited on the rest of the crew, figuring that it'd be rude to snoop around on your own. Once the crew did leave their beds, they were surprised, even more so when you asked what duties you have been assigned.
The crew wasn't really sure where to start honestly. They really didn't think that far (Luffy made that decision to bring you on the ship without an actual plan), so they instead asked you to join in on a fun activity that day.
Initially, you were distracted from doing any real work, but you being you... you eventually found some labor.
Usopp, Luffy, and Chopper tried keeping your attention away from such boring tasks, but you couldn't even focus on the game at hand. Not when one of the newly replaced back sail had that nasty hole in it...
That simply wouldn't do.
So off you went, grabbing a spare sail clothe to replace the damaged one.
It took most of the afternoon just replacing it and inspecting any parts of the ship. The more mature members of the crew kept the others (mainly Luffy) from interrupting your work, but even they were bothered by your refusal to accept help.
Sanji even made dinner earlier so he could get you to break your unwavering attention on the sails, which worked fortunately!
That night, dinner was loud and chaotic.
It was a type of chaos that held no genuine malice, even as Sanji threatened to shove his foot up Zoro's hyper-clenched asshole.
You ate your food politely, even letting Luffy snag some food off your plate (much to Sanji's chagrin) while Sanji was distracted by Nami's beauty or Zoro's "I don't give a fuck" attitude.
Over all, the first day was uneventful, even for the Straw hat's standards…
BAM!
"...What the hell?" Zoro hissed in annoyance at first, only for that irritation to be replaced by caution as he heard another sound, this time more quiet then before...
Whoever was up there was trying (and failing) to be quiet.
The other men snored loudly as Zoro snuck out the room with his swords. His senses were on high alert as he poked his head outside, seeing nothing but the deck lacking any other living being.
His attention was directed to above him once he heard soft but heavy feet walking on the wood deck above.
Swords drawn, Zoro leapt onto the anchor deck, ready to tear into who ever dared to sneak onto the Going Merry. His rush of adrenaline only increased tenfold when he spotted a tall figure hidden by the shadows of the moonless night.
The figure turned with a large wood pole on their shoulder, nearly knocking Zoro off the deck. He ducked down just in time before launching himself towards the figure with his blades crossed in front of him. the figure quickly dropped the pole to the side of them and gripped the blades, keeping Zoro from slicing the figure.
He almost couldn't budge from the grip the person had on his swords, but he pulled, and pulled, and pulled, slowly cutting through the hand's delicate palms like thick butter before a pained growl was let out.
Shock, hurt, and confusion displayed itself on your face as you looked back in Zoro's golden brown eyes, who did a double take as well.
"(Y/n)!? What the hell!?" He yelled and backed away with his blades as soon as you released them.
"I'm... sorry?" You said in pure confusion.
"What-What are you doing out here this late!? And why are you swinging a giant pole around!?" He demanded while pointing his sword at you accusingly.
"I'm... finishing what I started yesterday." You said while pointing over to where the hind mast would be, which appeared to be missing.
Well... Not really.
Zoro would realize this when he finally stared at the now familiar looking mast laying on the deck beside them.
"...didn't you fix it though?" Was all he could ask in that moment.
"Only the sail. The repair shop missed the smaller mast apparently. The main one is in perfect condition, but this one wasn't." You said with a small huff.
Zoro slowly sheathed his swords, still giving you a strange look.
"Alright, but... at night?"
"It's better to get it done as soon as possible."
You walked over to grab the pole, only to jolt and pause before grabbing the pole more gently.
"Oi, leave it be." Zoro said while approaching you.
"I have to-"
"Your hands are cut open." Zoro muttered something about you being a dumbass before reaching down and grabbing your hands to look at them.
Your eyebrows were raised in surprise by his sudden touch and closeness, even more so by the fact that he gave a crap.
He clicked his tongue, feeling the blood on your calloused hands but unable to see well on this moonless night.
"...I can't see shit. C'mon." He turned away and walked towards the stairs.
You were hesitant to follow. Sure, you were bleeding and it hurt, but the job wasn't done. You CANNOT have the captain see his own mast laying on the anchor deck.
Unfortunately for you, the swordsman wouldn't take no for an answer.
"Get your ass down here, we need to clean your wounds."
"But Captain Luffy won't be pleased with the mast-"
"I'm his first mate. I have authority, so I say you leave the stupid piece of wood and bandage your hands. You'll get blood all over it anyway." Zoro said in an annoyed tone.
"...yes sir."
Zoro's face scrunched up at that as his face burned a little hot.
"Don't call me that. It's Zoro." He snapped at you half heartedly.
With all being said, Zoro led you to the lounge area, which sat at the back of the ship. While grabbing the railing to walk up the steps, you pulled back and grit your teeth when what felt like a splinter snagged itself into your open flesh.
You go to pull the piece of wood out, only for a voice to snap at you.
"C'mon. Don't mess with your cuts until we get in the lounge." He said, looking back despite not seeing too well in the dark.
You complied, this time not touching the railing as you walked upwards.
As soon as you both entered the lounge, Zoro turned to you and cussed under his breathe after catching sight of your visible hands.
"I cut you pretty damn bad. Stay here."
He left the room quickly, leaving you in an awkward silence as you studied your own hands.
Your rough, scarred hands had new wounds added to them. The cuts were smooth, something that could easily heal, but the depth of the cuts would be a problem you concluded. You eyed the splinter launched in the exposed meat and with care and patience, grabbed the tip of it with your other hand, slowly pulling the intruder out of the pulsing mess of blood and skin.
Despite the obvious pain of removing the splitter, there was this euphoric relief. The wound throbbed and burned, but it became a more comfortable and dull sensation.
The door opened, snatching your attention away from the cuts on your hands. Zoro walked in, glancing at your ands before dropping the kit he had in his hand.
"What the- did you pick at it???"
You stared sheepishly at the moss headed man, who snapped at you once more.
"Dumbass!!!"
Zoro stomped over and grabbed your hands, inspecting the damage before releasing your wrists again.
"We gotta wash it a little." He sighed while brute forcing the kit open. He dug into the kit in search of something before he looked at you with a confuzzled look.
"What the hell are you sitting there for? Wash your hands there, idiot!" He pointed to the sink in exasperation.
"Yes sir."
"Oi! Stop calling me that!"
Zoro wrapped your hands tight in gauze and medical tape, slapping your hands away when you tried to do it yourself.
"Both of your hands are injured. You're in no condition to wrap these yourself." He excused despite you stating that you had worse.
Once he was done, he looked over your hands, subconsciously rubbing a thumb over a long healed scar that was located on the back of your hand.
While you allowed him to inspect your hands, you couldn't help but notice how little focus he was giving the recent injuries given by yours truly.
He grumbled something that you couldn't make out, before he removed his own calloused hands and sat on the other chair he leaned his swords against.
"It's done. Tony can look at it tomorrow..."
You nodded, ready to stand up and leave to finish what you started before Zoro stopped you.
"That means go to bed."
"...I was?" You said as you made a funny face.
The man scoffed at you narrowed his eyes.
"You're a terrible liar. Less convincing than the long nose."
You didn't have time to answer before Zoro pointed to the door with his thumb.
"Go to sleep. We can worry about the hunk of wood in the morning... or afternoon. Seeing that you chose to stay up late." He snarked.
You opened your mouth, about to speak when he stopped you.
"And don't call me what you're about to call me."
"Call you what, sir?"
"...go to fucking bed." Zoro hissed.
'How troublesome' he would think as he watched the (h/c) head towards the room that Sat between Nami's and the boy's quarters.
He didn't think they would cause issues so soon...
And he didn't think he'd give a shit so fast...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sorry for the rough start, fellas. I've lost my touch lmao.
I wanna do a slow burn type of deal where the yanderes slowly turn yandere, some slower/faster than others.
I'm not gonna make it painfully slow, don't worry, it'll maybe at least a few weeks or a month for the characters before they become yanderes.
No hate at all to other fics that do this, but I'd like to think the obsession isn't within the first second they meet. If that's the case, then they may as well randomly grow attached to everyone they meet lol (but that's just me. Just a lil nit pick.)
But anywho, I'll be making the aftermath of this fic.
Goodnight 🌙
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