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#i've had this in the back of my mind since i learned his last name and now i have to inflict it on all of you
unoriginalbun · 6 months
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Inspired by this meme:
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bumblesimagines · 25 days
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i care about you. more than i'd like to admit.
Daenerys Targaryen
i care about you. more than i'd like to admit.
Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader
doesn't really follow canon, Dany doesn't marry Hizdahr
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Part of him had expected to be executed right then and there in the fighting pit, after all, he'd thrown a spear in the direction of the Targaryen and nearly impaled one of her knights. His victory in the pits had been shortlived afterward, with a swift order to throw him in the dungeons for an 'attempted assassination' where he'd be thoroughly questioned. A few hours had seemingly passed since then, and he kept himself busy by napping against the rough stone walls and hearing the groans and moans of fellow prisoners. The door at the end of the corridor opened with a loud whine and his eyes parted, hearing heavy footsteps walking right toward his cell. 
"Are you certain he is who you say?" A woman's voice asked, light and youthful. The Targaryen, perhaps, or possibly the advisor girl who trailed after her everywhere. He hardly cared about Meereen's newest ruler, much less had time to learn anything about her and her people.
"Yes, Your Grace. My eyes have yet to deceive me." A man answered, his voice lower in pitch and withered by age. The knight he'd almost killed, no doubt. (Y/N) almost snorted. He must've bruised an ego or two by accident. 
"Very well." The woman responded and the dimly lit corridor brightened with the light of a torch. The man holding it appeared to indeed be the knight if the scowl on his face said anything. (Y/N) hummed and shifted slightly to face the newcomers, his eyes trailing from the knight to the young woman standing beside him. Her long silver hair cascaded down her shoulders partly pulled back into braids and framing her oval face. The ends of her dress had grown stained from the walk through the corridor, the light blue now a dark shade of brown, but she hardly seemed to mind or notice. 
"Will I be killed by fire or eaten by one of your... 'children'? I always wondered how that'd feel like. Horrible, probably, but at least it beats drinking yourself to death, aye, Gaz?" The prisoner across from his cell made a low grunt of acknowledgment, uttering a frail curse directed at him. (Y/N) grinned and the knight's eyes narrowed further.
"You are in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, the first of her name, Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, the Mother of Dragons, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the-" 
"Queen of Meereen would've done fine, Ser. Don't waste your breath on the rest." (Y/N)'s interruption only seemed to fuel the knight's irritation further and he opened his mouth again, likely to bestow some sort of lecture upon him before Daenerys Stormborn raised her hand to silence him, casting a thankful look over her shoulder at him and stepping closer to the cell. 
"Do you have a problem with my titles?"
"You rule Meereen, no? You should, uh, shorten it to Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, first of her name, Queen of Mereen, the Mother of Dragons, and the rest of it. You are not Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, Daenerys Stormborn. House Baratheon sits on the throne, though last I heard, those fools were fighting each other."
"And from what I've been told, those fools were your brothers. I'm sorry for your losses, I know what it is like to lose two brothers." Daenerys hardly sounded apologetic, although he hardly blamed her. His brothers, especially Robert, were difficult to like. "But if rumors are to be believed and if your last brother, Stannis, falls as well... it will make you Lord of Storm's End." 
"And those who believe the rumors about Robert's wife believe you are the next in line for the throne. Yet, here you are, fightin' in pits like an animal and sittin' in dungeons. What happened to you, boy? Everyone's been searchin' for you." (Y/N) tore his eyes away from them and stared at the wall in front of him, his lips twisting and jaw clenching. He'd been the last born, the last son of Lord Steffon and Lady Cassana Baratheon. He wondered what they would've thought of the messes their sons had created for themselves. Two were dead, the other lost his mind, and the last one fled home before a marriage could've been thrusted upon him.
" I suppose I am already Lord of Storm's End, seeing as Stannis believes himself to be King. If you have come here to ask for my support, you will be disappointed, however. You can hardly rule Meereen. How will you rule the Seven Kingdoms? You've been away from court for years, Daenerys Stormborn. You have no right to the throne unless you take it as my brother did, and even then, those who survived King Aerys will fear having another Targaryen as ruler. You will have to work harder than Robert to win the trust and loyalty of any noble." 
"Sounds as if you know quite a lot about ruling. I am in need of another advisor, Lord Baratheon. Perhaps, you could fill that role."
Daenerys's room had the best view in Meereen with its large balcony showing the large expense of the city and the breeze that flowed in, keeping the room cool even on the worst days when the sun shone down on them relentlessly. (Y/N) enjoyed the view, and especially enjoyed the breeze, although he hardly had reason to leave the Great Pyramid after having been ordered to remain inside unless accompanied by a loyal servant of Daenerys. At least her distrust in him had lessened tremendously over time.
"(Y/N)," Daenerys sighed, nuzzling her cheek against his shoulder and opening those dazzling eyes of hers to peer up at him. "Tell me more of Storm's End." She said softly, her fingers trailing down his arm until she found his hand, intertwining their fingers together. (Y/N) chuckled, resting his chin atop her head and feeling her silver strands tickle his skin.
"Well, as the tale goes, the Storm Kings ruled the Stormlands for millennia until Aegon's Conquest when he sent his commander, Orys Baratheon, to battle with the last Storm King. Orys won the battle and took the late Storm King's daughter as his bride thus becoming Lord Paramount of the Stormlands. Since then, Storm's End has been ruled by House Baratheon." (Y/N) recounted the history that'd been engrained into his head from the moment he could understand language. Baratheons had always been proud of their history, of their ancient lineage. He tilted his head, lips brushing over her hair and pressed against her forehead. Daenerys smiled. "Why are you interested in Storm's End, Dany?"
"Because..." She trailed off, eyes flickering away briefly. She moved slightly, peeling away from his side to instead straddle his lap, her bare chest pressing against his. "Because I care about you. More than I'd like to admit. You are not the man I thought you'd be. You are... incredibly vexing and arrogant but you are intelligent and a just man. I have been... thinking... about what was said that night in the dungeons. Ser Barriston is right, as are you. I have much to learn, but I believe with you at my side, we could rule the Seven Kingdoms together."
"Dany-"
"I know you care about me, too. I know Kings Landing will accept you as their king and any other children we have will rule over Storm's End, just as your family has all these years. I spoke with Ser Barriston, I asked for his advice and he gave his approval. We could wed, whether in Targaryen custom or Baratheon, and rule the Seven Kingdoms."
"Wait, wait," (Y/N) exhaled, sitting up further and delicately cupping her face in his hands. "Any other children?" Her features softened, her lips forming a gleeful smile. She leaned back, away from him, and peered down at herself, her hand coming to lovingly rest on her belly. 
"Missandei and I believe I am with child, (Y/N)."
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sentientcave · 23 days
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Retirement Party
Chapter 5 - Wouldn't It Be Nice?
<<First Chapter - < Prev Chapter -
Contains: No Y/N, Kidnapping, Forcible relocation, Dubcon, Plus-sized Reader/OC, female Reader/OC, John introduces Doll to some normal people, Everyone learns new things about each other, Manipulation, PTSD, Doll has a tragic backstory, Doll is kinda sorta Catholic? Who knew (me I knew)
~3.8k - MDNI - Dark fic! Please mind the content warning above but honestly this chapter is pretty mild all considered.
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Ghost, Soap and Gaz come back a few hours later with the blue sports car (a bit scratched up, but tail-light repaired) and a pick up truck that looks a lot like the one John had before, but a generation older, and green instead of gray. John speaks to them briefly before he coaxes you into the truck and drives off, promising that the others will be gone before you get back.
He drives a few miles down the road, and pulls up in front of a little farmhouse. It looks idyllic, children and a dog playing in the yard. Two people on the porch wave, and John hops out and circles around right quick to open your door and help you down.
The couple trots up to greet you both. "Who's this?" The woman asks, looking at you and beaming. "You finally introducing us to a girlfriend?"
"Doesn't feel like the right word, does it, doll?" John winks at you, like your circumstances are all just a funny little blip, nothing nefarious or terrifying about it.
"No, it doesn't," you agree, keeping your face carefully neutral. "I'm Dalisay. Nice to meet you, um, Melissa, right?" You stick your hand out and shake hers. There’s no sense in being rude to them, just because they know John. He’s probably smart enough to keep his old life, and his boys away from his new one as much as possible.
"The very same! We were a bit worried John was going to be an eternal bachelor. Nice to see he's found someone." She introduces her husband, Rob, and her kids, Hannah, Haley and Jackson, who are ten, seven and five, respectively.
"Do you want to see the puppies?" Haley asks, grabbing your hand. Jackson grabs the other one and they pull you along to the garage, not waiting for an answer. You very deliberately don’t look over your shoulder at John, because you’re fairly sure that he’ll be looking back at you with a sickeningly hopeful expression. His comments from last night still ring in your ears, and you’re not willing to indulge that foolish fantasy of his.
The puppies are in a play pen with high enough walls to contain them, but still allow their mother to hop in and out. She hops out to inspect you, sniffing your outstretched hands warily. Her tail starts to wag after a moment, and you give her a proper pat, smiling. The dog has soft ears and a silky, black and tan coat, but you're not sure what type of dog she is.
"What's her name?" you ask, kneeling down.
"Bonnie-bell," Hannah says. "And our other dog is Charaid."
"Proper Scottish names," you say. The kids all have a slight burr, and although Melissa sounds scouse, it's the first hint as to where you are.
"Da said we was gettin' too English, livin' in London," Haley says. "I like it better here anyway. Mum says maybe we can get some coos. "
"I grew up near Aberdeen," you say. "But I've lived in Manchester too long. Lost my accent."
"No' far off, then, aye? We're only about an hour and a bit south and west," Rob says, appearing at the open garage door to supervise. His stern face looks friendlier now that he knows you're not proper English. "Was worried John dragged some poor city girl out'f England to live out here."
You hum. "Well, I am something of a city girl now. Been in Manchester since I was seventeen."
"Weel, welcome home then," Rob says with a wink. "We'll get ye proper re-acclimated soon enough." He leans over and plucks a puppy out of the sleeping pile inside the pen, and hands it to you. The pup is at the age where its somewhere between looking like a potato and a proper dog, maybe six or seven weeks old. "Gordon setter, by the by," he says. "Good dogs."
"Cute too." You settle the puppy in your lap, petting its soft little head. Bonnie-bell licks your wrist and hops back into the pen to lay down next to the others.
"Ye want one? This girl's no' spoken for yet. John's been hemmin' and hawin' about it, but I figure he wouldna want ta leave ye home alone, neither."
"Oh, I'm not sure I'll be staying that long. I'm only here because there was an incident at my apartment and John wouldn't hear of me staying anywhere else." You're not certain why you're stretching the truth to fit around what he and his wife think is happening, but you have no idea what John would do if you did say something. Maybe he would laugh it off like you were making a joke, or maybe he would snap. You don't really think he would hurt these people, but there's a wide-eyed prey animal in the back of your mind that warns you to be cautious, to be careful.
"We'll talk about it," John says from behind you. You hadn't even noticed his approach, with the noise the kids had made when they dashed back outside. "I'm trying to convince her to stay."
"Ye've gotta buy her a ring, ye daft bastard," Rob says, laughing. "A good catholic girl isna goin' ta wait for you ta get yer head out'f yer arse."
"If you don't, I'll introduce her to some lads in town that will," Melissa threatens. "Pretty girl like her has better options than you, old man. Better make your move before she realizes it." She swats John on the arm playfully.
You laugh nervously, touching the little cross around your neck absently. The puppy in your lap seems to sense your discomfort, because she starts wiggling in your arms and trying to lick your chin, little tail wagging. John kneels down beside you so he can pet the puppy too, eyes creased with a smile. "Is that it, doll? You need me to buy you a ring?"
"John," you say warningly. "We don't need to talk about this right now."
"No, I suppose you've had a rough morning. I'll try again later."
"You're impossible."
"Think you might kind of like that about me," he says.
"Not remotely. I think you're an awful, stubborn man," you tell him. Your voice comes out softer and sweeter than you intend, like you don't really mean it, even though it's true. The smile around his eyes grows deeper.
"I am." He picks up the puppy and holds her up in front of his face. "What do you think, girl?" he asks. The little dog's tail wags furiously, and she answers with a high pitched yip. And then she endears herself to you by trying to bite John’s nose. He looks stunned for a moment, but he grins when you start laughing. “Guess we’re all in agreement then,” he says, setting her down in the pen and standing up.
You accept his hand up, and quickly put a little distance between the two of you, before he anchors you to his side with a solid arm, or tries to reel you in close for a kiss. Rob and Melissa invite you in for a cup of tea, and somehow you end up sitting at a dining room table that’s obviously mostly used for crafts, and handed a piece of blank printer paper by Haley, and told by Jackson that you should draw dragons with them. The walls of the dining room are filled with tacked up juvenile masterpieces— Dragons seem to be a particular fixation of Jackson’s, whereas Hannah and Haley have more varied portfolios.
John stands leaning in the door to the kitchen, talking to Rob and Melissa quietly enough that you can’t quite pick up his words over the children’s chatter. You hate him a little for this, dangling Rob and Melissa’s idyllic little life in front of you. The implication is obvious. We could have this, his blue eyes seem to say when you look his way. Wouldn’t that be nice?
It’s frustrating, and confusing. You want to keep him at arms length for your own safety, but he’s already doing his best to roll right past your doubts and better judgment, like they’re just silly barriers between now and the future he’s dreamed up for the two of you.
And worse, you do want it.
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“Didn’t know you were an artist,” he says on the drive back. Jackson had been so excited about the dragon that you drew for him that he’d shown his parents and John.
“There’s a long list of things you don’t know about me,” you say.
"For now. We'll get there, sweetheart."
You hum, looking out the window. Spending time with the Stuarts has you wistful and homesick for something you can't get back. Days like this, you'd usually pour yourself a glass of wine, look through your family photo albums and have a good cry before going to bed early. It's been a while since it's caught up with you like this, but you'd always been reliant on your routine, burying grief in structure and familiarity. "Do we need to?"
"I'd like to."
"I'm not going to be what you want me to be."
John drums his fingers against the steering wheel. "What is it that you think I want?"
"Some little housewife. Someone soft and sweet to come home to."
"You seem plenty soft and sweet to me."
You sigh, pulling your arms around yourself. "I'm not consistent. I don't know what Johnny told you I was like, but he only knows me from work. I'm not like that all the time."
"I don't expect you to be."
"You say that now, but you'll change your mind."
"I'm not stupid enough to change my mind based on a bad day or two, doll. You're allowed to be upset. I wouldn't blame you if you spend the next week slamming doors and snapping at me. I'm still going to like you." He puts a hand on your knee and squeezes gently. Men like him shouldn't be allowed to have such attractive hands, and you shouldn't be attracted to hands like his, scarred knuckles, a few fingers broken and healed crooked. You know he's killed people, know it would be so easy for him to kill you. It turns your stomach that you feel any kind of desire for him at all.
Men like him are no different than the ones that killed your parents. Dealing death is not a noble trade, there's nothing honourable about exporting violence.
You push his hand away, and keep your eyes trained on the window.
He sighs, but he doesn't press the issue, just clicks on the radio to fill the silence.
When you get back to his house he sets you up in a cozy room down the hall from the more open main space where the kitchen is, an office of some kind with a couple of arm chairs and a desk with a clunky looking laptop set on top. The room smells kind of smoky, but you're just glad to have a door you can close while he "moves some things around". He opens the laptop up so you can watch something, but you just curl up in one of the armchairs and fall asleep.
When you wake, the door is open, one of your blankets is draped over you, and there's a mug of tea sitting on the desk, alongside a couple biscuits. You uncurl, your muscles stiff and joints cracking from not moving for too long, and pick up the tea. It's cold, like it had been left a while ago, but you drink it anyway, and eat the biscuits. There's a note underneath, explaining that John had run out to the shops, and that he'd be back by 18:00. You shake your head, and check the time on the laptop. 18:00 exactly.
Military habits must die hard. You imagine he’s usually prompt too, so you wander out into the main room, and put the clean dishes in the rack away. You realize that the living room side has been rearranged, condensed to a slightly smaller footprint, with some open space left by the far corner behind the bigger couch. The smaller leather sofa has been replaced with the little red love-seat from your apartment, and your T.V. is sitting on it’s familiar perch on the refinished credenza that you’d painted twining vines and little red flowers up the side of. You’d found it on by the curb on the Kinsey’s street a few years ago, and your friend Ripley had bused over and helped you carry it all the way back to your apartment.
You’re not sure you like seeing more of your things merging into John’s house, like any of it belongs there when you still want to insist that you’ll be leaving soon. You hate him for being presumptuous, but you can’t help but think it’s sweet, too, that he makes space for you so readily, that he’ll happily include your painted flowers and colourful blankets and bright red couch into space that was all his just twenty four hours ago. That he would leave you tea and biscuits for when you woke up, that he would tuck a blanket around you while you slept. You’re not used to someone wanting to take care of you, and it feels strange.
Strange, but nice too.
You glance at the clock on the wall, realizing that it’s twenty past six, and John still isn’t back. It’s getting darker out there, the sun nearly setting, and as much as you try to tell yourself that you’re not worried, it’s hard to deny the stab of relief when you finally see the truck's lights pull up the wooded drive.
You slip on your trainers and step outside as he parks. He grins at you around a lit cigar as he hops out. “Did you miss me, doll?” he asks, insufferably smug.
“Your note said you’d be back at six,” you say lamely. “I just wasn’t sure if you’re usually on time.”
“Usually am. Got caught talking to Wells, down on the corner. Seems someone drove right through his fence last night. Teenagers, like as not. I’m goin’ to help him fix it tomorrow.”
“Oh.” You grimace. He must know it was really you. “Sorry about that.”
“No harm. By the sounds of it, you’re quite the driver. Soap said you nearly ran him off the road. That what they teach these days?”
“Defensive driving is well and good, but offensive driving gets you the last good spot in the lot,” you say.
He laughs out loud at that, and leans over to pick up a big paper bag from the passenger side. “Here, can you take this in while I grab the groceries?”
You take the bag (which is slightly greasy and smells like curry), and shift it to one hip. “Can I take anything else?”
He nods and hands you a second paper bag, this one with two wine bottles inside. “Wasn’t sure if you liked red or white, so I got both.”
You settle the bags in your arms and turn to walk away. “Bad time to tell you I like rosé hm?” you tease, glancing over your shoulder.
“Terrible timing. But that’s alright. One more thing, doll.”
You turn back toward him, and he’s right there. One big hand cups your jaw and then his lips are on yours, pressing a kiss that tastes like smoke against you. You stand frozen, holding onto your cargo for dear life, too surprised to do anything. It’s just as well, because in that moment you’re not sure if you’d slap him or pull him closer.
He pulls away without trying to deepen the kiss, which is a relief. You’re certain that you’d drop dinner and the wine.
“John, that wasn’t fair.” Your feet are still frozen in place, and his hand is still on your cheek, his fingers threaded into your hair.
His eyes practically sparkle. He’s entirely too pleased with himself. “Not fair because I kissed you, or not fair because I stopped before we got to the best part?”
Your cheeks flame hot, and you pray that he can’t feel it. “You can’t just— You’re impossible.” It takes concentrated effort to take ordinary, measured steps to the door instead of running. The effect he has on you is apparently very obvious. He never would have tried it if he didn’t know you were teetering on the edge of giving in already.
Boundaries need to be set-- Set and followed-- before you can really even contemplate letting this get any further. Unchecked, you have no doubt that John will have you underneath him in a matter of days. Once that happens you know he'll never let you go, and you'll never have peace of mind if you don't really get to know him first. You know he's not as good as he makes himself out to be, but you suspect he's a better man than your deepest fears might whisper to you. He's genuine about his wants, but that's not enough. You need to know him before you can trust him.
You set your packages down on the table and turn to open the door wide for John as he carries a tote full of groceries into the house. “Thanks, doll.”
The paper bag rips when you open it to pull take-out containers out, setting them on the table neatly. "John, can we talk?" You ask, glancing at him as he stows things in the fridge.
"Course, doll. What's on your mind?"
Nerves threaten to choke you, so you take a steadying breath, in and out, trying to quiet the sea of dread that pitches back and forth in your stomach. “You can’t just take what you want from me. Not if you’re serious about wanting this to be something. I’m afraid of you, John, and I’m not going to fight you. If you push me, I’ll fold, and I’ll hate you for it.”
He pauses, holding a box halfway lifted to the cupboard. It takes a moment before he moves again, setting the box on the shelf slowly. The silence is palpable in the room, settling across both of you like a thick blanket of snow. You fold the ripped takeout bag flat, nervous, the crinkle of heavy paper hardly breaking through the rush of blood in your ears, the panic that grips you by the throat. It’s as though the admission has given your body the chance to catch up with everything that’s happened in the last two days.
You’d been drugged and taken from your home, you’d been handed off to someone you didn’t know, with no clear indication if you’re free to leave or not, you’ve been picked up and manhandled and shot at.
Darkness flickers in the corners of your vision. All you can hear is the pounding of your own heart, the sick, dizzying drums of war, and high pitched ringing like a flat-lining hospital monitor, and screaming, and the rapid burst of machine gun fire. No. The screaming you hear is just in your head, the gunshots aren’t real, they can’t be. It’s not happening, it’s over, it’s been over for a decade, you’re safe.
Except you’re not safe.
Hands land on your shoulders. You lash out, fists striking something solid, knocking the hands away. You have to get away, you have to hide until it goes quiet again. Arms wrap around you in a tight hug, stilling your thrashing limbs and bringing you down to the floor gently.
“Doll! Dalisay, sweetheart, you’re alright, come back.” The voice has authority. You know that voice. It rumbles, shaking loose memory. “Come on, love, breathe slow. You’re okay.” You breathe in, warm spice and tobacco smoke, not burning petrol, not scorched flesh. You’re kneeling on the floor, and John is holding you tight, thighs bracketing yours.
The fight melts out of your limbs.
You’re not safe, but you’re not in danger either. John loosens his hold on you and cups your face, his worried face eclipsing all else. “Doll, where’d you go?” he asks. “What happened?”
“Panic attack,” you lie, because that’s easier to say than My parents were killed in a terrorist attack while we were visiting London ten years ago and sometimes I get so stressed out that I forget it’s not still happening. “I’m fine, I’m sorry.”
“That wasn’t a panic attack, doll. Worked with Simon long enough to recognize PTSD. You were somewhere else.”
It’s hard to imagine that Ghost is as fallible, as human as you are, but you suppose there’s no shortage of opportunities for even the the biggest, toughest military men to to wade hip deep in trauma. The worst day of your life would be just another mission for them. The worst day of their lives would probably kill you outright.
"Yeah, I guess it was," you admit haltingly. "Everything just caught up with me. I won't let it happen again."
He shakes his head. "Did I set it off? I need to know— I don’t want to hurt you, sweetheart.”
"No, it's not like that. It’s just stress. It's been building since I got here."
"I guess that's what you meant in the truck, huh?"
You nod weakly. "I don't think I can explain it any better right now. But maybe tomorrow."
"Alright." John sighs, some of the tension in his shoulders releasing. " I don't want you to be afraid of me, doll."
"Then you're going to have to give me time, and space. I need to know what kind of man you are. And you should get to know who I am too.” There’s a wrinkle in his shirt, so you fixate on that rather than look right at him, smoothing it out with your fingers. “Let’s worry about becoming friends, for now. And then we can see if there’s something more.”
He doesn’t like that, you can tell by the way he pulls his hands back, reluctant to let go of you. But still, he nods, and smiles ruefully after a moment. “Guess I’m not as patient as I think I am. Too eager to get to the good part.”
You laugh lightly, the sound shaky from frayed nerves. “John, if we can be kind to each other, and come to an understanding, then it’s all the good part. You can’t build the things you want on foundations like this and hold it all together with sheer force of will.”
“You sure about that?" he jokes, trying to lighten the mood. "I’ve heard I’m pretty stubborn.”
Your eyes flick up to meet his. You still feel unsettled, your heart still pounding, your stomach still roiling with anxiety. The emotion in those blue eyes is something you can't identify, something fathomless that strikes you with a foreign kind of fear, the kind that's shot through with hope that you shouldn't feel.
“You don’t know me too well yet, John,” you say gently, “but so am I.”
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Image Credits: Banner
Dividers: 1 - 2 - 3 by @/Cafekitsune
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madlori · 9 days
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If the only thing you can lord over buddie is that bucktommy is canon, then you really didn't care at all about the ship.
7 seasons of being a family unit, being there for each other, having each other's back but hey! Here comes another underdeveloped love interest, but since it's a man this time, you don't care about Buck being stuck in the same hamster wheel, again, because he's kissing a man and that's hot 🙄
Also for all your doom and gloom about buddie not happening, do remember that Tommy/Eddie was an idea in Tim's mind at first, so Eddie can be read as queer, even if it's not in canon yet.
I guess you don't place much value on them being a family unit and always there for each other, and having each other's back...all of which is still true and will continue to BE true. But it's only important to you as a prelude to them kissing, right? It has no value in and of itself. I love their relationship. I love what they are to each other. But YOU are making me not want to see it, because every time they turn to each other, lean on each other, support each other, we have to listen to you shrieking BUDDIE CANON CONFIRMED or whatever, because to a certain genre of shipper (not all buddie shippers, etc) any interaction or feeling they have with each other exists only in service to the ship.
I swear to god, I'm gonna banish the phrase "hamster wheel" from y'all's mouths until I get an actual definition as to what you think it means, because from where I sit, to you it just means "he's with someone who's not Eddie." To me, it means that Buck continually fell bass-ackwards into relationships that weren't right for him, looking for something he wasn't even sure what it was. And heyyyyy, he's currently in a relationship that he actively chose and fought for, having learned something new and important about himself, with someone who makes him giddy and excited in a way we have never seen him be, who the people around him can see gives him contentment. But none of that matters, because it's not Eddie, and that is by definition his only appropriate partner, so he must still be on that hamster wheel. Also if we're going by creator intent here, Tim's said he wrote this relationship specifically to reflect Buck being off of it.
As for underdeveloped love interest? I wrote an entire ass essay about how MUCH we know about Tommy, and it's reams compared to anything we've ever known about Buck's girlfriends OR Eddie's current girlfriend who does not even have a last name. Tommy has been introduced in a way that integrates him with the 118, with multiple interests, a character arc of his own from his first appearance, a set of motivations and emotional arcs that are NOT about Buck, and something to actually offer in a relationship besides existing. Anyone saying he's underdeveloped is determined to read him as such, especially for the limited amount of time we've had him.
And I never said Eddie couldn't be read as queer. He can EASILY be read as queer. I said he WOULDN'T be. Those are two different things. If Tommy and Eddie had gotten together (which I give no more narrative weight to than Maddie and Eddie getting together, which was also a gleam in the eye at one point) I'd equally be saying that Buck would never be queer.
It's hilarious to me that I'm being accused of liking a ship because it's hot (it is, and I do, and that's...fine? there's nothing bad about that?) as if people enjoy Buddie because of the amorphous purity of it all and not at ALL because it's hot (it is and you should say so).
If my thoughts about this are so upsetting to you, just block me, dude. I promise I won't take it personally.
Also, just...learn to enjoy a ship whether it's canon or not. I've done it, we've all done it. It's not that hard, especially THIS ship, which has so much good stuff to it regardless of whether there's romance or not. Those of us who like Buck with Tommy are not taking away from you enjoying Buddie, or anyone doing so. It's not like...the State of Buddie will lose congressional representation if the population falls below a certain level. The existence of another ship does not affect yours.
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penkura · 16 days
Note
hey! how are you?
hope you're doing well :)
I wanted to ask, If you could pretty please write a one shot about Sanji and reader, I'm watching the Zou arc now, and I really want to know how it would be If reader was with him in the moment he finds out about the marriage and leaves the note, she would cry and beg him to stay or something, you can decide If they were already in a relantionship or not.
Anyway feel free to ignore it if you don't want, and take care of yourself <3
PS: sorry If something got wrong, english it's not my first language.
Omg the Zou arc, pain with Sanji geez. I'm so happy for this request tho, I've not written this scenario before! I had an idea for their relationship as soon as I read your message too, so I hope this is what you were looking for! I kept it open for a part two if you'd like later on as well! I hope you enjoy it!
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You and Sanji had been close ever since Luffy recruited you shortly after him. Something about the blond had just drawn you in and he was glad to entertain you and spend his free time with you. Even when you’d sit and watch him cook in total silence, Sanji welcomed it, he was happy to have company and someone to listen when he started talking out loud about what steps were next. You learned his most common dishes so well that you were able to rattle off the directions yourself, causing Sanji to become smitten with you quickly.
You’d fallen in the same way, after spending time with and getting to know Sanji. Despite his perverted tendencies at times, you found yourself drawn to and falling completely head over heels for your crew’s chef. He kept somethings about his life before meeting Zeff from you, the most you knew was that he was one of five children and from the North Blue, you didn’t dare pry too much farther. You didn’t want to push him away and ruin the friendship you’d built with him, especially once you realized your feeling for Sanji were more than just friendly.
Not like you’ll ever tell him, if you have it your way. You weren’t going to make things difficult for not only you and Sanji but your whole crew too. You’ve become content to just admire and pine after him, no matter how many times Nami tells you to just say something to him about your feelings, you refuse to do so. You won’t make things awkward, not when everyone is focused on their goals and now looking towards taking down an Emperor of the Sea in Kaido.
“The main event is a wedding,” Bege takes out an invitation and opens it for Sanji to see, “Between the third son of the Vinsmoke family and the 35th daughter of the Charlotte family, Pudding.”
You were content until this new development. A tea party invitation and requirement from Big Mom, a wedding to a girl he’s never met, the last name he’s never once told you about. You just believed he didn’t have one, like Nami or Usopp, it didn’t matter to you if he did or didn’t. He’s Sanji, he’s not this Vinsmoke Sanji. Your mind is reeling as he flat out refuses the invitation, while your crewmates shout their disbelief at this situation, you can’t even seem to join them. Everything moves so fast, the next thing you know, one of Bege’s crew members has whispered something to Sanji that’s got him going rigid, being getting a pen and piece of paper to write something down. You don’t even notice fully that he’s taken and ripped a piece off it, ignoring the looks he gets from the others around, wondering what he’s doing.
While Sanji slips the note he’s written to Nami, you try so hard to finally speak but the words won’t come out. He can’t leave, he just can’t! He’s so important to your crew, to Luffy, to you, Sanji can’t just go off and marry some random girl he’s never met! It’s not fair, even though you’ve never made your feelings known to him, you have no claim on Sanji. You’re able to get back into focus as he speaks to you all again when he hugs you.
“Please know, I never meant to keep anything from any of you.” He grips your shoulder just a bit tighter than he has before, and that’s what finally gets you to speak.
“Sanji, wait! You…you can’t go! I…I lo—”
He stops you with a smile and placing his hand on your head, nodding just a bit. “I know…but don’t worry, I’ll come back…and then we can talk, okay?”
You don’t believe him, even as he forces the four of you out of Bege’s castle, giving everyone a smile and promising to be back later. He’s never lied to you before, why shouldn’t you believe him? You have every intention of running after Bege as he goes to escape, but Nami reminds you that it’ll be pretty hard to do anything when you’re still chained up like the rest of them. Even after the Minks free you, you want to go after them, but she stops you again, with a hug that finally makes you start to cry over not being able to stop him.
At least, until you feel the scratch of paper on your shoulder and realize that’s what he was doing, when Sanji gripped your shoulder tighter. He was slipping you a note separate from everyone, now you can take it and see what he was telling you that he kept from everyone else. You don’t read it until you’re back to the room you and Nami are sharing thanks to the Minks, and all it does is make your heart ache and feel like you should’ve done more, because now you truly don’t believe he’s coming back.
No matter what happens next, I love you. I’ll tell you in person when I come back.
You’re going to help Luffy get him back, your mind and heart are decided.
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lilacstarx · 14 days
Text
Unread Letters To The Emperor
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SERIES MASTERLIST
Emperor Blade (Yingxing) x Empress Reader
Chapter two: The Bottom
Word Count: 1312
WARNINGS: mentions of vomiting, ALOT OF TIMESKIP, reversing time, making a deal/gamble, death!, reader is describe “you” in this fanfic, reader’s parents doesn’t have a name here, OOC, again your responsible of what you read (also scalegorge is in its prime)
The night was cold, an uproar of thunder could be heard from afar, but that wasn't the main focus. Blade was sprinting around Scalegorge looking for one person.
Dan feng.
He was led to a room where guests and visitors are entertained, but instead of sitting, he paced about the room.
Reading the rest of the diary felt like he had been hurt right from the heart. What made his fury rise was the letters.
Why did you exchange letters with Jingliu, and why are there multiples, each being sent to a different place?
Infact how did you know the grandmaster.
—Letter sent: two
Should I refer to you as Grandmaster or Lady Jing Liu? Anyway, I questioned a few people who you are, and some shared a pretty disastrous review about you, but who cares, I'd like to know you myself.
I am sure there is a reason why you came up to me, and I interpreted your letter. I look forward to meeting you in a better setting.
-Letter sent: five
I apologize for the delayed response, Lady Jing Liu. Things have been stressful here at the castle; how are you doing?
I'd certainly like to send you some tea made from the herbs I've been growing. I'm hopeful it'll help with the mara.
——
Only two letters remained in your diary, while the rest are lost, including letters from Jingliu.
A twinge of shame rushes through him; if he knew you and paid attention to you, he may have known the things you do.
"Lost in paradise, your highness?" A voice interrupts his thoughts, a voice that claims that I told you so
“Its rather late at night”
“Can you reverse the time?”
There was a moment of silence between the two. Blade was just a few inches away, his face full of guilt. 
"Take anything, my empire, the money, my soul, just bring her back into my life" the emperor broke down, perhaps caused by grief.
The Vidyadhara could only stare at the emperor; in truth, he wasn't surprised, and Dan Feng felt pity for you. He shared a couple cups of tea with you, observed as your eyes shone brightly at the aroma, and gently thanked him for bringing flowers for you.
The emperor did not deserve you; he may have been friends with you since early years, but he will not tolerate the things he has put you through.
“Had a change of heart, your majesty?” 
"I want her back, you heard it the first time" the emperor whispered yelled, peering through the vidyadhara.
Dan Feng groaned and moved closer to the emperor, "Your wish was granted the moment you stepped here, but I will not tell you what I took from you”
The rain poured heavily, hitting the window blade seemed like he plunged into an unending abyss. That was the very last thing he saw.
He groaned as the sunlight shined on his face. Blade rose up and looked around the room, familiarizing himself and attempting to remember the year.
Looking at the room and the design, he chuckled to himself. What could go wrong with meeting you sooner, right?
After all, he learned.
———
Your father burst open the dining hall door, making you and your mother jump in surprise, a sweat sliding on his side of the forehead.
"Father, are you okay?" You looked like you saw a Ghost" you asked, uncertain of what was going to happen.
Your mother frowned, ordering the maid to get her husband a glass of water while making her way to your father to settle him down.
“Ready to speak your mind, husband? ”
Your father looks horrified with a letter in his hand: “The Emperor requested that our daughter be his wife." 
The room fell into deep silence. The clock ticking felt like it was mocking you, asking you to count your days until arriving in hell.
It was no secret that the royal family was strict and possibly toxic because it was formerly ruled by a tyrant, as you learned from your teacher.
What could the emperor possibly want from you, and what was his deal in choosing a bride from a foreign planet?
You cleared your throat, removed the napkin from your lap, and approached your father, "What was his highness's reason?"" You asked, seeking to find out the reason for it.
As far as you can remember, you haven't attended any parties, left the planet, or done anything that would make you stand out to the nobles, so how could he know you?
The last thing you remember is your father securing a business deal months ago, but it failed due to canceled meetings and transactions that did not include you, and your father was a professional businessman.
"That's it, my child" your father sighed, touching his temples as a headache seized him, "it just said he wanted to meet you”
"Then it must be a scam" your mother tried to lighten the situation, hoping for the best that this was only a nightmare.
"It's not it had the emperor's seal it was personally delivered to me earlier by the general jing yuan” your father cried out, reaching out your hand caressing patterns from your hand to reassure you and cherishing your warm hands.
“Father i am willing to take the chance-“
Your mother cuts you off, telling you that it can be a major decision and that you don't have to feel rushed. "We will find a way to-"
"Mother" you said, focusing into her eyes, "if we refuse, who knows what will happen? Can we genuinely run from the hunt?"
"I understand it's a crucial step, but what about the blood and sweat that father worked for?" You claimed that it was a difficult decision, but it could also help your family and join into the side of the alliance.
For that, you're ready to take the initiative. "Besides, if he doesn't pick me, it was worth a shot, and we'll still benefit from it”
"My dear, what is the point if we forfeit? I did this for you because I want my daughter to be free. Getting involved with high-class individuals is another ruckus.
"Father, believe me with this one. What could go wrong?"
———
The xianzhou loufu appears unsettling however a familiar air hits you as if you've been here before. Could it be merely the vibe of the place that feels cozy due to the old style?
Nonetheless, you shrugged it off, following the handmaid who had been waiting for your arrival and accompanied you throughout your stay.
She brought you to the garden, which was lovely. You had a sight of a unique plant, presuming your vision saw the proper thing and did not betray you, but who wouldn't.
The garden was filled with rows of roses and a fountain. It was huge and you could definitely get lost in it. You shook off your thoughts, focused on your walking.
And then there he was, the emperor at the courtyard, drinking tea and listening to the birds chirping. For a moment, your body froze just by looking at him.
A wave of Deja vu
What was worse, a shudder ran up your spine, hands sweating as the handmaid pulled the chair for you to sit on. You bowed your head to the emperor, who was studying your movement like a hawk, before thanking the maid.
She then bowed again before leaving the two of you, with the cloud nights following behind her, leaving you and the emperor in privacy.
Your hands were quivering, and a feeling of sickness seized you, making you want to vomit and run away.
You repeated deep breaths at your head before finally making eye contact with the the emperor who was already eyeing you.
This was gonna be a long day.
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Note
IBDIJEUIDJBEYAI
I JUST HAD A BIG BRAIN MOMENT!!
Kitten surprising Min with her old school uniform and a lil role play. His mind is racing from the skirt and the memories and he can like touch her how he always imagined her
-🥝
you're so absolutely right, kiwi. this was a humongous brain moment.
i've had this ask in my inbox since mid-august bc i just had to write something I HAD TO since it stirred something within me. thankfully, i recently figured out how i wanted to go about this, and finally got to writing it💜
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Pairing: Werewolf!Minho x Human!F.Reader (one of the main pairings of my WereRoomies series, but you probably don’t really need to read any of the other instalments to understand this one, although it's highly recommended!). | Word Count: ~3k | Themes & Warnings: Supernatural/Fantasy AU · Smut · Fluff · Established Relationship · role-playing as high schoolers (disclaimer: they’re both consenting adults fulfilling fantasies of their past, neither are genuinely attracted to minors in any way) · nipple play · unprotected penetration [piv. no barrier method, but reader is on birth control] · a smidge of a breeding kink · cumshot · barely proof-read as it usually is with these “drabbles”...
minors do not interact.
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“Min–Minho…”
Oh, how sweet you sounded when you said his name like that… It was just how he’d dreamt it’d be. He’d heard you before, of course. But not in this situation, in this particular setting…
“My dad could be home anytime now–Oh, shit…” Your words got caught in your throat the second he bit one of your nipples. How could he not, when you were on his lap, with your uniform shirt open, and your bra just down enough for him to play with your chest.
“Shh, it’ll be fine, kitten”, Minho mumbled against the swell of your breast, leaving a love bite that he hoped would be visible when you wore one of your low tops. “If he were to come home, you know he doesn’t bother us when we’re doing our homework…”
You whined as soon as his mouth reattached to your nipple, as he gently rolled the other between his thumb and index finger… Your hands buried in his hair, keeping him close while you rolled your hips to find some friction against his crotch. The pressure had his mouth salivating further, borderline drooling all over your nipple like the dog he’d recently become.
Or, at least, in this fantasy, he had probably been turned a few years prior…
When you and Minho had come to your father’s house today to help him clean up some of your old stuff from your childhood room, Minho certainly hadn’t expected for the afternoon to take him right here. To him sitting on the edge of your bed, dressed in his school uniform, with you sitting on his lap, and dressed in your school uniform.
It had been such an impromptu thing… You found the pieces of clothing at the bottom of your dresser, forgotten from the last time you wore them in your final year. Back then, you always kept a spare change of Minho’s uniform for those nights when he unexpectedly stayed over.
‘Ohhhh, you should put it on. I used to love how the uniform looked on you’, you’d told him as you handed him the dress shirt with the school’s logo on it, and the white vest top he used to wear under it.
‘Alright, but only if you put on yours. The whole thing. I also loved how you looked in that uniform’, he’d told you immediately, because it was the truth. That plaid skirt and the white button-up used to make stellar appearances in his teenage-hormones-driven wet dreams. 
He used to feel embarrassed about it. You were his best friend in this world, and the fact that he found himself daydreaming of how it’d look like if he took a peek under your skirt, or how it’d feel if he buried his face in your cleavage, certainly made him feel guilty.
Now, as an adult well into his twenties, after you both shared your affections, he no longer felt as guilty about it. Especially after learning that you yourself had those thoughts about him back then, too.
When you put on that uniform shy of fifteen minutes ago, Minho was reminded of all those thoughts he used to have, of all the sleepless nights and hidden chubs at school… It hit him then that maybe this was exactly why he loved seeing you in skirts so much in present day. A result of his teenage-self’s never fulfilled desires.
Sure, he couldn’t button his shirt since his shoulders and arms had broadened with age, and your skirt was certainly much shorter than it used to be, but that didn’t stop either of you from falling into your roles.
‘Mmm… It’s almost like we have just come back from school and are getting ready to get some work done’, you chuckled as you looked at yourself in the mirror and adjusted your thigh high socks.
That sentence alone lit up the bulb in his head, it sparked a naughty little idea that he knew you’d either entertain or laugh about. Either result was fine by him, so he had no qualms when he walked behind you, and looked at you through the mirror.
Calling your name as he placed his hands on your waist, Minho had asked you to turn around to face him. ‘There’s… there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you for so long… Please don’t be mad…’
Minho feigned nervousness, like he was once again that boy that had seemingly unrequited feelings for his best friend.
‘I really, really like you… Can’t stop thinking about you. How’d it be like to kiss you, to feel you close in ways other than platonic. You’re my best friend, and I cherish that deeply, but I just… I like you so much’, funny thing, how those were pretty much the same words he’d wanted to say to you back then. Words he had practised in front of the mirror a few times, but he was always too much of a coward to actually tell you.
You looked at him in what Minho figured was feigned shock. Oh, how he loved you… You just knew him so well, and knew exactly what he was doing without saying a single word. ‘I… I like you, too. Have liked you for so long, Minho…’
Minho had cupped your cheeks and pulled you in for a kiss. He kissed you as if he’d never done it before, desperately, hungrily, no time for being tender and soft when all he’d wanted was to devour you whole. And you had retaliated, of course. You’d pulled him close by the collar of his shirt and pressed your chest to his, kissing him with fervour.
‘Even if I’m… If I’m now…’ A beast, was what he wanted to say as he spoke between kisses. Minho had maybe fallen a little too well into this role of his younger self. He could still remember how insecure he used to be about his condition, how he looked down on himself after being infected with this goddamn lycanthropy… Those were feelings that no longer existed within him, he had now long since accepted this was part of him. If anything, with time, he’d embraced it. 
‘I’d like you even if… Even if you were a worm’, you replied simply, making him giggle, which in turn made you giggle.
Minho scooped you into his arms after that, and he walked the remaining steps to your childhood bed so he could sit on it with you on his lap. In no time, he was groping you over your shirt, under your skirt, and you had started to beg for him to touch you more.
His instincts were stunted, you knew that, he knew that, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have this animal side to him. Sometimes, especially when he was horny, that animalistic side of him took over his logical mind, and, back when he was a teen, he could recall having a harder time with certain feelings and emotions like these. So, he let them cloud his reason a bit as he fulfilled this little fantasy of his…
Minho ripped your shirt open, the buttons flew all over your room, and you gasped when he buried his head between your breasts. The thing was also a bit too tight on you, so he was sure you wouldn’t miss the garment if it got ripped a bit in the process.
You scrambled to take a hold of his hands, bringing them to your chest so he could fondle you over your bra, once again begging him to touch you. To ‘Please, please, Minho, touch me. I need it. I need you…’
And he was sure his cock was about to pop out of his jeans with how hard it got at your desperation.
So here you were, grinding into each other, on your childhood bed while Minho feasted on your tits.
“Fuck, that feels so good, baby. Harder. Do it harder…” 
How could he deny you when you sounded so needy? When he’d wanted to do this for so long? 
He bit harder, pinched harder, pulling strangled sounds of pleasure out of your lips. The more attention he gave to your chest, the more you rolled your hips against him, effectively pulling sounds of pleasure out of his lips.
His senses were flooded by you. The smell of your arousal on your lavender scent, your weight of him, the taste of your skin on his tongue, all combined had him almost delirious, especially when his free hand found its way under that godforsaken skirt of yours to tightly grope one of your buttocks.
“Baby, I think I’m… I might…”
Fuck, if you came just from him playing with your chest and you grinding your cunt on the tent in his jeans, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to contain himself. Although, he supposed coming in his underwear would’ve been a very accurate representation of what would’ve happened if his teenage self had ever had the opportunity to have you on him like this…
Minho couldn’t help but groan when you tightened your grip on his hair, when you started to roll your hips faster, harder… God, all he wanted right now was for the girl of his dreams to come, he needed to feel you trembling in his hold, to drown in your scent so he could convince himself this was happening.
Seeing you come, holding you tight while you did, was just absolutely delightful. You bit on your fist to keep your moans contained, while your whole body shook with your release.
Minho had to make the conscious effort not to blow right then and there. He was sure that if this had happened back when you were still that young, he would’ve certainly done so. He imagined that this would’ve probably been your first sexual experience together, that you’d laugh about how he soiled his underwear and how needy you’d been, before you laid down and cuddled for a bit…
Maybe you would’ve had sex a different time, on a different day where you were sure your dad wouldn’t come back home… But this wasn’t about being fully realistic, this was about having fun while fulfilling a shared fantasy.
“Fuck, Minho, baby, stop… I’m sore…”
Minho finally pulled himself away from your chest, mumbling a very unconvincing ‘Sorry’ before he attached his lips to the pulse point on your neck, relishing how fast your blood was pumping in your veins.
“You’re so fucking hot, my kitten. I’ve been dreaming of this moment, y’know?” He mumbled in your ear, taking one of your breasts in his hand to fondle the flesh, with special care to not stimulate your nipple too much.
“Me too, baby…” You were still trembling occasionally within his arms, taking deep breaths to get your racing heart to slow down inside your chest. “I’ve wanted this so bad… Even… Even touched myself thinking about it”.
“Mmm, fuck…” Minho started sucking love bites on your neck, following this faint need in his gut to leave his mark on you. “Have you?”
“I have… Sometimes, I did it while we slept in the same room”.
Minho wasn’t sure if this was you playing your fantasy, or if this was a real thing that happened, but, being honest, it didn’t matter. It made his mind disconnect completely as soon as the words came out of your mouth regardless.
Before he could even register it himself, he had stood up and thrown you on the bed, eliciting a shaky, surprised gasp from your lips. In a second, he was on you, kissing you hard, messily, even desperately. Your limbs wrapped around him, your arms around his neck, and your legs around his middle, bringing him further down to lay flush against you in your heated kiss.
He was dizzy, lightheaded, and for a second, he almost believed he was in the past, that he was making out with you on your bed after school, that he was about to lose his virginity to his best friend.
“Fuck, I need to put it in…” Minho barely detached his lips from yours while he spoke, just kept messily kissing you between words as he ground his hips to your core. “Please, please let me put it in… Need you…”
“We–we need a condom, Min”, your hands found their way under his top, where they settled to caress his back, making him shiver. “I don’t have any here”.
“Fuck, I don’t have any, either”, Minho left your lips to instead attach his own to your collarbones, to nibble on the sensitive skin, making you whine. “I’ll pull out. I got quick reflexes, it’ll be fine, please…”
He certainly was playing into this horny-teenage-boy thing all too well. Although, he was sure his younger self wouldn’t have been this stupid to believe just ‘pulling out’ would be an effective contraceptive, and surely neither would you. After all, back then, your dad made sure you both knew about being safe, which Minho was grateful for to this day. 
Regardless, the very real implant you had in your arm made it so he could play like this, so you both could play like this.
“Shit, you’ll pull out?” Your hands trembled when they found his backside and squeezed him. “You would, wouldn’t you?”
“Promise, kitten. Cross my heart”.
One of your hands left his bum to move to his crotch, where you cupped and squeezed him and overall felt him over the fabric of his jeans. He couldn’t help but buck his hips to let you feel as much as you could of him. “Fuck, okay. But Min… I’m not sure this will fit…”
“It will. I’m sure it will. It has to. You trust me, no?”
With a deep breath, biting your lip, you nodded. “Trust you with my life”. 
When Minho pulled himself away from your hold, he just had to tell you how fucking gorgeous you looked with your hair all messy, your tits out, your ripped shirt, and that fucking skirt… The hem pooled on your belly, exposing your underwear and the mouth-watering wet-patch on them.
God, he wanted a taste… But there wasn’t enough time for that right now.
Minho hastily unbuttoned his jeans, pulling them and his underwear down just enough to free his length. You swore under your breath, taking him into your hand and spreading the pre-cum that had beaded at the tip so you could easily stroke him. 
“Baby, please…” You guided him to your core. With your free hand, you pulled your underwear to the side, and dragged the tip of his cock all over your folds. “Need it. Need you, Minho…”
One day you’d be the death of him, he was sure. 
Under normal circumstances, Minho would’ve stretched you open with his fingers, he would’ve made sure you were absolutely ready to take that annoyingly big alpha cock of his. But he figured skipping the step would be a bit more… in character.
“Oh, fuck, fuck…” Minho pushed himself into your heat slowly, letting your walls adjust to his length with what he hoped wasn’t much discomfort. He knew that if there had been any, you would’ve said the word that would immediately stop everything you were doing. “That’s so fucking tight…”
You whined, not necessarily in discomfort, but in that way that made him know you were feeling impatient. Wrapping your legs around his hips, you tried to push on his backside to get him to get in already. “Please, I need it all. Now”.
“Shit–!” As soon as Minho bottomed out and had propped himself on his forearms, you took a hold of his hair and pulled him down for a messy kiss.
There was just so much spit. Everything was so sloppy and messy and he was honestly enjoying it way more than he ever thought he would.
“Fuck, you’re so hard… Can’t believe you fit”, you mumbled breathlessly against his lips, releasing his hair to place your hands on his back.
“Didn’t doubt–Shit, if you keep clenching like that I’ll come, kitten… Didn’t doubt I’d fit right in. Isn’t this cunt for me? Hm? Hasn’t it always been?” Minho didn’t even give you time to respond, he just started to thrust, a borderline animalistic pace that had you biting on his shoulder to muffle your moans.
There was nothing but heavy breaths and desperate groans and whines and moans… Nothing but the sound of skin slapping against skin and the headboard hitting the wall and your nails sinking on his clothed back…
Minho vaguely realised he was growling with each thrust. Like an animal. He was making all these sounds like the animal he was. And every time he did, your body just immediately reacted. Either by clawing at his back, or biting harder on his shoulder, or clamping hard around his length…
It was honestly driving him crazy. It reminded him that, ultimately, you accepted him, that you loved him just as he was. What an odd, but pleasant reflexion to make when you both were fucking, and pretending to be your teenage selves at that.
“It–It is”, you meekly mumbled after a while, and Minho, a bit puzzled, pulled himself away from your neck to look you in the eyes. “It’s yours. Has always been. I’ve always been”.
Minho swore loudly, throwing his head back once your words registered properly in his hazy mind. Your cunt was his, you were his. You’ve always been…
That reassurance, coupled with the vice grip of your walls, got him so incredibly close…
“Fuck, kitten, gonna come. Need to–need to pull out”, Minho was panting, drunk on the pleasure he was feeling and the fog clouding his reason.
Your legs tightened around his frame, keeping him as close as you could while he kept thrusting into you. “What if–What if you don’t?”
“Oh, God… Don’t say that…”
“Why? What if I want your puppies? Hm?”
He was going to die. Minho was sure he was seeing the gates of heaven open up right in front of him.
“C–can’t. We can’t…” Shaking his head, Minho tried his best to hold back, a titanic effort with how fucking good you were making him feel, with how fucking in love with you he was.
“Can’t…?” There was a pout on your lips, highlighted by your blown pupils, and Minho, once again, shook his head in response.
Minho just desperately shook his head. “Kitten, baby, please…”
The hold of your legs relented. Minho immediately straightened himself and pulled out of your warmth to take his cock in one of his hands while the other gripped your hip tightly. One, two pumps and he was groaning deeply, coming all over your underwear, over your mound and your now only partially exposed folds.
The sight was nothing short of exquisite. Your wrinkled, open shirt, your tits still falling out of your bra, with your nipples slightly puffy after all the attention Minho had given them, the skirt hunched at your waist, and your underwear drenched in his cum… 
Minho felt light, satisfied, and, as he tried to catch his breath, he just took you in.
After a few moments of silence–silence, save for the sound of your heavy breathing and the ringing in his ears–a grin made its way to your face, and, a second after, you broke into laughter. It made him laugh, too. Maybe uncontrollably so.
“Oh, that was awesome”, you chuckled, wiping the tears that had collected in your eyes at your outburst. “So good”. 
“Totally agree”, Minho leaned into you to press a brief kiss on your lips before he left the bed to find a face towel from your dresser to clean up the stupid amounts of cum that had come out of his stupid monster cock off of your body.
“‘Suppose it was a good thing that my dad isn’t coming until very late today. It would’ve been seriously awkward to explain what was going on if he found us… Well, like this”, you started shrugging your shirt off as soon as Minho had finished cleaning you up, and proceeded to work the couple of buttons on your skirt.
“I don’t think he would’ve appreciated the sight, to be honest”, Minho chuckled, getting out of his shirt and vest top as well to put his t-shirt back on and do his jeans. 
As soon as you two were dressed properly and in clean clothes, you both laid back down, unbothered by the soiled sheets. Minho simply pulled you into his arms, and pressed a brief kiss on your forehead before he hugged you close.
“Kitten…” Minho mumbled against your hair after a while, dragging his hand up and down your back in a gentle caress. “Was that true?”
You absentmindedly traced patterns on his chest, shapes that he could’ve sworn were hearts and stars. “Was what true?”
“Y’know… that thing about… About you touching yourself while I was in the same room…”
You pulled yourself away from his hold a bit so you could look him in the eyes. A smile came to your lips, right before you started opening your mouth to speak.
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lnfours · 6 months
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inclinations (mirrorball) | l.n
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summary: a story told in two parts: summer and autumn. summer held the whirlwind romance that came crashing down too soon. autumn brought the repercussions of young love and learning how to fall in love all over again.
au: childhood friends to lovers, uni!au
warnings: fluff, some subtle hints at what's happening with flo if you squint, a little bit of angst if you squint, language, things are getting... interesting.
masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter | listen
₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊
"so, how was your night with my brother?"
the question you had been avoiding all morning. flo had you sitting at her vanity, the various styling tools sitting on the surface in front of you as you watched her concentrate.
you hummed, "was alright," you said, "how was yours? can't ask me to keep lando and then not tell me who you had over."
your teasing smile reflected back at her as she matched it, furrowing her eyebrows, "some guy that's been in my dms, that's all."
"oh, come on!" you laughed, "what's his name? what's he like?"
she shook her head, "it was just a one night thing, i don't know if i'm going to see him again."
you could tell she was bluffing, but you decided not to press about it any further. if she wanted to tell you the details, she would've by now.
"back to you, though," she continued, "what happened last night?"
you shook your head, "nothing."
"please, he was literally beaming when he got home last night," she said, "and you're glowing right now. something had to have happened between the two of you."
you sighed, your phone buzzing on your lap. you tapped on the lockscreen, almost immediately locking it again when you saw the name pop up in your notifications.
lando.
you looked back up in the mirror, meeting her eyes in the reflection as she smiled softly at you, "we uhm... we kissed."
she gasped loudly, "you kissed!?"
you licked your lips nervously, it wasn't like she was unaware of the whole situation between you and lando, but it still felt awkward to tell her you were slowly falling in love with her brother, "yeah,"
"oh my god," she smiled, "finally! i've been waiting for this for so long."
you laughed with her, "me too, flo. me too."
your phone buzzed again against the skin of your thigh. you looked down at the screen again, another text from him lighting up.
lando
good morning ☀️ see you soon?
you were quick to type back a response, telling him you'd see him downstairs in a few. he put the thumbs up reaction to your text before you locked it once again.
you weren't sure why, but you were nervous all over again. something about him made you giddy and nervous and brought out the grade-school-like crush you've had on him since you were old enough to realize boys didn't actually have cooties.
once flo was satisfied with how she styled your hair, she smiled in the reflection next to you. you both smiled at each other, another happy summer with your favorite people. there wasn't much to complain about.
you two walked down the stairs, arms linked. you smiled as max and landos' heads immediately whipped to look at the staircase upon hearing your footsteps. they stood from the couch, lando's eyes meeting yours as you stood in front of him now.
flo walked over to talk to max, the two laughing as lando's eyes took everything about you in, his way of memorizing this exact moment. his way of silently wishing he could take pictures with his mind.
"you look," he paused, trying his best to keep from falling on his knees and asking you to marry him then and there, because he would, "absolutely beautiful."
your head tilted towards the floor, smiling as you brushed a piece of hair behind your ear, "thank you, you look beautiful, too."
he laughed, the uneasy tension now turning to dust, "thank you."
you smiled, watercolored eyes meeting yours before max put an arm on his shoulder, "mate, let's eat. 'm starving."
lando nodded towards his friend, offering you his arm. you smiled, holding onto his forearm as you followed flo and max into the dining room. everyone smiled and bid hellos upon your entrance into the room, your mom getting up to give the kids she considered her nonbiological children hugs.
the brunch was perfect, as always. the food cisca had made was delicious, mimosas perfectly topped off each time, and good conversation, as always. just like it had been every year for as long as you could remember.
"lando, i heard you're living in monaco," your mother smiled, "how is it? you like it?"
he nodded, swallowing a sip of water from his glass, "love it. it's great, can't wait for you guys to visit one day so i can show you around."
you smiled at the boy next to you, your mother speaking for you, "we'd love to, honey."
"oh, y/n," cisca smiled, "how's new york? still okay?"
you nodded, "i mean, it's definitely still growing on me," you joked as everyone chuckled softly, "but it's been great so far. my roommate is awesome, i'm having a really good time."
she nodded, smiling at you with bright eyes, just like her son had smiled at you multiple times in the past, "i'm happy for you, love."
you thanked her, all of you helping clean up the table once everyone decided they were full on all sorts of breakfast foods. you were in the kitchen, helping your mom wash the dishes when lando's figure appeared in the doorway.
you smiled over at him, "yes?"
he nodded towards the back door, "wanna go for a walk?"
you turned back to your mom, but she was already reaching for the plates in your grasp as she smiled, "go,"
"you sure?"
she rolled her eyes playfully, laughing, "yes! now, go!"
you smiled as you followed him out the back door and onto the patio. he led you down the steps of the deck, you kicking your shoes off as the two of you walked towards the beach.
he took your shoes from your grasp, slipping his free hand into yours as the two of you trudged through the sand, "do you want to go on a date?"
you smiled over at the curly haired brunette, "a date date?"
he nodded, "yes, a date date," he laughed softly, "'re you busy tomorrow night?"
you shook your head, turning to stand in front of him. the sun was bright against the ocean, the waves crashing against the shore peacefully. his eyes were bright in the natural light, the silver of his necklace glimmering in the july sun.
everything right here, right now, was peaceful. for the first time in a long time, you were content, perfectly content with life. nothing in the world could ruin this for you.
"i'd love to," you smiled, "pick me up at 7?"
he nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, "sounds good, love."
your heart fluttered at the nickname. you weren't sure why, it wasn't the first time he'd call you 'love' before, but this was a different way. it was a way you had been dreaming about since you were kids, since you met the curly haired brunette boy with an accent and freckles and moles that littered his face in a pretty way.
his hand moved from behind your ear, the other one placing your shoes in the sand before reaching around the back of his neck. you watched him with furrowed eyebrows as he unclasped the hook to his necklace.
it slipped away from his collarbone as he smiled softly, moving to wrap it around your neck instead. your eyes met his blue ones again, green flecks sparkling in the summer sun as you questioned him, "lando?"
he hummed, clasping the chain with two rings around your neck, your fingers reaching up to touch the cold metal, "i want you to have it?"
"why?" you laughed softly, still unsure about what he was trying to do and why he was giving you the necklace you had given him all those years ago.
"do you remember the note you wrote when you gave it to me?"
you thought back to the little slip of paper you slipped into the box before wrapping it up and sticking a little bow on the top for his birthday.
"two rings intertwined," you smiled.
"just like our souls," he smiled back at you, "no matter how far apart we are, i want you to remember that."
you wrapped your arms around his neck, "have i ever told you that you're perfect?"
he chuckled, his snaking around your waist now, "i'm far from it."
"not to me," you shook your head, a smile still on your face, "you're everything."
he smiled, a smile you'd do anything to be on the receiving end of forever. the same boy who would do anything for you, all you had to do was ask.
you stood on your tiptoes, your lips meeting his sweetly as he pulled you as close as he could, leaving no room for air in between your bodies.
he pulled away, his forehead resting on yours, giggles escaping both your lips. he reached into his pocket, pulling out his buzzing phone as he excused himself, walking away to answer the phone.
you smiled, reaching up to absentmindedly play with the rings sitting perfectly against your beating heart, the one you were slowly starting to think only beat for him.
he looked over at you, almost a sad expression on his face as he talked to the other person on the phone. you sent him a questioning look before he hung up the phone, making his way back over to you.
you took his hand into yours, the two of you walking through the sand, "everything okay?"
he nodded back at you, "yeah, everything's good."
you believed him, nodding as you held onto his forearm, resting your head on his shoulder as the two of you walked back towards the house. you missed the way he licked his lips nervously, the loss of sparkle in his eyes and the soft sigh he let out when he thought about the fact he was going to have to leave once again.
or the way his heart broke slightly at the thought of him catching a flight early the next morning. he wasn't sure if he had the heart to tell you he was being dragged back into his busy life again. how could he? he just showed up and all of a sudden has to disappear again? he didn't know what to say or how to say it.
you caught onto his silence as the two of you approached the house, "you sure you're okay?"
your concern was the icing on the cake, "i have to tell you something."
you furrowed your eyebrows, the two of you turning to look at one another. you held his hand loosely in yours, giving him a soft smile, "what's up?"
"we have to reschedule that date," he sighed, "i won't be here."
you shook your head, confusion etching your facial features, "what do you mean? you're on summer break, right?"
he nodded, "supposed to be, but they want me back in england for some trainings."
"well, you'll be back, right?"
he looked away from you, shaking his head, "i don't know."
"but you just got here," you said, "they seriously can't let you have a little downtime?"
"you know my schedule isn't normal," he sighed, "you of all people i was hoping would understand."
"no, i do," you sighed, "it's just, we just figured out everything and all of a sudden you're getting shipped halfway across the world. i just, i don't get it."
"i know," he nodded, reaching out to place his hand against your cheek, "but, i'll call you every chance i get, okay? we'll make it work. promise."
you believed him again, nodding your head and leaning into his touch, "okay."
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kitasgloves · 4 months
Text
"You are in love"
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event masterlist
— ♬ "And you understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars. And why I've spent my whole life tryin' to put it into words"
— ♬ Kuroo x Reader, timeskip, SFW, fluff, gen reader, high school friends to lovers, no beta
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One look, dark room, meant just for you. Time moved too fast, you played it back. You see buttons on a coat and remember a lighthearted joke, back then it had no proof and it was not much but you saw enough. When you were younger, you had trouble making friends. You used to believe that there was something wrong with you and that nobody was willing to stay and play, for a long time you coped with that. Being alone. Until high school went up and changed everything.
You didn't originally want to go to Nekoma High, you were aiming for Fukurodani Academy or even Itachiyama Institute. But you ended up going to Nekoma which you admit you hated at first. You had the potential to be in more prestigious schools in Tokyo but at least you ended up in one of the higher class sections during your first year. In terms of academics, there was no hassle. You went through every homework, classwork, presentation, and even group activity like a breeze. However, in terms of social life, you offer nothing but silence.
You couldn't connect with anyone in your class, they were kind people but there was no one who you see willing to open up to you and vice versa. It felt like your childhood and middle school all over again, you always ended up alone. But you were fortunately wrong. It was a fateful day during lunch and you were eating alone when you spotted a shadow over your head. And you saw him, feline-like eyes and bedhead hair. He offers you an eager smile.
"Mind if I sit here with you?"
He asks and you nod. He sits across from you and pulls out his lunch. He looked taller and older than you. The way he behaved around you told you how he was comfortable with approaching strangers, and you stopped eating.
"You're Kenma's seatmate, right?"
"Oh, you mean Kozume-san?"
"Yep! He didn't go to school today, he got sick"
"You know him?"
"We're childhood best friends, we sorta tell each other everything. I'm Kuroo Tetsuro, by the way"
"[Name], [Name] [Surname]"
Kuroo seems so eager to get to know you. Your first lunch shared with Kuroo left you perplexed, you're convinced it was only a one-time occurrence. But it repeated, again, and again. For months until the entirety of your first year. You and Kuroo became friends, something you never anticipated. You two became so close that it felt natural. By the time you reached your second year, you and Kuroo were inseparable.
He convinced you to join the boys' volleyball club as manager. Kenma became the witness to all your shenanigans with his childhood best friend. Because of Kuroo, you changed. You've learned to open up to people, you've become the person you are today thanks to him. Your friendship with Kuroo got you through the hardships in high school up until graduation. The two of you remained close after he left for college and the beginning of your third year. You and Kuroo consistently kept in touch until it was your turn to leave Nekoma for college.
You haven't heard from each other ever since and you've made a new life while in college. You gained new experiences, new friends, and new challenges to overcome. Even if you and Kuroo drifted apart, there wasn't a day that you don't wonder where he is right now. By your last year in college, you began to miss him. To miss the memories you had with him in high school. Watching movies, playing video games with Kenma, volleyball practice, and having sleepovers. You had a major case of nostalgia when you went through your photos back at high school, there were polaroids of you and him on his graduation that never fail to make you tear up.
College ended as your career started. You found a good job that paid enough to sustain yourself, that's when you began trying to reconnect with Kuroo. You also found out that Kenma became a YouTuber, rising in popularity. All it took was a quick DM to his Instagram account and you got Kuroo's contact number. Apparently, he works at the Japan Volleyball Association within the Sports Promotion division. Something you knew he would definitely pursue. 
It was close to midnight when you contemplated calling up his number, a million scenarios flooded your head. He could be already asleep, he probably doesn't know your number, or maybe he has already forgotten you. Your chest goes tight at the last thought. But you suck in a deep breath and dialed Kuroo's number. You held your phone against your ear and stared down at your Polaroid picture with him in your hand.
"Hello?"
You hear his voice in the line and your throat goes dry. It felt like your heart stopped beating but began racing after realizing the weight of the situation. You let out a shaky breath.
"Hi, Tetsu"
"...[Name]? Holy shit [Name] is that you?!"
He sounds so excited and it causes tears to well up in your vision. You let out a relieved chuckle knowing Kuroo hasn't forgotten about you. Immediately, you and him began talking and catching up on each other's lives. There was a brief exchange of apologies for letting the years go by without keeping in touch, but there were no grudges held and all was forgiven. 
"Where is your place? I'll pick you up, let's get coffee"
"Sure"
It began snowing outside as you wrapped yourself in your warmest clothes. You waited in front of your apartment complex and saw a car pull up minutes later. The windows roll down and your heart leaps out of your chest. It was Kuroo Tetsuro, your high school best friend. He was grinning at you like he always did back then. He kept his signature bedhead hair and the only difference was he seemed to look more charming than he was during high school. You smile as he opens the door for you.
You sat in the passenger seat in quietness while smiling at each other, it truly felt like nothing had changed. Small talk and he drives. You two grab coffee at midnight. You and Kuroo stood against each other under the snow, sipping on coffee and laughing. The lampost light reflects the chain on your neck, Kuroo's eyebrows raised.
"Look up"
He says, and your shoulders brushed. It was no mistaking it. You were still wearing the necklace he gave you on your eighteenth birthday. You couldn't tell if the cold made his ears red or something else. No proof, one touch. But seeing Kuroo slide closer to you made you feel enough.
Something has changed, you couldn't point out what it was but something wasn't the same with you and Kuroo. The two of you spent a whole month making up for lost time. If it was possible, it seemed like the two of you became even closer. Perhaps closer than him and Kenma but felt way more different. You began noticing the shift in your and Kuroo's relationship one morning when you woke up at his place after spending the night before drinking. You smell burnt toast in the kitchen and it was a Sunday. You keep his shirt, and he keeps his word. And for once, you let go, of your fears and your ghosts. One step, not much. But it said enough.
You feel the change transform you and Kuroo uncontrollably. This felt nothing like high school anymore. Kuroo was getting closer and closer each time and you always let him. You've never felt so comfortable with anyone in your life. This is proved when Kuroo and you began kissing on sidewalks. You knew you'd never find someone like Kuroo in your life, so whenever you two would fight, you two would always talk.
However, everything comes into full circle one night when Kuroo wakes. He spent the night at your apartment and slept beside you. You stirred awake and you see the strange look on his face. He looks at you deep into your eyes, you gaze back with bated breath. He pauses.
"[Name], you're my best friend"
He says. And you knew what it was, he was in love. He's in love with you. So you instantly leaned against him and shared a long gentle kiss. For a long time, you felt like you two were dancing in a snow globe 'round and 'round. And now he keeps a picture of you in his office downtown. And understand why you spent your whole life trying to put it in two words. But you can hear it in the silence. You can feel it on the way home. You can see it with the lights out. You didn't see it back then but now it becomes crystal clear; you're in love, true love. You're in love with Kuroo Tetsuro.
"I think I fell in love with you the moment you gave me this necklace for my eighteenth birthday"
"Oh, really? Well, I think I fell in love with you when I sat with you for lunch back at high school for the first time"
"You're lying"
"No! Ask Kenma! I just didn't know it back then. But now, when you called me up after what felt like ages, I knew I didn't want to be in love with somebody else"
"Ew, cheeseball"
"Look at you, being so in love with me"
"As if you aren't more terribly in love with me, Tetsu"
"I wouldn't want it any other way, darling"
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©kitasgloves (do not steal or copy)
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jnnul · 1 year
Text
five questions
a/n: and here is the first of the wips! i know this was supposed to come out on friday and now it's almost wednesday but it's out and that's worth something, right? i hope you love this little fluff piece + mark as much as i do!
word count: 5.1k
tags: finance bro mark and y/n, slice of life, mostly fluff, kinda your typical suburban modern day couple, idk they’re just good ppl who experience a slow and sweet romance, oh! and mark sucks at beer pong
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sorry, is this seat taken?
you pride yourself on not being a very superficial person. you always look deeper into a person of interest and in the past, your friends have made fun of you because you never seemed to find the people they thought were attractive very hot at all.
he seems like he swears at his mom. they give off the impression that they are rude to waitstaff. i don’t care how hot she is, she’s literally fighting with a customer service worker for no reason.
did it mean that your ability to look past superficial identity led to you giving some pretty sketchy people second chances? maybe. but usually, it did more good than harm.
but for all of your in depth thinking, you realize that you’re just as superficial as every last one of your friends when the man of your dreams asks you to marry him.
what he really says is, “is this seat taken?” but it all sounds the same when you’re half in love.
with dark eyes that are bright and shine with innocent curiosity, slender lips with a slight pout, and tousled black hair that falls into his eyes, you realize this man looks like nothing short of an angel.
you stutter out a squeaky, "no, go ahead!" before moving your laptop a little closer to you so that the hot stranger could have space to put his things down. he offers you a sweet smile before sliding into the seat next to you.
"my name is mark, by the way," he says once he's settled into his seat. he's about to ask your name but he nods to the keychain that's attached to your lanyard. "i'm guessing your name is y/n? that's a cute keychain."
"yeah," you say, flipping the keychain so that mark could see it properly. "one of the kids i teach made me it a couple years ago and i've carried it around ever since."
mark's eyebrows furrow at that as he checks his calendar to make sure that he's in the right class. "you're an education major? what's an education major doing in a business statistics class? this class is an upper level business class i thought?"
you nod and close your laptop so that mark could see the sticker on the backside of your laptop. you point out the biggest one that has 'ucla - anderson school of management' written in bright yellow letters. mark's eyebrows knit as he reads it and you can't help but laugh softly at how utterly confused he looks.
"i'm a finance major. i just really like kids so i spent last summer juggling between an internship at apple and volunteering at a learning summer camp for kids who are underprivileged in education," you explain, watching as mark's confusion turns to awe, his dark eyes glinting as you explain.
"damn. that's so cool of you, y/n. i'm sorry i assumed you were an education major. turns out you're just an angel instead," mark says, almost offhandedly. you freeze at the last sentence and immediately, mark's ears turn bright red as he realizes what he had said.
you to turn to face forward as mark rubs the back of his neck awkwardly and if you weren't so damn flustered, you would take a picture of how incredibly cute he looks.
mark had pretty privilege, as far as you were concerned. if any other person said that, you would probably just laugh it off and thank them but a single comment from mark had you blushing and internally combusting. the worst part? you didn't even mind it.
the two of you are silent for another couple minutes before you turn to him once more, a corner of your lips tilted upwards, a teasing look in your eyes.
"you know i definitely don't mind being called angel by a pretty boy," you say casually. you try not to let your voice give away how nervous mark actually makes you but there's still a little shake when you say the word 'pretty'. because really, mark was so pretty. just...too pretty to be good for your heart.
it doesn't really matter though because mark looks at you like you've personally put the stars in the sky.
"you think i'm pretty?" mark says, his voice soft and tentative. you look at him strangely. surely he had heard that many times over the course of his life? why did he sound so surprised?
"i think you're very pretty, mark," you say matter-of-factly. mark wants to say something else but everyone has filed in and it seems as though the professor is starting the lecture soon as the lights begin to dim in the hall.
mark has heard that he was attractive many times before. in fact, he'd probably become synonymous with the word handsome, as his superlative in high school was 'most likely to become a famous singer' and 'most likely to win prom king'.
so why did his heart flutter so much when you called him pretty?
can you help me with this one?
turns out, mark is shit at statistics. he's great at the business part, as you have learned over the past three weeks of sitting next to each other and working on the practice problems together. but the actual statistics? you might as well be working with a victorian child.
"i still don't understand why you can't just assume that this condition applies in all scenarios," mark says as he reads through the question once more. the two of you had grown pretty close over the past month or so, and often, you would go to the library after class to work on the assigned homework or projects together.
mark was a good study buddy (he always brought good snacks) and he had a great work ethic that made you feel guilty about not studying when he was. not to mention that he was gorgeous eye candy to look at whenever you needed to take a break from your work.
which was pretty much all the time if it meant looking at mark lee a little while longer.
your friends had teased you when you described your encounters with mark thus far. although they never really crossed the line between platonic and romantic relationships, just the fact that you were practically dying of anticipation was enough to rile your friends up.
you had had a few partners in the past but most of them ended at the situationship stage - very few of them become actual relationships. so, you had put a pause on dating for good (much to the dismay of your gossip mongering best friends) and had been happily single for the past year or so. unfortunately, that was when you met mark lee and your heart decided to rebel against all sense of logic.
besides his pretty face (your friends were very surprised to hear that you had developed a crush on a good looking man for once; you had a seriously incriminating track record), mark lee had a pretty heart. he was so incredibly humble and kind to everyone he knew - which was a lot of people, as you came to learn. he was super friendly and great at remembering little details about people that made them feel as though he truly cared about them.
which he really did. it seemed like mark truly cared a lot about every single one of his seemingly thousands of friends and went out of his way to make them feel loved. for you, however, it seemed like he went above and beyond.
it seemed as though after mark (and you, really) had gotten over the initial shyness and awkwardness, the two of you were rarely seen apart. you weren't sure if the two of you were toeing the line of romantic relationship yet, but it just felt like you guys were having fun. even without a label or anything, you and mark tended to gravitate towards each other in social situations and even made consistent efforts to see each other outside of your respective friend groups.
for example, you really didn't belong in the frat scene. you had expended all of the energy and patience you had for frat house parties during your freshman year and quite frankly, as a junior in college, it felt kind of embarrassing to go to them without having any real connections to brothers themselves.
but mark was a brother in nu chi theta so within the first month of your friendship, you found yourself at the NCT house with a red solo cup and an uncomfortable top on.
"hey y/n! i'm losing over here! can you help me with this one?" mark calls out from behind you. you turn around to see him extending a ping-pong ball (that smelled like it was coated in beer, vodka, and...laundry detergent?) in your direction. you look to see if your friends, who you had dragged along to the party, were going to save you from death by beer pong but you're on your own when you see two of your friends making out with the same boy.
you would stop them but the image was far too gruesome and downright hilarious. and in their drunken state, you doubted you could really separate the lovebirds (?) anyway.
"alright, but it's gonna cost you, lee," you sigh dramatically, setting your cup down on the counter before accepting the ping-pong ball, your fingers brushing over mark's.
"name your price," mark says confidently as you line up your shot, ignoring the heat that radiates off of mark's body as you realize that mark was a lot closer than you had previously anticipated. his words sink into your skin and you involuntarily shiver when you feel his breath on your neck.
"hmm...i'll have to think about it..." you trail off, finally throwing the little ping-pong ball into the cup. you turn so that your chest was pressed against mark's front and all your thoughts have been replaced by the look of his eyes in the dim lighting. the words tumble out of your mouth before you even realize what you're saying.
"go on a date with me?"
your heart drops as you see mark's face turn from confusion to shock and then back to confusion. he rubs his neck awkwardly (a habit, you had noticed, that tended to present himself when he felt particularly confused) as he licks his lips nervously.
"was...was us hanging out everyday not...dating? i kinda thought we were already going on dates," mark mumbles, his cheeks flushed. you stare at him and a strange gurgling laughter rips out of your mouth before you clamp your hand over your mouth, your eyes wide in horror at the sound that came out of your mouth.
"does this mean you like me?" you ask, and once again, you're graced with the sight of mark lee looking just all too angelic under the strobe lighting as he nods before tentatively making eye contact with you.
"uh...if you asked me on a date, am i safe to assume that you like me too?" mark proposes and the way that he says it, almost like he was presenting a business pitch to a potential investor, makes you laugh once more as you lean a little closer to mark, your lips barely brushing against his.
"more than you realize, mark."
can i come inside?
the first time mark came with you to help out with the kids at the school, it was completely unexpected. another one of the student teachers had suddenly fallen ill (you found out a few months later that at his girlfriend's baby shower that he was not, in fact, sick) and no one else was available to help out.
your supervisor was a sweet old lady who was dedicated to helping as much as she could before 'her joints gave up on her' - which meant that oftentimes, she tried to take on more responsibility than she really could. and then that meant that she often didn't hire enough staff to keep the place running, hoping that she could do all of the administrative things herself so that all of the people who did come in could focus on working with the kids. needless to say, as one of the only volunteers who had been with the organization for more than four years, you knew more than well that the sweet old lady needed more people to help her out.
so, you forced your boyfriend of three years to help you out. well, not really forced. mark had the day off from work because it was the day before july 4th and really didn't have any plans for the day. so when mrs. varghese calls you frantically at nine o'clock the previous night, mark offered to come with you.
"we've been together for the past three years and we've been living together for the past one and a half. i lose my girlfriend every monday and thursday evening to kids. i gotta meet the little suckers who've been monopolizing my girlfriend." which was mark's stupid way of saying i love you. let me help you out a little bit. let me be part of your world. maybe in the disney princess way.
and you're a sucker for kids and your boyfriend, even after dating for three years, so you agree and the next day, you're piling into the passenger seat at seven in the morning to teach young children addition and subtraction.
not really how the two of you (mostly mark) were planning on spending on of your rare days off but you could never deny mrs. varghese of anything. especially if it meant more time with the kids.
mark always joked about how you should've become a teacher but as much as you loved the children and the interactions with them, you were not a fan of the underpaying salaries. so you made it a point to become successful in your career and dedicate a percentage of your paycheck to donate to the school you volunteered at instead.
which had caused some struggles when you first moved in with mark, given that it was only the two of you rather than you living with three of your friends and your share of the rent went higher. but you figured it out and mark definitely wasn't the type of person to hold it over your head that you weren't able to pay your full share of rent for the first two months.
because that's just who he was. he would cover for you, covering up all of the little parts of yourself that you didn't like. and you would help him see that those blemishes he thought he had were just things that made him more lovable to you.
so when mark steps into the little school and immediately, kids are swarming to the two of you, trying to find out who the attractive boyfriend was, you're not even surprised. mark had a natural, comforting air about him (not to mention the fact that the kids were overly invested in your personal life) that made people want to draw to him like moths to a flame.
in fact, he's so overwhelmed by the love that the kids are showing him, he's still hovering around the door awkwardly, semi-bowing to mrs. varghese, who's watching him with amusement.
"can i come inside?" mark asks, trying to take a step forward while not hurting any little kids. you snort at his awkward shuffle before clapping your hands together, taking it upon yourself to relieve your poor boyfriend from the possibility of death by enthusiastic children.
"can you or may you?" mrs. varghese says with a humorous smile and mark's eyebrows furrow as he contemplates the question. the kids are slowly making their way over to you, where you're starting to distribute fruit pouches as a morning snack and mark finally feels as though he's only carrying his own body weight - as opposed to ten other children's.
"it was 'can i' at first but now i think it's more of a 'may i'. mrs. varghese, i presume?" mark says, extending his hand for the old lady to shake. she just looks at it strangely before gathering mark in a tight, bone-crushing hug.
for such a frail old lady, she had a lot of strength.
"get out of here with those manners. y/n's told me a lot about. and anyone in y/n's corner is family here, alright?" mrs. varghese says, and mark has to blink furiously to push back the tears, although he can't really tell why her words are hitting him so hard.
"thanks."
you mean that?
mark was really easy to love. that's just the type of person he was. in everyone else's eyes, he was a good guy who just always tried to be better at the things he was already incredibly good at. he was always polite with strangers, babies cooed at him, and was the type to be the person to start a 'pay-it-forward' queue whenever he could afford to do so.
and for all of his perfectness, mark was a very flawed man. he was a little bit of a miser - he hated to spend money on himself, even if he would splurge a little more on you. he was a little bit on the insecure side, and no matter how many times you told him that you loved him all the more for his quirks, he still got down about it. mark was also really bad at communication when things made him upset. he was just so easy-going that he would let the smaller things accumulate and build until he's practically bursting.
and mark was kinda mean when he got angry.
he would never hurt you, of course. mark didn't think he could ever live with himself if he knew that he had laid a hand on anyone - but you in particular. and he really, really was trying to work on his communication skills so that he wouldn't let it build and then get so angry.
but when mark got angry, he seemed to just turn into a different person. it had only happened once in your relationship before, almost right after you had moved in together
it was about something incredibly stupid but the tension had been building for a while prior to that. technically, before you moved in, the apartment had been mark and one of his friend's, johnny seo from school, before johnny had moved out to move in with his own girlfriend. and mark and johnny weren't exactly...the cleanest people. you didn't really mind the mess but soon it turned into an unhealthy balance of mark leaving things around the house and you having to clean up after him.
not to mention that a lot changes when a couple moves in together. naturally, tensions were running a little high. for all your cleanliness, you had a really bad habit of leaving unfinished meals in the fridge until they went bad and started to smell, which made mark upset because that was a waste of a valuable meal. and so on and so forth.
one day, the tensions just burst and the two of you ended up in a screaming match going back and forth and back and forth about cleanliness and not eating properly and soon, it escalated from a conversation about living together to being together in the first place.
mark regretted it almost immediately, cursing himself out when he saw you just completely shut down in front of his eyes. he knew his anger got the best of him sometimes, and when he was in the moment, all he could think about was winning the argument, no matter what he needed to say to win.
that had been the worst fight you've ever had. after that fight, you got a lot better about portioning your food to eliminate leftovers and mark made a more conscious effort to clean up. you also started talking more to each other about what things did or didn't make you happy.
but even as mark was getting better at communicating with you, he still didn't know how to raise up issues with you. usually, you would tell mark what you were up to and then you would naturally ask him yourself if he was comfortable with what you were doing. he would then reply with a simple yes or no with an explanation and that would be the end of that. he always hesitated to raise up an issue with you though. he didn't want you to think that he was trying to control your life or be one of those possessive boyfriends.
one day, though, you were out clubbing with your friends (your friend had recently broken up with her fiancé and she really needed her girlfriends) and you had come home pretty late. mark had stayed up, watching a movie (barely), worried about you making it home safely because he knew that your friends were prone to trying to get you as wasted as possible.
mark never told you explicitly but you had a feeling that's how he felt. it frustrated you though that he never said anything to you and wait for you to bring it up to him instead. so that night, you decided to drink a little more than usual (but not as much as they tried to make you drink) so that you could finally, finally get mark to talk to you about his issues.
really, for your behavior, you were expecting to have a round two of what had happened when you first moved in with him. you were imagining a screaming match like no other but instead, mark just looks at you, sighs, and pulls you into a hug when you come stumbling through the door. confused, you begin to pull away, but mark just continues to hold you tight.
"i was so worried that you might not get home safe. and i promise we'll have a proper conversation about this when you're sober in the morning but i love you so much and...let's just talk about this in the morning, okay?" mark mumbles into your hair. you let mark just rock you gently side to side as he clings onto you, completely opposite from the reaction you were expecting.
"mark, i'm not drunk. i just...i'm tired of always being the one to bring up issues. i know that you don't like it when i get drunk outside because you're worried for me but i'd rather you tell me that than me having to guess that by myself. i can make my own decisions and i'm a big independent girl but you're the singular most important person in my life. i would never consciously do something to make you uncomfortable but i make mistakes sometimes. i need you to be open and honest with me when something makes you uncomfortable - because i know it takes a lot to get that far in the first place."
mark steps back to look you in the eyes, his eyes glittering in the shitty lighting of the apartment. "you really mean that?"
"i mean it with my whole heart."
do you promise to love me for the rest of our lives?
mark tries not to trip. he tries really hard to hold in his sneezes, tears, and any other bodily fluids that are inappropriate for the situation. but the nearly fifteen feet from the entrance to the where the officiant is standing is enough to make mark want to puke all over the very expensive carpet you bought for the wedding.
when you first proposed having a backyard wedding, mark was extremely opposed.
a wedding was a once in a lifetime day where you could celebrate your union together with your partner and start the journey to the rest of your lives together. in fact, it was mark, not you, who had the pinterest board (although, to be fair, it wasn't actually a pinterest board and was rather just a folder on his phone of screenshots from pretty tiktoks). he had a vision for the wedding - one that included all members of your friend circle, your families, and your family friends as well.
and well, that wasn't really in the budget. rather than spend 100k on a one day event, you proposed having a backyard wedding that would be significantly more economical and using that 100k to buy a starter home.
"you still get your expensive venue and we have a place to move into. a real home that we can start a family in, mark," you had argued as mark paced back and forth in the small, almost cramped apartment the two of you shared. mark stops when he realizes that it only takes fourteen steps to make it from one side of the room to the other side and back.
and that was the biggest room.
so mark agrees on one condition: there are no lacking traditional elements of the wedding. the both of you worked together on the pain-staking process of planning a wedding that included portions of your culture and his culture to put on the wedding of a lifetime. hopefully the only wedding of your lifetimes.
well, the only wedding for you and mark, at least. but that was about the future and in the present, mark can barely keep from keeling over right there at the beautifully decorated altar that you and your mother had spent hours on.
after so long of being together, mark can't help but feel just so incredibly lucky and overwhelmed to be finally marrying you. you. the person of his dreams. the person who taught him that love isn't always fireworks and euphoric thrills; that love can be huddling together when gas bills were too high to pay and wanting nothing more than to see your significant other when it's been a long day.
love was you and mark really, really can't wait to finally show the world how much he truly loved you.
unsurprisingly, mark almost cries when you finally enter, the picture of the stunning bride as you clutch your father's arm for the last time as y/n l/n instead of y/n lee. mark isn't sure the last time he saw you this nervous but when you meet his eyes, he can feel the rest of the world melt away.
just normal people with enough love to fill the world, is what you say in your vows. just a guy and a girl in the same business class who never travel business class because the two of you are such money minders - something that my soon to be husband has rubbed off on me.
"i will never forget the moment that i knew i was so irrevocably love with mark. it was two days after we fought for the first time. i remember that i was so incredibly angry and scared that that fight would be the end of y/n and mark. that i would have to move out and redownload tinder and just be miserable again for losing one of the best things in my life over a little sock in the wrong place and leftover pizza."
"but two days after we fought, mark came up to me, hugged me and just said, 'we're gonna get through this. i love you too much to not get through this.' and even though everything just seemed so uncertain, the moment mark said that, i knew instantly that we really were going to get through it. because mark had faith in us. and i have faith in us. i love you, mark lee. from the moment you sat down in that ucla business class. i have loved you for so long and i will continue to love you forever."
there isn't a single dry eye in the house (quite literally) after your vow. mark has to clear his throat four or five times before he can start his vows, too afraid that his voice would give out on him in the middle due to how much emotion he was feeling.
"y/n, you asked me one day when we were binging american horror story and pigging out with a family sized bag of chips when i started falling in love with you. and i couldn't answer then so i just said that for as long as i can remember. and that's true - i still don't know when i fell in love with you. i just remember that one day i woke up alone in bed (don't worry mr. l/n, i have never slept in a ten mile radius of your daughter...please don't make her divorce me) and thinking that i would rather wake up next to you instead for the rest of my life."
"but i do know when i realized you were my soulmate. five moments when i knew i found the one. when i asked you if i could sit down next to you in business class. when i asked you to help me with statistics because for being a business major, i'm horrible at math - go figure. when i volunteered with you for the first time with mrs. varghese. mrs. varghese! - where are you - mrs. varghese! may i marry y/n? then i'll be real family."
mrs. varghese blows into a handkerchief unceremoniously, waving mark off through her tears, making the crowd and you laugh a little. mark's smile grows when he sees you laugh and continues on nervously.
"and the fourth moment was the time when you gave me a reality check. when you reminded me that love doesn't work without communication. you've changed me so much for the better, y/n, and i truly could not thank you enough for it. so, i have one last question for you. one last moment for me to know that we're soulmates."
mark takes a deep breath, holding one of your hands in both of his as he looks at you with soft eyes, so filled with love that your breath catches in your throat. "i promise to love you and stand by you for as long as i breathe. can you - can you promise...do you promise to love me for the rest of our lives?"
it seems as though everyone in the venue is holding their breath before you press a sweet kiss to mark's cheek and say the words that everyone has been waiting for.
"i do."
and with those five questions, mark lee had found his soulmate.
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irishmammonagenda · 3 months
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PLEASE MORE MICHAEL CONTENT I AM ON MY KNEES BEGGING U CRYING PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLESASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEA
-yk who 😞
i do know who😈😈‼️‼️‼️
i love writing michael sm heehee anyway thanks for the ask pooks 🫶🫶🫶
grma <3
Unsane Uncles-An Obey Me x Reader
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Summary: Michael realises some shocking news, has a crisis, as per usual, chaos ensues. Word Count: 1.5k Warnings: nothing I don't think, for anyone that doesnt know, i headcannon michael as lucifers twin, this was written with my 'Death is a Debatable Thing' Au in mind, but it can be read as a stand alone <3
post dividers by @saradika-graphics
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The café was quaint, quiet and out of the way. It had been ages since you'd last visited the Human Realm. The soft sounds of chatter and cutlery clinking created a calm atmosphere. Well calm for the most part.
Michael sat on the chair opposite to yours looking quite frazzled. His white button down rolled up to just above the elbows and a few of the topmost buttons undone. His long golden curls done up in a messy plait, nonconforming strands coiling around his unusually antsy face. Long dexterous fingers wrap around his coffee mug, he brings it to his lips and takes a sip before setting it down with a little too much force. You watch the scene amusedly.
“I just- I don’t know what to do!” he runs a hand through his hair, looking up at you with stressed, ruby red eyes. "I mean?- Is it too late to give my congratulations?!...Or a push present?!"
You bite your tongue to keep from laughing, the Archangel notices. "This is serious MC! I am the worst uncle ever!"
You tilt your head, "Did you not think it was strange when the brothers first fell that Satan just kind of poofed into existence?"
Michael gives a thoughtful look, before making a 'meh' face and shrugging his shoulders. "I kind of just thought Satan was a low ranking angel that fell with the actual memorable ones, and that I had just... never cared to learn his name before he fell."
"You didn't ask?" You take a sip of your warm drink, revelling in how satisfying the hot liquid felt when it hit the back of your throat and warmed you up from the inside, especially as it was fucking baltic outside.
"Yes." Michael smiles sarcastically, "Because taking a trip down to the Devildom straight after the Celestial War to ask about the demon who kept biting people and snarling would've gone great for me."
"Touché." You grin. Michael's expression falls back from sarcastic to strained, his gorgeous features bathed in stress.
"But seriously MC! I've missed out on centuries as an uncle! That's so many birthdays! Luke must think I'm a deadbeat! I already act like I'm a divorced dad with visitation rights because I can't visit very often!"
You snort. "I don't think Luke knows."
Michael sinks into his seat, "Oh thank Father."
He stays there for a moment, the soft golden glow of the café lights on his dark skin so similar to the aureate ambiance of the Celestial Realm that you almost forget that you're back in the human world. He flutters his eyes closed, a hand over his brow in what can only be described as a himbo-ified imitation of a sickly Victorian woman saying something along the lines of 'Woe is I!" after finding out poor people actually have feelings. What a fucking drama king. You hold back a snort. Michael groans before swinging back up like a jack-in-the-box, his usual cheerful yet cheeky smile on his handsome face, he joins his hands together as he rests his arms on the wooden table, as if completely oblivious to the complete 180 he had turned. "So! MC, have I ever told you about the time Lucifer ran into a glass door in the Celestial Realm?"
You shake your head, grinning mischieviously, "I don't think you have!"
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Hours Later, down in the Devildom, in RAD's royal library, Satan sneezed. He paused for a moment more before folding his handkerchief up and putting it back in his pocket, making a mental note to wash it when he got back to the House of Lamentation.
He groans, arching his back and stretching his arms out in an attempt to weave out any knots in his muscles. He'd been in the library since school had ended. Still unable to shake the feeling something was going to happen, Satan got up off of his chair, packed his books away, and made the journey home.
Walking alone through the cobbled streets of the Realm was calming and peaceful. Halfway through his siúl suaimneach, he comes face to face with a gathering of the stray cats he'd normally feed.
The Avatar of Wrath coos at them, hunkering down and reaching into his bag for some of the cat treats he'd normally kept in there. "Aww..." He mutters, speaking in a baby voice to the cats, scratching an old tabby's fur. "You've gotten so big, Purrsephone!" He scritches underneath the young cats chin, smiling as she purrs and remembering fondly when the cat was just a small kitten trailing behind her mother like a second, small adorable shadow.
As he pulls out the bag of treats onehanded, the symphony of meowing reaches a polyphonic crescendo, cats and kittens of all shapes, colours and sizes scramble towards Satan with more purpose now, all meowing for food. He chuckles, indulging the felines, petting them as they nibble and chew on the kitty treats.
Unbeknownst to the Avatar of Wrath, a good quarter of a mile away from where he congregated with the cats, a certain Archangel and his accomplice stood hiding in an alleyway.
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In the shadows of the alleyway, Michael was clumsily putting on his batman mask. He already had a matching batman suit and cape on, you however were much more serious, and were dressed up as Robin.
"Michael." You hiss exasperatedly. "You seriously can't think that sneaking up on the Avatar of Wrath is a good idea!"
Michael merely waved you off with one hand, his other carrying his 'surprise for his most favouritest nephew in the three realms' as he'd deemed it. "Besides MC is worst comes to worst, you can just pop out!"
You nod. "Good point. "You face breaks into a grin matching Michael's, "This is going to be fun to watch."
Michael goes to say something before you both hear footsteps, your eyes widen. "Oh shit...he's coming..."
Quickly you dart behind the dumpsters, Michael moves to the wall of the alleyway. Holding his breath as he listens to the footsteps of a certain green-eyed demon.
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After having petted the cats, Satan got up and begrudgingly left them in order to continue his journey home.
Lost in his thoughts, he can't help but feel as if something is watching him, thinking its just his imagination, he walks on. Who would be stupid enough to sneak up on the Avatar of Wrath?
An idiot in a batman costume apparently.
Satan jumped as the lunatic hopped out from the alleyway, hands behind his back.
"Psst! Kid!" The stranger in the batman costume says, ruby red eyes that reminded him of Lucifer staring at him. "I have a surprise for you!"
Satan's tail whips around his legs, on the defensive. "I'm not a kid." He says coldly. "And what surprise?"
"Heeheehee." The strange man giggles, before taking his hands away from where they were behind his back and revealling a small tiny little kitten, fur as dark as night, with an emerald green bow wrapped loosely around its little neck, having been jostled, the tiny creature meows in protest, big green eyes blinking sleepily. Satan's harsh, mistrusting glare softens as he looks at the kitten, moving to take it out of the strangers hands before his eyes narrow.
"What's the catch?"
"The catch?" 'Batman' says indignantly, as if Satan had gravely offended him. "The catch? How dare you! There is no catch! Can't an uncle give his nephew a present to make up for millennia upon millennia of missed birthdays?!"
Satan blinks. "It's March. It's nowhere near my birthday. And Uncle?" Green eyes narrow again. "I don't have any uncles."
The stranger sticks his tongue out. "Blah blah blah. You are just like your father. Take the fucking cat or I'm telling everyone that you're secretly Lucifer's son."
A vein pops on Satan's head. "Excuse me?!"
The stranger chuckles nervously upon sensing Satan's wrath bubble like magma beneath the surface of his skin, ready to boil over and erupt. When Satan's eyes flashed dangerously the stranger spluttered out. "Oh shit....! Uhhh....Cat Attack!!!" That was the only warning Satan got before the tiny kitten was shoved gently but firmly into his hands, his eyes immedietely softened, the rage slowed down from a boil as he looked into the soft innocent eyes of the kittykat.
He looked up at the stranger, who in his frenzy, had lost his batman mask. Ruby red eyes and golden curls tied in french plaits and tucked into the rest of the suit greeted him. Unholy fuck. Was that Archangel Michael.
The Archangel grins at him, "Enjoy your gift! Tell Lucikins I said hi! Oh and also the cats a girl, you can name her! Come visit your favourite uncle soon! Byebye!" Michael shouts to him, before he turns around, and fucking books it, sprinting away from the Avatar of Wrath at a speed that could rival Mammon running from Lucifer.
Satan stood shellshocked by the whole ordeal having acquired a tiny kitten and an uncle who needed to be institutionalised.
He grinned down at the kitten, "I'm gonna call you Dorcha."
Judging by the small creatures tiny meow, he'd gamble that she liked that name.
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A/N: im so sorry this is so short, ive been busy w irl stuff, but this was a fun ask <3
also dorcha is sort of pronounced 'door-ah-ha' but you sort of say the 'ch' with your throat, idk how to explain it, but it means 'dark' 💗💗
siúl suaimhneach (shoe-el soo-ehve-neyak, except dont pronounce the 'ch' as a 'keh' and pronounce it liek gutturally!!!) it means 'peaceful walk' but suaimhneach can also mean tranquil or quiet
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sparrowrye · 4 months
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Demi Demon || Alastor x Reader, part 16
Synopsis: soulmate AU where you have the same mark on your body as your soulmate, and if your soulmate dies, you die too. Alastor needs to make sure that his soulmate is safe so he can continue his reign - whatever that takes. Though it looks like we have a couple secrets of our own.
Previous part
Part 16: purgatory
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Everything was sore. I had a bandage over my one eye and around my neck. Sitting up took so much effort and strain. I stared up at the ceiling, at the very least taking comfort in the warm, soft sheets. I easily remembered the feeling of sleeping on cold floors or in stuffy attics.
I slept through the day until Husker brought food for me. He helped me sit up so I could eat but that was as much as I could manage. He put pillows behind my head so I was still sitting upright a little. Everything I did was painstakingly slow.
After I had finished, and was left alone to read, Alastor came in. He barely knocked before walking in without my reply. I watched him sit himself in the chair Husker had been in a moment earlier.
"Well, you sure made a name for yourself," his voice was chipper. I said nothing and looked down at my book. I had no interest in reading but it meant I could look at anything other than him. His chipper voice fell. "What were you hoping to accomplish?"
I was silent for a long while. I hoped if I didn't say anything than he would leave. Instead, his eyes were glued on me as he waited for a response.
"To stop the ring fights." My voice cracked.
"You do realize the rings picked up a week after you?" I glanced at him. "Oh sure you saved a lot of them but most ended up back in the rings when the orphanages were too overrun with children."
I closed the book and took a long, deep sigh. It hurt my chest to do even that.
"How do you know this?" I asked.
"I have my ways, as does Husker." Silence hung in the air for a long minute. His eyes narrowed and his voice deepened. "Do you comprehend the situation you put us in?"
"What was your point in coming up here?" I snapped. "If it was to make me apologize then sure, I'm sorry for losing and I'm sorry that everyone knows we're soulmates now. They were going to figure it out eventually."
"Of course they were," he agreed, "but not for at least a hundred years. We'll have to work faster with your magic, now."
"I'm done with your lessons! I never wanted any of this. I never wanted to be your soulmate, never wanted to be trapped in this house, never wanted to discover I was a Demon, and I never wanted to have to learn all this magic. There's too much of it."
"This is all of your own doing, I hope you know." He lifted his foot to rest it on his other knee, cane still sitting in his lap. "Since your training started, you have been adamant about fighting me when it comes to mind magic. It's putting a strain on your mentality.”
"You're not seriously trying to blame me, are you? You torment me every day. You jump at the chance to scare me or hurt me somehow. That's where the strain comes from."
"If you had listened to me and stayed in the house," he continued, seemingly ignoring my last rebuttal, "you wouldn't have gone and made a name for yourself and revealed us as soulmates. Because of this, I'm now obligated to ensure you have the proper defenses for when I'm not present."
"You're not obligated to do anything. They don't know I'm here and I've enough knowledge to defend myself against a Demon."
"Yet you're in this state because you couldn't." He looked me up and down.
"I had twenty Slight mages and ten more Full mages after me. Of course I couldn't defeat them all."
He shrugged and scratched at his microphone. "I managed."
"You're you."
"Regardless," he stood, "everything up to this point has been a direct cause of your own doing. I must make sure you don't die, either from other Demons or from your own mind. Whether either of us like it or not, our fates are tied. As such, I will be doing what I can to ensure we can live for another hundred years. I leave it up to you to decide how you want those hundred years to go."
He faded into the shadows and slithered out of my room.
****
The next day I was able to get up. I moved slowly down the hall and out onto the porch. Husker appeared a moment later, silently joining me in his usual spot. It was a cool spring morning. The trees were only beginning to bud and birds could be seen flying to and from them.
My neck and eye were still covered in bandages. I looked down at my hand and let my fingers grow into black claws. I thought I had liked them but now I wasn't so sure. Had I caused more bad than good? Did I ruin things?
"How did he know?" I broke the silence.
"How did he know what?"
"How did he know I was there?"
"It was actually me. I saw the broadcast on my phone."
"Broadcast?" I didn't turn my head very much for fear of it hurting again.
"Vox was broadcasting your whole fight. It's all over the internet now."
I leaned my head back against the chair and let out a strangled sigh. I had messed up big time. Rather than making a good name for myself and saving so many others like me, I was now known as the one person who could rid the Radio Demon from this world. And that I was weak.
"I know what you were trying to do," Husker said, "I know you had good intentions. But..."
"But I lost. I made a gamble and I lost." Tears started to fall down my cheek.
"Not all hope is gone, though.”
"Yeah? How so?" I said sarcastically.
"You held your own for a long time. I watched the whole broadcast last night. You fought against so many people even when you were injured. Some people might be too scared to go after you."
"Yeah, people. But Demons will. I'm no match for them. I barely survived the first few." Husker fell silent. I wiped my tears and carefully turned to look at him. "I'm sorry."
His ear twitched. "What for?"
"For what I said last time we spoke. I didn't mean...to be mean. I know it's not always your choice with how things go."
"You were angry," he shrugged, "reasonably so. And being with Al isn't exactly black and white."
"Still, I shouldn't have used that against you. I'm sorry."
"Thank you," he nodded his head.
****
Husker stood behind me as I carefully unwrapped the bandage over my eye. I was relieved to discover I could still see with both eyes, but the feeling was short lived. A large burn mark ran from underneath my jaw to halfway up my cheek. The skin was mauled and pulled in different directions, most of it not yet completely healed. It looked anything but pretty.
"Al was only able to do so much that night," Husker explained, "But I'm sure if you ask he can fix it better this time."
"I'm not asking him for help." I left the room and Husker followed. I went into the kitchen for a glass of water as he grabbed a glass of alcohol. Niffty was running about sweeping and dusting.
"I don't think he would mind if you did. I'm sure he'd love to get rid of the mark on his own face."
I looked out the kitchen window at the sea. I didn't deserve to have a healed face after all the trouble I caused. The only thing that convinced me to heal it was when it wouldn't stop itching and I made myself bleed more.
Alastor made his appearance later that afternoon. He and Husker we're talking in the sitting room when I walked in. It sounded like they were talking about people hunting me.
I waited a few paces from Alastor until he turned around. He stopped mid stride, hands clasped behind his back, and cocked his head to the side. I tried to say something but the words slipped from fingertips. I felt really cold and forced my legs not to shake.
"I'm sorry about the...about the burn mark...can you heal it?" I asked through clenched teeth, eyes averted to the couch. I internally grimaced when I heard him chuckle.
I knew he was going to touch me so it shouldn’t have made me flinch when he did. Our eyes met and I saw the same burn on his face. "I suppose I can." He moved his hand from my neck to my jaw, then up and over my cheek.
I clenched my hands into fists and closed my eyes. I could hear little scratching sounds as my skin pulled and fixed itself. I was starting to get light headed from the pain. When he finally stopped I let out a sigh.
"Looks as if that's all I can manage," he said. His face had a small burn mark from his jaw to halfway up his cheek. It wasn't huge but it wasn't unnoticeable. "Healing speeds up the process, not rid you of the injury."
I reached up to run my fingers across the newly healed skin. The texture over the burn mark felt a little different.
"This is probably a good time to tell you that Lucifer has called a meeting for tomorrow evening."
"Who?"
"The King of Hell," Husker answered for him.
"King of...why does he want to see us?"
"Oh don't look so panic, dear," Alastor chuckled, "Lucifer isn't someone to be afraid of."
"But why does it he want to meet with us?"
"He wants to meet with all of Hell's and Earth's Overlords. I have a feeling he wants to move his agenda forward because of your little escapade."
So now I'm causing even more problems. I looked to Husker who could only shrug. "There's...how many Overlords are there?"
"Quite a few."
The follow evening, I couldn't stop pacing in my room. I tried to fix the world and ended up digging myself deeper into the Demon one. Alastor had told me to attend the meeting in my Demon form, even going as far as to leave an outfit for me to wear. The thought of picking a different outfit crossed my mind but I was far too nervous about meeting who-knows-how-many Overlords and the King of Hell.
The outfit was simple but dark. The black skirt was loose and reached my shins. It was paired with a bright red short sleeve. Well, it was a long-sleeve but they were rolled up around my elbows. I dressed in the outfit in my Human form to avoid the hassle of my horns and claws. When I shifted into a Demon the clothes fit perfectly. My body grew a bit when I was in this form, yet somehow my wings and tail could appear without tearing any of the clothing.
"Stupid magic," I mumbled to myself as I moved my hair around the horns. I went into the bathroom to fix it but froze when I saw my reflection. I looked like a true Demon in the dark clothes and my claws, horns, tail, and teeth showing. I dared to open my wings and felt dread creep into my chest at the sight. I was a being from Hell.
I heard Alastor's shadow crawling through the walls. I quickly fixed my short hair and turned right as he manifested. His eyes looked me up and down and it took everything in me not to get sick. He wore his usual outfit, dark pants and red suite, but it didn't occur to me until then that the outfit he chose for me had been to ensure we would match.
"You look like a proper Demon," he said.
"Is that a compliment?" I asked, walking out of the bathroom.
"You will be silent the whole time unless spoken to," he walked out of the room, ignoring my words once again. I followed him through the house and to the cliffside. "Each Overlord will have their second hand stand behind them and since I'm taking you instead of Husker, I'm sure you won't disappoint me." We stood on the scorched symbol and put an arm around my waist. I crossed my arms and grabbed onto his to keep me steady. My nerves had silenced all my usual remarks.
The ground gave way as we teleported into Hell and right to the King of Hell's front door. The first word that came to mind was palace. I barely had time to really look at it before Alastor lead me through the massive front doors. The foyer was crowded with Demons who all turned their heads when we entered, though never stopping their conversation. I immediately started counting and came to at least eighteen of them.
I felt all kinds of presences around me but none of them touched my shields. They were just there. I could see various bright colors both from their clothes and their magic aura. The rush of different smells was overwhelming and I had to block them out. Everything in me was on edge. Especially since they were all still looking at me. Silence had not yet fallen but at this point I might have preferred that.
"Keep everything still," Alastor said in my ear. I kept my wings tucked tightly and forced my tail to still behind me. I hadn't realized I had been whipping it around. I watched him and put my claws behind my back like he always did. I could do this.
Doors to the side opened, finally drawing everyone's attention away from me. They started to file into the room still in deep conversation. The room was massive and empty save for a long table in the center. There was a balcony on the second floor that wrapped around the entire permitter of the room. Some Demons sat at the table while others stood at a pillar behind them.
"Hey dearie." Rosie put a hand on my shoulder. "You'll be okay."
Alastor left me at one of the pillars and sat down beside Rosie. A woman dressed as vintage as her stood behind her.
"Great! Everyone's here!" someone yelled loudly. Conversations fell silent as a man dressed in all white walked in. He walked down the long table and sat himself at the head of it. His chair was black and red and rather simple. This was the King of Hell.
He made direct eye contact with me. "Let us begin."
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spikedsoul · 1 year
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Imagine the fanfic happening in the movie universe.
Honey is the maid (Human, maybe?) that takes care of Bowser, feeding him and listening to his new Peach songs. Until, one day, the songs aren't about Peach anymore.
Gently hold small husband with salad tongs-
CAN YOU IMAGINE also um I couldn't help myself. Did i get carried away? Yes! (Although I didn't include the last bit, sorry!) Hopefully I kept him in character from the movie lmao
You were used to hearing Bowser talk and sing about Peach as you made his food, did his laundry, cleaned his room like the giant manchild he was. The only time he acknowledged that you existed was when he needed to bend someone's ear about his plans (marrying Peach) and Kamek wasn't around... but you weren't complaining. It was steady work and steady pay, and you were taken care of well enough that for now, you could handle it. In fact the only regular direct interaction you had with him was bringing his food, and he usually just snatched it from you without a word.
You'd also been privy to some of his more tender moments, a mere anonymous shoulder to lament to. Over the years, you'd learned to see past the anger, past the obsession, to know he's got a heart buried deep inside that chest - if only someone could reach it. But you kept it all to yourself - he probably still didn't know your name.
And why should he? He was a king, and you were paid to be a maid, silent and invisible. And that was fine. Things didn't need to be complicated. It was a simple business transaction.
You slipped into his music room as you'd done so many times before, listening to him play as you quietly got to work tidying up around him.
Sometimes it felt like he didn't even know you were there - but that allowed you to sort of see under that spiked shell of his, so you really didn't mind. Although, he never stopped playing either way, so who knew?
"Tell me, sweetheart," you heard him rumble over the music, "what is it that keeps you here?"
You hadn't heard those lyrics before, but the spoken word style suited them.
He chuckled - well, cackled more like - as he continued playing. "So diligently taking care of my castle, and me, and never once caring to speak up. So content to stay hidden in the background. You've never recoiled from my touch or looked at me like the villain I am, nor have you let leak any of my.... hmm, less than proud moments. So tell me, my sweet little handmaiden, do you think you're invisible to me?"
You dropped your broom in shock and spun around to see him, but he wasn't anywhere in sight. The only sound that echoed through the chamber now was the clatter of the broom handle hitting the floor.
What the fuck just happened? Did you hallucinate all of that just now? Your wide eyes swept the room in front of you, your mouth hanging open; it's been a while since you'd been on a proper vacation, so maybe you had imagined it...
With a quiet sigh, you turned around to pick up your broom - only to be met with a massive, scaly paw wrapping gently around your throat, clawed thumb forcing your head back by your chin. Your face flushed brightly as you stared doe-eyed right into King Bowser's grinning face.
"L-Lord Bowser," you stammered, absolutely ashamed of how you felt about his warm hand encompassing your neck so easily. Through all your interactions, this was the first time you'd ever touched him, and you had to admit his scales were smoother than you'd expected.
His eyes narrowed as he watched you, his nostrils fluttering as he dragged you a little closer to him. That terrible, beautiful grin didn't leave him.
"My silent little human minion," he purred; his breath wafted over your face, the smell of woodsmoke heavy in your nose. "I've been thinking a lot lately, you know.... about you. About us. About what could be..."
"Wh-what can I do for you, sir?" Your voice quivered and you could feel your throat bob against his hand when you swallowed; his not so subtle implications were making you dizzy.
He hummed, bringing his free hand up to drag his claws through your locks. "I want you to tell me about me. I want to know what a mere human like you thinks of the great Lord Bowser - and I want your true feelings, got it?" he growled quietly. "You've seen more of me than even Kamek is privy to, and I demand to know why you stick around."
You resisted the urge to let out a sigh; he was just fishing for compliments, thank God, despite his thinly veiled threat. If you actually told him the truth, you feared you'd end up dead. Not that you really had bad things to say! Bowser was just a little unpredictable sometimes.
You brought your hands up to lightly rest them over the one that held your throat, but you didn't try pulling away one way or another. That seemed to confuse Bowser, his head tilting to the side as his grin slowly faded.
"Well, sir," you murmured, slowly relaxing, "even though you desire to dominate other kingdoms and crush your enemies... you still seem like you would treat your allies well. I mean, look at me: I'm a lowly maid, but I get paid well and I feel relatively protected on the occasion things get a little... ah, rough. As fierce as you are... I don't feel like I need to fear you, exactly. Which is a good thing as your employee."
Bowser's pupils dilated slightly as he seemed to consider your words. You just hoped they were honeyed enough to appease him instead of set him off, but either way you'd find out in a few seconds.
"...That ain't all, is it?" he finally huffed. "I know you got more opinions on me than that political shit you just spouted, so tell me. Promise I won't get mad." And then he gave you the best puppy dog eyes you'd ever seen.
Oh, heavens help you. There was zero reason for this koopa to be so.... cute.
You took a deep breath, gathering your courage, and then practically blurted out one of your deepest feelings about him: "Sometimes you seem like you could use a real hug and a caring friend."
His jaw dropped as he stared at you in surprise. You stared right back at him, just as surprised that that's what came out.
The silence between the two of you stretched on until you couldn't bear it anymore and you finally turned around, chiming, "M-maybe I should get back to work-"
"Wait!" Before you could even blink, Bowser snatched you off your feet, holding you up in the air like he was afraid you'd try to run.
You blinked at him, a little surprised. "...Yessir?" you asked calmly despite the blush threatening to return. Momentarily, all he did was stare at you a little dumbly before recollecting himself a little.
"I-I, uh, just thought - I mean, if you wanted to give me a real hug, I'd - I'd allow that. And the... friend thing..."
Ah, you knew that code. He wanted a hug, but he didn't want to seem like he wanted it. Poor guy.
"...You know what, now that I think about it, I think a hug would be real nice. How about you let me know every time you're in the mood to allow me to hug you, huh?" you murmured. "And if you'd like me to-"
Bowser nodded, and without hesitation (or letting you finish) he held you to his wide chest, pressing your face right against it. Unfortunately your arms were pinned to your sides so you couldn't really hug back, but you could still feel some of the tension leak out of his body when he realized you weren't squirming or trying to get away.
"You know..." The vibration of his deep voice made your head buzz pleasantly, pressed against his chest as it was. "Between you and me, maybe Peach is just a siren trying to lure me into a false love, using her pretty face to keep me from seeing someone who'd really care about me..."
Since he couldn't see your face, you rolled your eyes. "Then does this mean you have your eyes suddenly set on someone else, sir?" you asked politely.
He set you back on your feet and crouched so that his face was level with yours, his large hands keeping a gentle hold of yours. "I don't know if "suddenly" is the right word... there's been a slow realization over a few years, but I suppose I'm finally ready to give up on Peach in favor of a more promising potential."
You smiled a little, daring to reach out; Bowser's eyes watched your hand as it fell gently on his nose. His pupils blew wide. Although you opened your mouth to say something, it was then that it dawned on you that Bowser wasn't actually crouching - he was kneeling.
"B-Bowser?" you breathed as, once again, your face grew hot with the intensity of your blush. But even as you stared at that adorably sweet face he was making, the sincerity and silent plea for some sort of consensual companionship was almost overwhelming.
"I'm gonna make you my bride one way or another... sweetheart."
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ahummingbirdwitch · 3 months
Text
Fantasize (Cypher x F!Reader)
Tumblr media
Summary: After a long day, you find yourself in need of some relief, and who better to fantasize about than the agent you're crushing on?
Pairing: Cypher x F!Reader
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 3,639
Warnings: female masturbation, vaginal fingering, sexual fantasy, p in v sex, voyeurism
Notes: Welp. The masked man wormed his way into my brain and made me write this. I've never played Valorant and I'm not super well-versed on the lore, but I did my best to work off of what I know and existing theories about Cypher and his past!
I fantasize about it all the time
If you were mine
I’d give this pussy to you 9 to 5
5 to 9…
~ ~ ~
You collapsed onto your bed, exhausted.
Freshly showered and sore from a hard day’s work, nothing sounded better than curling up in your quiet room and getting some well-deserved rest. And, if you were being honest, there was something else you’d been meaning to do; something that could very well relieve you the most—and calm your restless mind.
For the last month since you’d joined Valorant, you’d met many agents, each one captivating in their own right. But one agent in particular had captivated you the most.
Cypher.
The masked man from Morocco, the information broker whose face had never been seen by anyone in the agency. Every agent in Valorant had secrets, but Cypher had the most by far. He was enigmatic, impossibly clever, and seemed to know everything about everyone. He’d known you by name before you’d even introduced yourself to him, and in the short time you’d been with the agency, you’d become more than familiar with his ways—the little things he remembered about others, the watchful eye he kept on his fellow agents. No one knew anything about him other than his real name—Amir El-Amari—and his unwillingness to reveal his identity to anyone.
He was a complete mystery, and he had drawn you in completely.
You remembered your first meeting with him clearly. He’d been standing to one side of the room, nonchalant with arms folded, and said your full name before you’d spoken it yourself. You’d been stunned at first, but before you could turn accusatory, he had laughed. “I’m sorry,” he’d said, his voice softening. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He had then uncrossed his arms enough to wave to you with one hand. Despite the mask that concealed his features, the look on his face had seemed almost gentle. “I am Cypher. Pleased to meet you.”
Your initial shock had faded, replaced with something else—something you couldn’t quite understand at the time, something that made your heart thrum unexpectedly in your chest. And that strange feeling, you’d realize in the coming weeks, would only grow stronger.
On missions, you were often put on the same team as Cypher, and you’d come to know him more than you thought you would. At least, you’d come to know the side he showed to others. He was polite, easygoing, frequently cracking jokes and making fun wherever he could. He liked to stimulate his brain, particularly with chess and gadgeteering. He kept a level head in times of crisis, acting as a leader when necessary. He always had the team’s back, and, perhaps surprisingly, he was kind.
It would’ve been easy for you to write him off as a trickster, a spy who cared for no one but himself, who had no regard for anyone’s privacy. While it was true that he knew more than he should, and sometimes intruded on his allies’ personal lives, you’d learned quickly that he was not an uncaring man—far from it, in fact. He was never rude or crass. His jokes had no cruelty behind them. He was an attentive listener, occasionally even providing advice. It was clear he had boundaries, and there were lines he would never cross, despite his line of work.
You’d wondered endlessly about his past. There was so much about himself he kept hidden, so much you wanted desperately to know. What kind of life had he known before joining the agency? How could he be so secretive, yet so considerate? What kind of pain had he experienced? Had he had a family before? Who was Nora?
You shook your head, bringing yourself back to the present. There were so many questions you wished you could ask him, but you knew he would never answer them. He was a mystery, one you might never unravel.
In spite of all that, though, you’d fallen for him.
It wasn’t wise to have feelings for your fellow agent, especially one like Cypher, but there was no denying it, and no helping it. Your heart jumped whenever he entered a room, and fluttered at the sound of his voice. You went out of your way just to try and impress him on missions, always keeping as close to him as you could. You savored those brief moments where your eyes would lock with his, or his hand might make contact with yours when passing you a weapon. Your spirit soared whenever you made him laugh, and you were always thinking of all the ways you could make him do it again.
It was probably the hardest you’d ever crushed on someone, and it was torture.
It was bad enough you both worked together, but on top of that, you were sure Cypher would never want you. He would never reveal his identity to anyone, let alone you. He was older, and had been with the agency far longer. He was always busy, caught up in an assignment or working away at something alone in his room. And then there was Nora, a name you’d heard him utter once or twice under his breath. Curious, you’d asked around about her; some agents theorized she was his wife, either dead or simply no longer around. There was no way you could know for certain, but whoever she was, it was clear he was still hung up on her.
You closed your eyes, sighing heavily. You didn’t want to think about any of that. Right now, you just needed to let go.
Climbing under the covers, you laid back against your pillow, then carefully slid your panties down to your ankles. Spreading your legs, you lifted one hand, guiding it tentatively between them. You swallowed, feeling the same anxiety you’d felt the last time you’d done this. This still felt so dirty, so wrong, but when you pictured Cypher in your mind, blue eyes glowing against the black of his mask, you felt yourself start to relax. You rarely did this, but tonight, you needed it.
Slowly, you eased your hand lower, and let your imagination take control.
You were pressed back against a wall, Cypher standing over you. You couldn’t read his expression, but the desire in his voice betrayed his emotions. “I want you,” he murmured, gazing down at you. “Right now.”
Your fingers found your entrance, already slick from just those few words. Biting your lip, you teased your slit.
Cypher brought his hand to your face, stroking your lower lip with a gloved thumb. You opened your mouth for him instinctively, and he chuckled. “I want to kiss you,” he said softly. “May I?”
You nodded without question. “Y-Yes.”
His eyes gleamed. With his free hand, he reached for the bottom of his mask, pulling it up just enough to reveal the lower half of his face. His lips curled into a smirk, then he was moving forward and kissing you all at once.
Your thumb brushed your clit, and you began to rub at it, continuing to tease your opening with your fingers.
Cypher’s kiss was shockingly fierce, and utterly mind-numbing. Moving his hands to your waist, he slipped his tongue into your mouth, swallowing the gasp that rose from your throat. You met his tongue with your own, kissing him back with matching fervor.
Thumb still working your clit, you dipped the tip of one finger inside your entrance. You needed more; you needed to speed this up.
In the blink of an eye, Cypher had unzipped your pants and pushed them down. Trailing kisses down your neck, he used his fingers—inexplicably ungloved—to caress your clothed pussy. “Oh, what’s that?” he said with interest. “Seems someone is wet for me.”
You grasped at his coat. “Cypher. Please.”
You felt him grin against your neck. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he purred. “I know what you want.” Slowly, deliberately, he slid one finger under the hem of your panties, then plunged it inside you.
At the same time, you parted your folds with your own finger, pushing it in deep. You let out a soft moan when you curled it inside you, finding that familiar sweet spot.
Cypher sucked on your ear, pumping his finger in and out of you. “That’s a good girl,” he cooed. “What pretty sounds.”
You whimpered.
“Make some more for me.”
You moaned louder, unable to stop yourself.
“Dirty girl,” he teased. “So wet already and I’ve barely started.”
You clenched around your finger. You could hear how wet you were, the sounds of your pleasure muffled only slightly by the covers. Just as you prepared to add a second finger, you decided to speed things along once more.
You were completely naked now, while Cypher was still clothed (you realized you’d never seen even a hint of his skin, but that didn’t matter). His pants undone at the waist, he hoisted you up by your thighs, hitching them around him as he pressed into you. “Come here,” he growled before pushing inside you swiftly.
You arched your back, grinding against your palm as you fingered yourself, imagining it was his cock spearing you open. How big was he? Fuck, he had to be big. Even if he wasn’t, though, you wouldn’t care. You just wanted him. You needed him.
Cypher groaned into your ear, starting slow with his thrusts, then fucking up into you like an animal. “So tight,” he gasped. “Oh, so tight for me.”
You were moaning more than ever now, losing yourself to the feeling of being full. You wished you could hear him moan with you, feel his body on yours. You wanted to kiss those lips. See his face. He was so handsome under that mask, you were sure of it.
Cypher bit down on your neck, forcing you to cry out. “Yes, that’s it,” he coaxed when he came up for air. “That’s it, sweetheart. I want to hear you.”
You threw your head back, moans falling from your open mouth. “Cy… Cypher…”
“Call me by my name, my love.”
Your body jerked, reacting to his voice in a way you couldn’t even control. “A-Amir,” you whimpered. “A-Amir, please—”
“Just like that,” he whispered, gripping your thighs harder. “Yes. I know you’re close.”
You were. Two fingers knuckle-deep and your thumb at your clit, you were ready to burst. Just a little more, and you’d be right there, right there. “A-Amir,” you pleaded. “I—I need you—”
“I need you to cum,” he panted. “Can you do that for me? Hm?”
“Mm—mhm,” was all you could get out, ferociously rubbing at your clit. You knew you sounded ridiculous, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care about anything right now. These walls weren’t thin, but you wouldn’t give a shit if they were. You didn’t even care if Cypher himself had mics in your walls, and he could hear every sound you were making. You just needed him. You needed to cum.
Cypher leaned in, panting like a dog, thrusting into you even harder and faster. “Cum for me,” he breathed. “Cum for me now.”
That was all you needed. The cord within you snapped and your vision went starry. You shut your eyes as you came, whining uncontrollably. “Cy—Cypher,” you blurted out, moaning long and loud. You couldn’t stop the words from escaping you. “I love—I-I love you—I—mm—”
You continued to moan as you rode out your orgasm, keeping your fingers still deep inside while your body spasmed with pleasure. By the time you could feel yourself calming, the trembling in your limbs fading to a dull buzz, you were unsure how much time had passed. You felt utterly numb, your heart racing and your chest heaving as you caught your breath.
You exhaled, leaning back against your pillow. You did feel better. Touching yourself to the thought of Cypher had brought you relief—just like you’d wanted. There was still a part of you that felt guilt, felt dirty at what you’d done, but you suppressed it.
No one knew, and no one would know. Cypher kept so many secrets, why couldn’t you keep this one for yourself?
You got up and washed your hands, then brushed your teeth and returned to bed. You nestled deep under the covers, closing your eyes as you prepared for sleep to take you. You’d worked hard today. You deserved to rest.
As you drifted off, you completely forgot that you’d confessed your love to the Cypher in your mind.
~~~
Elsewhere, in a secluded room in the dormitory, Cypher was wide awake.
Unmasked, and dressed only in light clothes, he sat at his desk in the darkness, watching the cameras as he did every night. There was a single camera for each Valorant agent, along with its own mic and recording device, positioned in the most secure, hidden place possible in every individual room. He recognized the invasiveness of it. He didn’t take pleasure in keeping tabs on his allies in this way, but it was necessary. He would do all he could to ensure he kept the upper hand, even if it meant spying on those he considered his friends. He had been through too much to let anyone take advantage of him.
For some time now, he had been scanning the cameras, studying each agent as they wound down for the night, and something in particular had caught his eye.
You.
You, coming out of your bathroom in nothing but a t-shirt and panties. The moment he’d noticed you in your state of undress, he’d averted his gaze, waiting for you to either leave the frame or cover yourself up. When you’d finally crawled into bed, he’d been content to turn his attention to other screens, but then your mic had picked up some… telling audio.
You’d started to touch yourself.
Cypher was not a stranger to the female body. He’d been with women, been married to one. Countless times, he’d been at his desk and witnessed female agents—and male agents, for that matter—masturbate. Whenever it happened, he always turned away, often shutting off their mics as well to at least give them some extra privacy. Some agents did it more frequently than others, and he had even grown accustomed to their routines for it. But you…
Well… you didn’t do it very often, that was for certain.
You were new to the agency. Young, spry, full of confidence. When he’d first met you, he was sure he knew exactly what you’d be like. He knew your type—hell, plenty of the better-established younger agents were just like you. But in all honesty, in the month since your arrival, he’d learned there was more to you than met the eye. He was surprised to still be peeling back layers of your personality even now, when normally, he would have had someone thoroughly pinned down. There was always new information to be drawn from others, yes, but even so, you continued to intrigue him.
Cypher had heard you touch yourself only once or twice before; only faint noises coming from your bathroom had made him aware of the act. He’d been certain that the next time you did it, you would do it in the same place, but for some reason, you had chosen your bed instead tonight. As was your right, certainly. But regardless, he had not been expecting it.
He’d shut off your mic without thinking, lingering on the image of you in your bed for just a heartbeat before quickly tearing his eyes away. There was something about this that unsettled him, made him uncomfortable in a way that was unfamiliar. There was nothing unnatural to him about masturbation; he did it himself, when he was most in need of it. But something about seeing you do it—you, his sweet, sincere teammate—made him feel almost… ashamed. Like he was violating you.
He understood the necessity of keeping an eye on the agency, knowing he could never fully turn off the cameras in the rooms, but for whatever reason, he wished he could turn yours off now, at least for a little while. He didn’t want to see you in such a vulnerable state. He didn’t want to commit your expression of pleasure to his memory, imagine what sounds you could be making…
Cypher rubbed his eyes now, blinking rapidly as he cleared his thoughts. He had to focus. He had to make sure everyone was asleep before he too allowed himself to rest. He would wait until you finished.
But then… how could he be sure when you would finish if he couldn’t hear you?
A strange feeling nagging at him, he turned back to your screen. Though your lower body was concealed by your covers, he could see your movements underneath, and could see clearly what you were doing. No doubt, you were fingering yourself.
He swallowed, his throat suddenly very dry. He kept watching, unable to look away from your mouth, ever opening and closing. You were still muted, but he didn’t need audio to know you were moaning. Of course you were. Everyone did when they self-pleasured. But then, unexpectedly, he saw you form a word.
No—a name.
A name? Whose name? Questions flooded his mind. If you were uttering someone’s name in this state, did that mean you had… feelings for them? Was it an agent? Was it someone on the outside?
Cypher tried not to dwell on it. This was your business; your moment of privacy. It didn’t matter to him whether you had feelings for someone, agent or not. It was nothing. It was just—information. Useless information—right?
But then again, if he had it… maybe he could use it.
Before he could change his mind, he turned the audio back on. A second later, his heart dropped when he heard you moan out.
“Cy… Cypher…”
He froze, staring at your screen. No, it couldn’t be…
“A-Amir… A-Amir, please—”
Cypher couldn’t believe his ears. It was… him. It was him you were crying out for. You’d even said his real name—he’d never heard you say it out loud before.
He didn’t understand. You wanted him? Why? Out of everyone in Valorant, why him?
Had he missed something, all those times he had gone on missions with you? He had noticed your enthusiasm when in proximity to him, your noteworthy eagerness to follow his orders, but he had never considered it out of the ordinary. He had always just thought of you as a dutiful agent, eager to prove yourself and gain respect from your more seasoned teammates. Was that not the case? Was the truth that you’d been interested in him all this time?
Your voice severed him from his trance. “A-Amir,” you whimpered. “I—I need you—”
Cypher shifted in his seat, a sudden discomfort between his legs. His name sounded foreign your lips, and yet… sweet. He’d never thought he’d hear you say it, but more than that, hear you say you needed him. You couldn’t mean that. You weren’t thinking—too caught up in your own pleasure. You couldn’t possibly know what you were saying.
He could tell you were getting more desperate now, your hand moving faster under the covers. You had to be close. You gasped, shutting your eyes, then all at once you were coming undone, and he couldn’t look away.
“Cy—Cypher,” you cried out, catching him off-guard. “I love—I-I love you—I—mm—”
Cypher could hardly think as he watched you unravel before him on the screen, your words ringing in his ears.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
The only explanation was that you had lost yourself. Why else would you say something as bold as that without thinking? You didn’t love him. You couldn’t love him.
There was nothing about him you could possibly want. He guarded his secrets more fiercely than anyone. He was so reserved, staying out of the limelight whenever he could. He’d kept his identity hidden for years, carefully cultivating the persona he would allow people to see. You’d never even seen his face.
And yet… it was his name you’d uttered when you came. It seemed you had fallen for him anyway.
No. No… you hadn’t. It wasn’t possible. You didn’t want him, and you certainly didn’t love him. Love was knowing someone, knowing all of their secrets and foulest parts. It was something deep and potent, and only grew with time. It was what he’d had with Nora, before he’d lost her and everything else.
You had not been in your right mind, that much was certain. Maybe you liked him, liked the person he presented himself as, but you didn’t know him. No one did, and no one truly would. He liked you, but… well, not like that. How could he? He was a broken old man, and you were young and lovely, still with hope for the world…
No. No, that wasn’t right.
It didn’t matter. You would go to sleep now, drowsy in the aftermath of your climax, and so would he. You would not remember your confession in the morning. He would, but he would not let it consume him.
This was… nothing. He was sure of it.
Cypher began to rise from his chair, only to be made aware of the painful hardness in his pants. He grimaced, looking back up at your camera. You were wrapped up in your covers, already asleep. You looked so innocent. Peaceful.
… Beautiful.
He hung his head, running one hand through his hair. Oh, sweet girl, he thought. What are you doing to me?
(LET ME KNOW IF Y'ALL WANT A PART 2)
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penkura · 11 days
Text
last forever [8/13]
Summary: Zoro only offered to marry you to keep you out of an arranged marriage with a man much older than you. You agreed with the caveat of ending it via annulment once you received word from your parents regarding the original engagement, despite your growing feelings for your close friend.
Pairing: Zoro x Fem!reader, mentioned Sanami later (like epilogue later so chill)
Warnings: Marriage of Convenience, Fake Marriage, referenced sex (waaaaaay later on), mutual pining, Zoro is bad at feelings but what's new there, eventual romance I promise, mention of past attempted assault (I'll warn in that chapter), creepy older dude later on
Note: This is my personal favorite chapter I've written. That's all I have to say lol.
Taglist:
@misfits1a
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[Ch. 1] ● [Ch. 2] ● [Ch. 3] ● [Ch. 4] ● [Ch. 5] ● [Ch. 6] ● [Ch. 7]
“Hey, Sanji. Do me a favor.”
Sanji's nearly unconscious as Zoro speaks to him, his favor loud and clear before the blond passes out, leaving the swordsman to face Bartholomew Kuma alone.
You thought Zoro was going to die, you had convinced yourself he wasn't going to wake up. You'd stayed by his side, praying, ever since Sanji and Chopper brought Zoro back into Moria's mansion to treat his wounds and let him rest. Sanji won't tell you a word of what happened, no matter how much you beg him to.
“Mosshe– Zoro wouldn't want you to know. I doubt he wants anyone to know. Least of all you and Luffy.”
Whatever Sanji meant, you don't know, and right now you don't even care about what had Zoro knocked out the last little while.
Finally he was awake, it felt longer than it really was, three (agonizing) days, he had freakish healing like Luffy did, of course. But seeing he's awake, you can't help it, you throw yourself at him saying his name over and over like a mantra as you cry. Of course it freaks him out a bit, once he bites back a heavy groan from the pain you've just inflicted on him with your tight hug, it takes Zoro a moment to register you hugging him before he's able to do anything about it.
And he returns your hug slightly. Loosely wrapping his arms around you, one around your shoulders, the other barely touching your waist, an attempt at comforting you while you cry.
Damn it, he's tried so hard to push your feelings away, get you to stop looking at him like he was your world, but now Zoro realizes he's only stoked the flames by doing so, only made your feelings stronger without meaning to.
But, maybe he doesn't mind. He'd seek you out each morning, mostly asking if you'd gotten anything from your parents about your little sham marriage, but he'd also ask you to train with him if you weren't busy, and even be the one to go into town with you whenever the Sunny docked for a day or two. You never asked, you just knew he was coming with you so you waited for him, waited until he was by your side and then you'd smile and lead Zoro into the town to shop for whatever your heart desired (and your wallet could afford). In the time he'd started doing that, Zoro noticed different things about you.
The way you laughed with store clerks as they told you about an item you were looking at, your eyes would sparkle with every new find, how you'd hold onto his wrist to make sure he didn't get lost, you staying beside him when he'd nap on Sunny, you making sure he had enough water during his workouts.
How you'll help anyone on the ship with anything they need. You'll bring Nami the supplies she needs to make maps, help Usopp and Luffy fish for dinner, wash the dishes after dinner despite Sanji telling you he'd do it. You've been learning from Chopper how to treat wounds, you'll sit with Robin and listen to her tell you about history, you've even started helping Franky with his projects and helping to perform maintenance on Sunny if needed.
Then with him. With Zoro you're content to sit quietly while he naps, or watch him while he trains, never expecting a conversation. You willingly bring him whatever he needs, whether it's water or sake, you fix his shirts if they get torn, you even stay up when he has night watch and share drinks with him. He never thought someone would want to spend all their time with him or that he'd accept someone being so close to him, what had changed that made him actually want company during times he'd normally want to rest and be alone?
You. Damn, it was you.
You whose inner demons would infiltrate your dreams, causing you to slip into his bed for comfort, stability, as he slept soundly which gave you peace to do the same, a silent promise after the first time of yes, I’ll keep you safe. You who he had saved from drowning more times than Luffy and Chopper combined. You who made him feel like he was on fire with the slightest touch, even a brush of your fingers against his at dinner. You who had stitched him up multiple times, the first one turning into a jagged scar that if asked he'd say was his favorite. You who cared enough to stay sober in bars to drag him back to the hotel or the ship when you knew he needed to stop and rest.
You who would tell him every detail about the books you were reading, the ones you'd purchased or borrowed from Robin. The one time you told him the main love interest of a romance novel reminded you of him, making his face burn red out of embarrassment before he told you not to say such things, especially in front of the others (mostly Sanji).
Even after telling you in Alabasta that nothing was going to happen, you two weren't going to become a couple, he wasn't here to play romance with you or anyone else. Even after all that, you still stuck to his side almost like glue and didn't let it change anything.
Even with your argument after Robin joined, nothing much changed between the two of you. If anything, Zoro felt more drawn to you than anything or anyone else. He wanted to spend more time with just you and him. What a change from just a few months ago, he just realized.
Even once you kissed him and he returned it in Water Seven, you attempted to apologize soon after, before he stopped you. There had been nothing to apologize for, not from you anyway. If he'd thought about it at the time, Zoro would have apologized for not giving you a proper response then. For making you go to bed alone that night.
Damn it all.
What has happened to him? Ever since your sham marriage began something has been creeping into his mind every time he looks at you and remembers "Oh yeah I'm married to her" that makes him want to pull you away from everyone and damn it, he wants to kiss you again. There's another feeling of wanting, needing to protect you, despite how strong you are in your own right. Everything about this is weird, yet somehow comforting as well. Who put this spell on him, who made him have feelings like this? Are you secretly a witch on top of a swordswoman?
"Zoro…?"
Zoro breaks out of his thoughts when you speak his name again, this time as a question, your voice shaking as you hold him tighter, trying your best not to hurt him again.
"I…” your voice shakes again, and you hide your face in the crook of his neck, briefly wondering if this was the smart thing to do, before the words fall out of your mouth, “I love you…"
He pulls you closer, just a bit, your whispered confession only loud enough for him to hear. He doesn't have a response, not right now, but you're fine with that. You'd accepted long ago he may never love you back, but you had to tell him. He had to know.
After nearly losing him, you had to get these feelings out.
So when he ever so quietly thanks you, pressing the softest kiss to your temple, it makes you cry even more. You feel there's a chance, however small it may be, that Roronoa Zoro may come to have feelings for you one day.
Chopper returns a moment later, not wanting to pull you two apart, but he's so happy to see Zoro's alive and awake that even he cries a little, before checking the swordsman's wounds as you release yourself from him, Zoro allowing you to continue holding his hand for comfort.
Not only for you, but for him as well.
“I probably won't make it out of this…so take care of her for me, got it?”
+!+
"I told Zoro I love him."
It becomes so quiet you can hear a pin drop after that. Nami had asked why you were so spaced out that day, she and Robin now both so surprised at your confession. Nami's jaw drops and Robin has a small smile, before they look at each other with one thought in mind.
Impromptu girl's night.
"I'm getting extra blankets and pillows!"
"I'll ask Sanji for some wine and snacks."
Once everything is together and all the pillows and blankets are spread on the floor, you have glasses of wine and small snacks, Nami demands to hear every detail and you tell her and Robin everything about your love confession.
"He…he thanked me and kissed me–"
"On the lips again?!"
You laugh and shake your head, taking a small sip of your wine. "No, just on my temple this time."
Nami squeaks a bit, Robin laughing lightly at her reaction and the longing look on your face. As soon as she joined she'd seen the love you held for Zoro on your face, anytime you spoke of him or someone else did, your eyes would light up and your cheeks would burn pink.
You were deeply in love with him, even though he showed no romantic feelings for you. Robin had given you a romance novel once specifically due to the fact the love interest even reminded her of Zoro, which you quickly agreed with and finished the book in nearly three days which surprised her.
Nami, knowing you and Zoro were married, wanted you two together from the start. Every time you told her something that made you fall more and more in love with him, she'd giggle alongside you which always got a strange look from Usopp and Luffy, who thought you were both insane. She'd push you two together so often, that when Zoro started following you off the ship she thought it was a good sign, since she didn't have to bribe him with reducing his debt or anything. He just went on his own.
"That's such a great sign!" Nami throws her arms around you in a hug, making you laugh while Robin nods. "He's starting to fall for you! Finally!"
"I wouldn't go that far, Nami."
"I would! After all these months, you guys could be a real couple!"
"Nami, let's calm down a bit," Robin smiles and puts a hand on your shoulder, "She and Zoro will need to talk things out eventually, but let's see if anything changes since she's confessed her love to him."
Sighing loudly, Nami nods but still holds onto you, seeing a strange look on your face. She's not sure if it's one of concern or what, but it makes her hug you a little tighter.
"I'm sure he loves you, maybe deep down right now, but, he's gonna tell you one day."
You smile a bit with a slight nod, hugging Nami back. You believe her, you really do. Even if it takes a while for Zoro to say anything back to you, it doesn't matter. You'll wait as long as it takes and not give up.
For Zoro, you'll wait a lifetime.
+!+
You're crawling into Zoro's bed a few nights later. Your nightmares had turned from your neglectful parents to losing him at Thriller Bark, waking you with tears and sobs that Robin tried to help you through, calming you down enough for you to tell her you were going to slip into his bed like you'd done every time before. She simply nodded and let you go, promising to tell Nami nothing about it, you didn't want her worrying.
Zoro's fast asleep, as always, as you quietly sneak into the boy's bunks and step over Luffy who had fallen out of his hammock. You hear him mumble something about meat in his sleep while Usopp snores and Chopper sleeps happily beside him, but you pay no mind to it. You feel lucky Franky's in his workshop, Sanji's still busy in the kitchen, and Brook is out on the deck playing his violin. None of them should cause you any problems this time, but does it matter if they do?
Your thoughts are entirely on Zoro and making sure he's okay. He's still injured, but you have to be certain nothing is wrong.
You quickly and quietly slip into his hammock once you reach it, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in his back, hearing a slight groan from him due to his wounds still not being fully healed. You feel bad waking him, even as he turns around and throws one of his arms over you, looking at you as if asking what was wrong, even though he thought he knew. It's been a while since you've last done this, your nightmare must have been particularly awful for you to return to this habit he'd thought you'd stopped.
"You okay?" His brows are furrowed while he wipes a few of your tears away. He's never seen you this upset after a nightmare before.
You try to speak but all that comes out is a whimper and a quiet sob, making you grip his shirt tighter as you shake your head. You can't tell him, you can't get the words out that it was a nightmare about him dying after he’s told you numerous times he wasn’t dying until he became the world’s greatest swordsman. He came so close to death at Thriller Bark that you were just terrified deep down about it becoming reality.
Instead of inquiring further, Zoro just nods, pulling you closer in an effort to calm you down.
"You're safe here. Nothing's gonna get you while I'm around."
You feel the quickest of kisses on your forehead before Zoro tucks your head under his chin, closing his eyes to sleep again, and it's all so strange to you. You've not had time to sit and talk since you told him you love him, but he's treated you slightly differently lately. Still going into town with you, training with you, but now sitting beside you at every meal which pissed off Sanji at times, purposefully leaning against you while he napped as you read a book.
He let you hold his hand the other day in town, even stopping at a small café with you for lunch and refusing to let you pay for your own meal despite his own money problems.
Zoro may not be in love with you yet, but you can tell he definitely cares for you in how he treats you. He saw through your façade of acting like all was well while you were still nursing the pain from your parents treating you like property and trying to sell you off to someone nearly twice your age just for money, the pain your brother tried his hardest to lighten before he helped you run away. He'd noticed from the moment he met you that there was something you were keeping from him and when he got it out of you one night, he said he'd keep you from having to go back. That was why he married you, you had more to give and do than be someone's third bride, he'd help you achieve it himself.
"Thank you, Zoro."
He's still awake, but once you finally fall asleep, he opens his eyes and watches you, finally peaceful. He feels bad he doesn't have a true response to you yet, he’s still working things out in his own mind and heart. Telling you once before that he held no romantic feelings for you, but now realizing that his thoughts have changed, it’s hard to work through that without letting anyone know. He doesn't want to get your hopes up just to tell you he doesn't feel the same in the end.
But, Zoro thinks that maybe, maybe staying married to you won't be so bad. Maybe, once he works out his feelings, he'll try to properly court you, give you a relationship you deserve, he'll protect you from anything and anyone else.
And then, one day, you could revisit this being a married couple thing, maybe actually live as husband and wife.
+!+
There's a slight bit of teasing the next morning from Franky. He'd finally gone to bed at one point and was surprised you had snuck into Zoro's hammock, the swordsman having an arm around you as you both slept. Granted he's seen how close you two are, especially after the fiasco of Thriller Bark, but didn't think you were that close.
He's also surprised by none of the others, apart from Brook, saying anything about it either. Was this normal for the two of you, to share a bed like that? If it was, why didn't Zoro just join you in the women's bunks? Surely your bed was more comfortable than his hammock.
Your face feels like it’s burning all through breakfast, the same as when Sanji first caught you in Zoro's hammock and made a fuss about it. Zoro just sets a glare at Franky anytime he says something about you two getting cozy with a grin that tells him your shipwright is getting the wrong idea. You two hadn't done anything, you slept like the other times, there's no reason for this teasing.
Zoro eventually has enough and slams his hand on the table, frightening most of your crewmates, standing up and continuing to glare at Franky.
"Would you just shut up about it? She had a nightmare and came to me for help, that's all. Come on, let's go."
Luckily you're done with breakfast when Zoro tells you to go with him, nodding and doing so as you hear Sanji and Nami reprimand Franky, who's now wondering why Zoro, of all people, got so angry about a little bit of teasing.
"I don't get what the big deal is," Franky leans back in his seat, ignoring how Nami is still looking like she's going to smack him, "So what if they're together? Not like it's against the rules or anything."
"Except they aren't together." Sanji responds before Nami can, and all it does is make Franky question the situation even more. He's trying to diffuse the situation, making sure your arrangement with Zoro doesn't get out before you either annul or Zoro decides to stay with you.
Luffy nods, before saying "They're married though, but don't tell anyone else!"
"Luffy!!" Nami doesn't even wait to smack him over the head, making your captain whine and ask what that was for. "That's not our secret to tell!"
"Well they're gonna get an annulment thingy anyway, so why does it matter??"
"Wait what, what the hell?"
“I didn't know Zoro and [Y/N] were married!” Chopper sounds beyond excited, while Brook laughs.
“Yohoho, what a surprise!”
Franky and Brook try to question Luffy and Nami about the whole thing, while Robin smiles to herself.
She's heard you and Sanji talking about your marriage to Zoro every now and then, and knew most of the details already, but knowing your feelings for him, she’s sure it’s only a matter of time before you two actually became a couple.
Though, she’s also fairly certain that if you heard your marriage had been revealed, you'd crawl in a hole and die while Zoro would seriously consider throwing Luffy overboard, before saving him in the end.
+!+
"I don't think Franky was trying to be rude about it."
"He was being obnoxious is the point, [Y/N]."
Nodding in agreement, you keep your eyes on your book once Zoro comes back from showering after his morning workout. He'd gone straight to the crow's nest after leaving the kitchen, you running to get a book and joining him once you'd picked one out. You've been sitting there ever since, having small conversations with Zoro while he worked out, eventually leaving long enough to take a shower before coming back to you in the same spot. He didn't want to talk about the morning's events anymore, but you felt like you had to say something no matter how obnoxious Franky was about the whole situation.
Zoro sits beside you, and you barely glance over a few times, wondering if now was a good time to talk about your confession and what's next for the two of you, before he speaks first.
"Anything from your parents?"
Ah yes, that makes sense. He hasn't asked yet today, that's what was missing from this day.
Shaking your head, you close your book and lean back to stare up at the ceiling. "Not a word. Makes me think they forgot they had a daughter."
"We're three days out from having to divorce, right? So there's probably no chance of them responding in time."
You're not sure if you hear annoyance or concern in Zoro's voice, but again you nod.
You don't know how to voice that you don't want to annul or divorce, that your confession to him after he woke up at Thriller Bark wasn't a heat of the moment thing or simply crewmate concern. You really are in love with him, that was a fact you've come to know over the last few months but were only able to voice recently.
Why do feelings have to be so complicated?
"You meant what you said, after I woke up?"
He's very quiet, you almost miss him speaking, but your breath catches in your throat, and its all you can do to just nod, a small 'yes' coming out of your mouth.
Zoro's not at all surprised as he nods, trying to plan his next words carefully. He's not ready to say the same love confession to you, but he might be willing to try. Try a relationship with you and keep you safe, whether your parents ever reply to you or not. He's willing to give the two of you a shot.
It's strange, how just six months ago you were in tears to him about the arranged marriage and he quickly offered to marry you and keep you from going home, from leaving him. At first, he tried to convince himself it was because you were useful, you worked well with him when taking down bounty targets. You knew how to use a sword and could perform recon work on your targets, all of that was more than what he needed in a bounty hunting partner, when he'd never thought of having one before. Not until he met you in that dinky little bar when you were running away from home, nearly passing out when you ran into him because you'd had a fever and he kept you from hitting the ground. He lost a couple days of work taking care of you, a complete and total stranger, that you were so grateful to him you offered to help and he only let you do so after you sparred with him. You lost obviously, but Zoro was impressed enough to let you follow him if you wanted to.
The year and a half you had traveled and worked together was enough, he knew it when he told you he'd marry you. You didn't know it, still don't to this day, and Zoro would likely take the truth to the grave with him, but at this point he knew it.
He knew he had feelings for you, it was just telling you. That's the difficult part right now.
You'd said your side of it, Zoro just needed the right place and time to return your words.
"I want–"
There's shouting from down on the deck that snaps you both out of your little world you're in, and you sit up to look out the window, seeing what looked like a large fish tail and Sanji freaking out over something. You wonder what's going on, before looking at Zoro, who looks less than thrilled you two were interrupted.
"Something's going on! Let's go see!"
He doesn't fight or grumble while you grab his wrist and pull him up, there's nothing he can do about it now.
Maybe tomorrow I guess.
+!+
“What’s with the bird?”
You don’t even have the chance to untie the letter from your parents before Zoro asks, you just smile before petting your family’s carrier bird on her head, giving her a few scratches as she perches on your shoulder.
“My parents are wealthy, so they have their own carrier birds. We’ve had Chisa here since I was little, she brings me mail and letters all over, wherever I am she’ll find me.”
“Seriously? All of that just to flex their cash?” Zoro rolls his eyes when you nod with a small giggle, opening the latest letter you’d been sent by your parents.
Every one so far had been a demand to return home and “fulfill your duty” of marrying the man they’d chosen for you. It was ridiculous, you’ve let Zoro see a few of them, even though every letter says the exact same thing. The only one that had been different was a letter exclusively from Elias, telling you about his marriage because he knew you’d be happy for him.
You start to follow after Zoro as he attempts to lead you back to the town you’re staying at, not even sure why you’re reading the letter that’s most likely just their demands for you to come back, until you catch a new line in the letter that makes you stop in your tracks.
The second he hears your breathing pick up, Zoro stops and looks over his shoulder at you, eyes widening just a bit when he sees your shoulders shaking and it almost seems like you’re about to have a panic attack.
“Hey, hey, calm down,” he’s almost instantly in front of you with his hands on your shoulders, Zoro knows he isn’t good at this stuff, but he’s got to get you to calm down, “What’s wrong? What’s in the letter?”
“I…I’m eighteen.”
“Yeah…? So what about—”
“Shit, shit, they’re gonna,” Zoro can barely keep you from hitting the ground while you crouch down, still holding the letter but putting your hands on your head to try and calm yourself down, “They’re gonna find me and force me to marry him.”
Zoro takes the letter from you while you start crying over your fears of being forced back home, reading the letter himself to see there’s some caveat in the agreement between your parents and alleged fiancé, where you’d be legally married soon after turning eighteen whether you had a wedding or not. Scowling, Zoro starts to rip to letter up, watching you fist your hair and close your eyes tight. Whatever you went through while dealing with this arranged marriage situation, it’s left a bad impression on you, he’d be surprised if you ever chose to get married one day because of it.
After a few minutes, Zoro helps you back up, holding your shoulders again, before trying to speak to you.
“What—"
“I can’t go back, I can’t!” Finally looking up at him again, you’re still in tears and griping his shirt so tightly, almost desperate for some way out of this arrangement, some way to keep from being found and dragged back there. “I won’t go back, Zoro, please, help me!! I can’t marry that man!”
What is he supposed to do? There’s very little chance your parents haven’t sent people out to find you, or sent your name and picture across government facilities that honor small village traditions, no matter how dark or outdated they may be. He doesn’t know what to do, this is so foreign to him! How is he supposed to keep you from marrying someone?
“I’ll marry you then.”
“W-What??” This isn’t what you expected for help, not even in the slightest. You don’t even think Zoro knew he was going to say that, or planned to, it seems like it just came out with no rhyme or reason.
But, it would fix the problem. If you married someone else, your parents couldn’t rightfully force you to marry someone else, whether they had chosen the person or not.
“I…” You shake your head, not wanting Zoro to feel like he has to do something, it’s not his job. All you’ve done is follow him the last year and a half, he’s not supposed to be your protector or anything like that, just a friend that let you go with him so you didn’t have to go back home, back to what you’ve fled. “We can’t! I mean, we aren’t—"
“If I marry you, will that keep them from forcing you home?!”
“I…I think so?”
Nodding, Zoro takes your hand off his shirt, watching you for any signs of rejection or if you want to say anything else. There’s something in his eyes, you don’t know what it is, you probably never will. But he holds your hand so tightly, keeping you from pulling away before he says it again.
“Marry me, [Y/N].”
For a moment, you don’t respond, wondering if Zoro’s screwing with you or not. But that’s not like him. You’ve only known him for about eighteen months, but you know that he would never joke around about something like this. He might be a little closed off still, but he would never play with someone’s feelings this way.
After another minute or so, you nod.
“I’ll marry you, Zoro.”
+!+
You’ve not thought about how Zoro offered to marry you in quite a while, the memory waking you up from a dead sleep in the village you’ve been in the last eighteen months. After receiving Luffy’s message about when to meet your crew again, you ended up staying in a village that excelled in training swordswomen, working your hardest every day and improving to the point very few of the other women even tried to spar with you.
Now I can’t sleep.
Sighing, you get up from your bed and go to the balcony in your little apartment you’ve been granted use of. Remembering the proposal that’s put you in this situation still, where you’ve been legally married for two years, have told Zoro--who was supposed to be your temporary husband--that you’re in love with him, and it seems like he might be starting to feel something similar towards you. It’s still all so strange, but it makes you smile while you watch the stars for a few minutes, silent prayers for your crew’s continued safety, and hopes that you and Zoro can make things work out.
“Happy anniversary, Zoro.”
+!+
You’ll be surprised to hear, one day in the future, that Zoro had the same dream about his impromptu proposal around the same time you did. He even realizes that it would’ve been your second anniversary at the time, give or take a few days, Mihawk doesn’t have a calendar or bother to keep him and the ghost girl up to date on what’s going on outside the island.
The dream isn’t enough to wake him the way it does you, but it does linger in his mind the rest of the day, even as he trains. It gets to the point that Mihawk stops him, asking what on earth could be distracting the twenty-one-year-old so badly that he’s making beginner’s mistakes, and Zoro decides to tell him, just to get it out there. Maybe that will help him clear his mind.
“Just… thinking about my wife.”
This earns a raised brow from Mihawk and a shout from Perona.
“A wife?”
“You’re married and never told us?!”
“You aren’t my crew!”
Perona sticks her tongue out at him, demanding answers about you and your marriage, questions Zoro refused to answer right now, before Mihawk interrupts them.
“I care not that you’re married. You can think about your wife later, focus on training now.”
Though Zoro knows Mihawk is right, he should be focusing on his training, thoughts of you and your strange marriage don’t leave his mind, despite his nodding.
“Right.”
I’ll talk to you soon then…[Y/N].
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maybank-archives · 7 months
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act - jj maybank
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warning: +18. NSFW CONTENT. MINORS DNI. roleplaying (ish). oral and vaginal sex.
word count: 1.8k
masterlist | join the taglist | kinktober!!!!
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"Twenty bucks that the blonde's gonna roll her eyes as soon as you get near her, bud."  
"No chance, I'm irresistible; she'll at least give me her number." Another guy confidently replied
"Nah, ain't happening, dude." 
I've been eavesdropping on these tourons for the last ten minutes, when slid onto the neighbor stool, they barely glanced my way, that gave me no choice if not listen on their douchey conversation.
From what I understood they’re betting on who could score numbers from the ladies at the bar. I honestly wish them good luck, especially since they're aiming for Kooks, which 1. they don't seem to realize that and 2. huge mistake. But it was damn entraining to watch. 
Two of them try to get the girls that are dancing but none of them succeed. I watched them toss cash into the counter as they lost their bet and that money had my name written all over it, now that’s when things get interesting.”
I set my glass on the counter and say, "Can I play?”
They turned to me, their faces sporting a strange mix of curiosity and skepticism.
“Pass. If you lose, you’re the one who has to pay us, and…I don’t think you can afford our little game,” one of them replied cockily.
"I mean, I can play for free just to school y'all on how it's done. Seems like y'all got plenty of time," I shot back, grinning.
“What’s your deal man, you’ve been listening to our conversation this whole time?.”
“You haven’t noticed? That’s why your odds with girls are so low.” I casually teased.
“Then go ahead, big boy. I’ll give you five if she even looks at you,”  They laughed contemptuously.
“C’mon Kyle, have more faith in the boy, I'll give you ten.” the other one said mocking me 
“All right, do y’all have anyone in mind?.” I asked, turning and examining the room.
“choose your victim, most of them don't even seem to be interested in men.” One of the dark-haired guys says, making the others laugh again.
“What about that one?” I proposed pointing to a girl sitting across the bar, her hair was loose and her pink dress was accentuating her curves, she was cute and wasn’t interacting with anyone, just sitting there with legs crossed observing everyone. Bingo
“Ha, Greg tried that one but she scoffed at him when he tried to open his mouth. Be our guest buddy.” the blonde-haired dude said
“Watch and learn whoever Greg is,” I said tapping the counter and heading in the direction of the girl.
With this body and this face, I’m impressed that just one of those shitheads tried. Lucky me I guess.
“G’night, can I get you a drink?.” I asked leaning my body into the counter slightly toward her.
"I'm good, thanks," she replied, lifting her drink. 
She had to tilt her head to glance up at me since she was seated, and I was towered over her. She flashed a brief smile my way before turning her attention elsewhere.
“The next one then?.” I pressed, trying to catch her gaze once more.
“Unfortunately this is my last one.”
“C’mon, the night just started.” I insisted
"I better not have another drink, or I might get tipsy, and you wouldn't want to see what happens when I do." She stated smirking
“Actually I do, I would love to see how bad you can be,” I said edging closer, her knee lightly brushing my hip. I swear I hear her breath hitch at the slight contact. 
“Alright, let me lay it out straight for ya.” I bring my lips closer to her ears “You see those dudes all together right behind me?” I asked, staring at her moving my body so she could see them.
She smoothly switched her gaze to the guys and nodded at me.
"They're placing bets on the ladies' numbers and they basically told me I don't stand a chance at catching your eye."
“Well, it seems they’ve already lost something, right?” She stated, looking into my eyes, her lips turned into a smirk.
“Yeah, but when I came here I already had zero interest in your number.” This time, I’m the one who tilts my head whilst I analyze her frame.
She narrowed her eyes. "Oh really? What's your game, then?"
"A kiss," I said casually, my gaze locked on her lips.
"So you can show off to your buddies and prove them wrong? Not happening," she retorted.
“Nah, I’m just testing my intuition and since I saw you, I knew you wanted me.” I casually whispered into her ear. Now I was sure, her breath faltered, I could tell her body was reacting to how close we were. 
“You have one hell of an intuition.” She chuckles lightly grazing my arm. “Well, I can’t deny there’s something about you.”
I leaned in even closer, our faces inches apart. "So, you're saying there's a chance?"
Her eyes flickered down to my lips and then back up to meet my gaze. "Maybe a small one," she teased.
I gave in to the irresistible temptation. I lean in until our lips press together in a lingering kiss. Her hand found its way to the back of my neck as our hungry lips were locked. As we parted, she smirked, "What’s your intuition telling you now?."
“That I should take you off here.” 
“What would your girlfriend say about this?” She asked, biting her lips. I give her a dirty smile.
“She would say: “Please let me come JJ..” I teased her planting a wet kiss on her neck
I smile as I see the reaction on Y/N’s face. 
She jumps out of her stool and grabs my hand dragging me to the exit, I make sure to wink and snatch the money out of those douches hands before leaving. 
I guess this is my lucky night. Nope, I didn't trick those guys, my girlfriend was the one who suggested the little act at the bar, destiny put those dudes next to me with all that cash. I just so happen to be there and be good with my lady.
Which right now is very sex-starved, if she could she would rip her clothes into the bar’s bathroom and let me fuck her right there which honestly is not a problem to me. But she was painfully patient to get home and allowed me to give her a proper treatment.
“Baby, please…” She cries as I kiss her 
“Tell me what you want, pretty girl.”
“I want you…now.” she drags the words with her moans “I want this.” Y/N palms cover my package and my erection nearly hammers its way out of my pants.
“My girlfriend will not like this.”
“I'm sure she will, she actually wants me to take you with my mouth.” 
That's it. Goodbye, roleplay. I might explode before taking my underwear.
I'm kissing Y/N before either of us can move an inch, My tongue slides through her parted lips in a greedy stroke. She gasps with delight and kisses me back, her tongue tangling with mine for a few mind-melting seconds before she kisses her way toward my neck. The next second she's unzipping me and slowly sinking into her knees.
“Take your clothes off, baby.” She seductively demands
I kick my boots and pants off quickly. As I peel off my shirt, Y/N digs her nails into my abs, making me curse under my breath. I'm starting to worry that I won't last long.
Y/N leans forward kissing the tip of my dick, I rub my fingers into her lips, and she teases me with slow and gentle movements, I cup the back of her head and urge her closer. She looks up at me and opens her mouth on command, sliding half of my length inside.
As always, she drives me crazy alternating between deep wet sucks and gentle licks of her tongue. The noises…Man, these whimpers and breathy moans make me insane.
I rock my hips, slowly, trying to keep it under control, until her mouth is wrapped tightly around my base, then, I'm a goner. 
My brain is filled with pleasure, so much so that my body almost fails me. Buried in her throat, I go off without thinking. Y/N swallows all my liquid and gives me one final stroke before rising to her feet.
“You did so well, baby,” I said picking her up. Her legs wrapped around my waist, our lips met once again. I kiss her until we're breathless. I carry her to the bed and pull her off her dress just to find out that, fuck me, no bra, just a tiny pantie. 
Our lips were locked again when I advanced on her until she had no choice but to lay down completely. I get on my knees on the bed and bring my hand in between her legs, her hips jerks off the bed as I rub her clit.
“Barely touched you, baby girl,” I said teasing 
I make sure to give her the taste of her own medicine and slowly remove the underwear. I plant wet kisses on her tights and legs before sliding my fingers onto her. My girlfriend squirms against my finger. I add another one curling them both.
Groaning, I get on my knees, spread her legs with my free hand, and bury myself in between her legs. As soon my tongue touches her slit, Y/N moan so loud that was music to my ears. I pump my fingers a couple more times while kissing and sucking her wetness until my dick can’t take it anymore.
“Jay..get inside me.” She begs
“On it ma’am”
With a grin, I guide my cock inside her. Both of us groan when I slide deeper, she wraps her legs around my waist almost like it’s not enough for her. I resist the urge to go fast and keep my movements calm, but again,  Y/N is more needed than usual, her nails dig into my abs giving scratches.
“God, please…” She whines. 
“Someone is with no patience today.” I grow, adjusting my arms on her side, my thrusts are more frantic, she bulks her hips upwards deepening our contact. I grab her hips giving a firm squeeze as I pound onto her. I let go of one of my hands, to stroke her clit, her moans became more breathless and desperate. 
“I’m gonna come.” She cries, without thinking I take my hands out of clit. Remember what I said earlier? With a second she will be begging.
“Please let me come JJ.” Y/N moans just as I predicted.
I rub her clit again and keep my pace fast until I see her shake under me. It takes me a couple more thrusts to release feeling loopy and with my balls still tingling I collapse next to her.
“Holy shit.” She mumbles between her breath.
“You’re so fucking hot, I can’t.” 
“Give me five minutes and I’ll be good for the next one, “ Y/N says chuckling
“Make it ten.” 
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