#mayor is a sappy poet who doesnt write poety he just stares at you

[beauleifu]

could I ask for a mayor x fem reader fluff for a oneshot?

Sure! Roughly 2k word count, hope you like it!

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MAYOR X READER

Lego Monkie Kid

Context: Takes place after Season 3 of LMK, 'cause we never get to see what happened to the Mayor after being captured and shit. You're just a normal person tryna take care of your idiot man <3

TW: Blood cause we cleaning his wounds. Very light mentions tho, and slight language

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

You live a peaceful life.

That being said, there is nothing peaceful about how you're suddenly woken up. The awful crash makes you sit up straight in your bed, staring around with wide eyes. What the hell was that?!

It sounds like it came from the kitchen.

However, that makes no sense, seeing as you live alone and you didn't invite anyone over. No guests, no friends staying the night to escape the chaos of their own lives. It's just you, the city (Megapolis), and your home. Besides, a swift glance at your alarm clock reveals that it's two in the morning, so you conclude that it's a thief who has definitely broken into your house.

No doubt about it.

You're not ready, though!

All your defenses are slipping through your fingers as you hastily - yet quietly - get out of bed, grab your phone, and shuffle towards the door. Heart beating a mile a minute, you crack it open.

The noise definitely came from the kitchen. You hear something again, and this time a cup must've fallen in the sink. A low, muffled curse reaches your ears, and you bite your lip against the panic. If the intruder is in the kitchen, they have access to all the available weapons you own. One wrong move on your part, and you could scare them and incite an unwanted and deadly confrontation.

Should you go back to sleep? Pretend you didn't notice and let the burglar get away with it? It's not like you have any valuables out in the open screaming steal me! I hate it here!

On the other hand, you're not a coward. You live here; it's your responsibility to defend it - and yourself.

Sighing, you stay as quiet as possible and peek into the kitchen. There are no lights to supply you with any view, but turning on your flashlight would only alert the intruder to your presence.

They're literally in the next room over.

Suddenly, you feel like the intruder; creeping up on someone unknowingly. Not a fun feeling.

Crouching by the corner that separates the kitchen from the next room, you watch the person make their way blindly around, swinging open cabinets, tugging drawers open, all in search of something. It's difficult to make out their frame from the shadows, but from their movements it looks like they're limping. You could be wrong, though.

"Damn. . . . Now where did she say the rags were . . ?"

A honeyed, baritone voice reaches your ears, a soft mumble that should've provoked some sort of panic, but you recognize it almost immediately.

The Mayor.

He's here? Is that really him??

Fumbling for your phone, you straighten and turn the flashlight on, beaming it onto the figure in the kitchen. oh, gosh.

Tall, battered, and bleeding - but definitely your Mayor. His attire is torn in some places, the pinstripe suit giving way to a light blue undershirt. His collar is undone and his hunched frame is decorated with cuts and bruises - too many to count, and too many to keep you from worrying.

The Mayor spins around, wobbling as he attempts to right himself, one hand tightly gripping the counter. "Wha- . . . Ah. Did I wake you?"

You stare, open-mouthed. This is probably the weirdest thing you've witness all year. Your idiot, the high-and-mighty henchman to the one and only Lady Bone Demon, has deemed it perfectly fine to be in your kitchen unannounced at 2 a.m., looking like absolute shit, and all he does is ask if he woke you up?

The hell??

"What the fuck are you doing here?!" "You whisper-yell.

There's something in the bone demon's grip; he suddenly holds it up in one bloodied hand for emphasis, revealing white bandages. "I'm assessing my wounds. Do you keep any rags in your kitchen, by chance?"

Holy shit. One hand goes to grip your head while other still maintains a rather shaky grip on your phone. "Uh . . . yeah . . ? Yeah. Gimme a second," you say, clearing your throat. There's no reasoning with this lunatic, however much he's grown on you. Sauntering up to one of the kitchen drawers, you pull it open and take out a random towel and continue; "You don't have to use a rag, y'know. I'm not an expert, but I'm sure it would only make it worse . . ?"

Perhaps it wouldn't, though. Considering how your idiot is a demon and probably heals in unnatural ways.

"Thank you," the Mayor says, half sighing.

Spinning on heel, you wield the towel like a weapon. "Okay. Now tell me what the fuck is going on. Why are you here??"

He simply stares at you with a somewhat strained grin. It's not the one you're used to; peaceful, bright, wide. Sometimes he'd smile softly, and that's what makes the butterflies erupt within you. But this smile is different. It's forced, and you can't understand why the Mayor is still trying to smile despite being in pain.

With a sigh, you shake your head. "All right, forget the questions. Just . . . are you okay?"

The demon blinks slowly at you, eyes white and blank. "Yes."

"Oh. Gotcha. Um, you wanna take care of all . . . this-" You gesture halfheartedly you the Mayor's wounds, then point to the kitchen table; "somewhere more comfortable?"

"That would be preferable."

Okay.

All right.

You can do this. As you mentally harden yourself, the Mayor takes a seat on one of the chairs, unrolling a bit of the bandages in preparation. The numerous cuts on his body is alarming, and your hands tremble slightly as you wet the towel. Without another word, you drop the item on the table and step back, awkwardly shoving your hands into your pockets. The Mayor's smile softens a tad as be begins addressing his wounds, seemingly too focused to offer his usual.

There's no more need for you, apparently.

You can go right back to bed.

But your feet are glued to the floor, anchored by a feeling you've been desperately trying to suppress the second you realized the entity in your kitchen was someone you know and trust.

So now, you just look stupid standing awkwardly in your pajamas.

The Mayor's white eyes glance up at you, curiosity glowing in their depths. You've come to recognize the faint glimmers of emotions your idiot expresses over time, but it wasn't easy at first. The Mayor was a blank slate until you came to know him better.

A fond and knowing smile lights his face. "I assume you wish you assist, my dear?"

Butterflies.

You nod hurriedly, taking a seat beside the Mayor. "I-I'm no expert, but if there's something you can't reach I can totally help."

"That would be lovely," the Mayor hums, shifting to face you and offering you the damp towel. Amusement enters his voice. "Why don't we make a deal? You help me take care of my little dilemma, and I shall answer any questions you may have."

"Did you assume I have questions, or are you just a sucker for storytelling?" You deadpan.

Your friend merely smiles. With a huff, you take the towel and gently take his arm in your hands. Trying to be as methodic as possible, you clear his arm of all the dried blood, grimacing at all the bruises and cuts. Whenever you catch the Mayor flinch the tiniest bit you're apologizing so fast it should be added to the book of world records. However, he always reassures you with a kind smile and a soft voice that pain is inevitable when treating wounds. That you're doing a wonderful job helping him, and he's very thankful you've taken his unexpected and sudden visit so well.

Eyes on the task at hand, you mumble out your question. "So . . . so what fresh hell did you crawl out of before breaking into my kitchen?"

"I had an unfortunate quarrel with an enemy of my mistress," the Mayor answers smoothly, eyes on you instead of his arm. "The Monkey King made an attempt to sway her from her destiny, and it was my mission to deter him."

Interesting.

There's something harsh and full of venom in the way he says Monkey King. You ignore it. "And you lost, didn't you?"

He catches the slight tease in your voice, and his suspicion only increases when you look up with a mischievous grin. The Mayor snorts, casting his gaze to the side, but he's unable to hold back a grudging smile. "Hmm. What makes you think that, my dear?"

"Oh, I dunno," you say, taking the bandages and wrapping his arm. "Maybe because you snuck into my home with your tail between your legs."

"I possess no tail whatsoever."

"You're a demon, so why not? And I was just relating what you did to a scared puppy."

The Mayor lets out a long, thoughtful hum, but perhaps he only did so to make you stop talking. You laugh, grinning stupidly at him as he rests his chin on the back of his hand. As you take his other arm for a proper check-up, his lips curl into a smirk, eyebrows high and eyes half-lidded. Damnit, you know that look very well. "I advise you to choose your next words very carefully, love."

"I'm just saying!" You say, chuckling. With one hand, you brush his unkept hair to the side and out of his eyes. "Old Monkey Man must've rocked you up pretty hard, huh? You look like shit."

He grimaces. "Yeees, I'd much rather have visited in something more presentable, though. My apologies."

You blink. What.

A dangerous entity, slave to an even more powerful bone demon, is apologizing to you - you, of all people. What a sight. Smiling softly, you lock eyes with him and hum. "D'awww, you feel bad for looking like hell on earth in front of me? I'm honored."

"So you are," the Mayor says sneakily, glancing at your fingers in his hair.

Quickly, you drop your hand - only for him to seize it gently and bring it to his lips, where he presses a small kiss to the back of your hand. Your eyes go wide, butterflies erupting in your stomach.

Uh.

Damnit.

He's adorable.

"I-Is this how you normally thank people?" You stutter.

His eyes flick up as he lets go of you, a smirk twisting his mouth when he leans back. "You're a special case, sweetheart."

"Huh. Okay. Are you, um . . ." You avert your gaze, hyper-focused on patching a cut on his cheek. There's just one question you're dying to ask, but all the possible answers are dreadfully scary. Clearing your throat, you decide to get it over with. "You wanna stay the night?"

A beat. The Mayor's expression is fond. "Is this how you normally help people?"

"Ha!" Since your hands are already working on his face, you decide to pinch his cheek lightly. The demon's smirk merely widens, a deep, rumbling chuckle sounding from his chest. You snort, trying to maintain any sort of dignity. "Yes or no, idiot."

One of his hands goes to rest over yours on his face. His eyes are glazed over, smile once again relaxed and sappy. "Of course, my lady."

Anyone would say the Mayor looks absolutely lovestruck.

Unfortunately, you don't realize it until you're buried in the coolness of his arms, swathed in blankets on your bed as you listen to his breathing slow. He doesn't require sleep, but is happy to help you to do so, and after you'd finished bandaging him up, he'd finished telling his tale of woe, and you did exactly the things he liked; played with his hair, offered to sleep in your bed, and begged him to disassociate himself with LBD.

Hopefully this time around, he'll listen.

He's a keeper.

#lmk #lego monkie kid #lmk story #lmk mayor #Mayor x reader #fluff #blood/injury #yes your honor they're in love #oneshot #2 am talks #so much fluff #mayor is a sappy poet who doesnt write poety he just stares at you #like he thinks he's communicated but no #he just comes off as creepy #but we love him #thanks for the ask! #not me staying up til 2am to write this lol