#rather than always chasing after and trying to be someone else | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

saerins · 1 year

Text

─── 𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓

+ nagi seishiro x f!reader | wc 3.2k | content: fluff, ngl i was too lazy to proof this, childhood friends to lovers, canon-compliant (i tried), yn’s parents are just bad

notes: me ?? writing someone other than sae ?? wild . but it’s my first try at nagi so pls have mercy :’) feedbacks/reblogs appreciated !! <3

summary: it’s a little more difficult for nagi to realise his feelings compared to the average man.

i. fleeting moment

nagi seishiro was your first kiss, age ten on the swings of your backyard.

you’re only friends by chance. he was a loner on the swings in the public playground and you have a habit of picking up strays. (but until then, it had been limited to animals and not humans.)

yeah, yeah, maybe having a first kiss at the young age of ten is a little alarming, but it’s not like nagi is a bad person. if anything, he was just trying to shut you up. probably, maybe. (and it wasn’t with tongue, if anyone needs the specifics.)

“if you keep crying that loudly i won’t be able to hear my game,” nagi grumbled, eyes glued to his screen. apparently he was playing some pseudo horror game where four fighters run from a single hunter and apparently he needed to listen to the sounds to know when to run.

but really, you were ten and crying because some other boy bullied you in the playground, saying how you were so ugly and that no boy would ever wanna kiss you. given all of that, why would you even care about nagi’s stupid game?

if he didn’t want to be bothered, he shouldn’t have chased you all the way back home.

“but seishiro, am i really ugly?” you were ten and in need of immediate validation while nagi was in need of your immediate silence.

he didn’t even look up. “that’s subjective.”

even when he was young he had a smart mouth that would be able to break you.

“well then what do you think?” because honestly, even at that point, you thought nagi seishiro was handsome; he was the face claim you used to imagine all your scenarios at night before you went to sleep.

he was your knight in shining armor, coming to break you free from the cage which was your life and obligations. he was your prince charming who’d rescue you above all else. heck, sometimes he was mario and you were princess peach.

seishiro groaned when the screen shows game over and honestly, he really did think it was all your fault because he couldn’t hear anything over your incessant wailing. but then he looked at you for the first time after you cried and had the recurring thought that he didn’t want to be the reason for you to keep on crying.

“yeah, you’re pretty.”

and he puts his lips on yours like it’s no big deal.

ii. unreciprocated

fifteen is when you’re most rebellious. it’s a sickness you get from none other than mikage reo.

your family and the mikages go way back. they’d been family friends for such a long time. a part of you feels it’s not genuine, blinded by the fact that they’re always business partners and everything else stemmed from that one simple fact.

you started to play hooky from business dinners, started to say fuck off to rude old geasers who truly didn’t deserve a single dime they got.

all you ever got in return was your father’s temper and your mother’s cowardice and reo’s praises. most of all you at least had nagi’s shoulder to cry on. (he’s learned to bring along his earpiece just in case he had to meet you or accidentally bumped into you.)

“they all sicken me,” was what reo told you when you asked about his family in relation to their business. you could sympathise. sometimes all you could feel from your parents were that they treated you as a next-in-line rather than just daughter. and almost everyone around you made you feel like you were just a moneybag.

what reo felt shouldn’t have been too far off. except you thought he had it better; at least all his parents did was try to spoil him while not-so-subtly training him up to be the next ceo. he at least didn’t suffer at the hands of foul tempers and verbal abuse.

no one should have to.

“oh shit! i gotta go soon,” you realised, noticing that it was almost six and you’d made plans with nagi.

reo cocked a brow, “y/n l/n, you have other friends?”

you knew he was joking, but that didn’t stop you from landing the hardest punch you could on his arms. “hey, i’m not that inept at socialising okay?”

sure, you’d started taking caution with making friends because most of them were just after one thing: money. even at this age. which is crazy to you, at least, but you felt you had no right to think that. not when all the money you wanted was still at your disposal.

but you weren’t actually bad at making friends. it was just that maybe most people weren’t even worth the effort.

“they’re good to you, right?”

you took a moment to decide before you eventually nodded. “yeah, for sure.”

nagi was… weird, for you. but in the good sense. yeah, he’d open his mouth and ask you for money which at least told you he was honest. even if you rejected him, though, he was still beside you.

“man, what a hassle,” he grumbled when you wouldn’t buy any more food. he was broke, which meant he couldn’t eat anymore too if you didn’t buy some.

the two of you still never talked about that kiss. it never happened again, to your dismay.

you were a teen, and screw stupid teen hormones for driving you to ask him.

“hey sei, we’re good friends, right?”

“huh?” nagi was already fixated on his phone. probably some new game you didn’t know about. his earpieces were ready, around his neck. “uh, i guess?”

but that was not good enough for your feisty fifteen-year-old self.

“sei, i’m serious! would you be sad if one day we weren’t friends anymore?”

back then you didn’t know what you were doing. back then you didn’t think to yourself what it was, really, that you were trying to get out of him. maybe it was validation, and maybe it was just boredom.

you really just wanted to know nagi cared.

all he did was shrug, brows furrowed in annoyance. “that’s life, isn’t it? sometimes friends drift and sometimes they don’t.”

throwing wisdom around as if that was what you needed. and it was unfair to expect anything out of nagi as it was, but that didn’t stop you from throwing a tantrum and storming off.

(he watched you as you left, and there was something unsettling about the sight of your back moving so far away.)

iii. turning point

the world is small.

when you were sixteen you realised that the so called treasure reo told you he found was a human, who so happened to be your friend—nagi seishiro.

teeny tiny.

they also both happened to be picked by the JFU to go to blue lock. which you only found out after they’d both been gone for a week.

it didn’t surprise you though—they were both talented. it was only right they got picked. though, they also happened to be the only two people you would hang out with, so by default you felt lonely.

but at sixteen you’d learned to suck it up, hide your feelings. everything was okay—as long as you deceived yourself so. your parents were the same; overbearing and breathing down your neck and now that reo was not around for you and nagi couldn’t be your confidant, it felt much worse than usual.

everything was a transaction and you felt suffocated. it made you appreciate nagi’s unfiltered honesty and reo’s unwavering loyalty to whatever you dedicated yourself to.

“at least that reo boy has some other talents like that foolish soccer he plays,” your father berated over dinner. “and here my daughter is, good for nothing yet expects us to believe her when she says she can make a living outside of our company.”

and if you’d had other close friends, they would’ve told you that sixteen was too young to be sure what you wanted to do for the rest of your life. they’d have said your parents were unreasonable and that they were the fools.

but you didn’t. and the only friends you had weren’t around. so you ate it up. you clenched your fists where your parents couldn’t see and let them run their mouth. or, in your mother’s case, stay silent while your father made unreasonable arguments.

“and that nagi boy you hang out with,” your father turned his focus to him, “all he reeks of is laziness. i don’t get why you have to hang out with him all the time. inviting that oaf into our house like he’s welcome.”

that time your fists hit the table and you didn’t even expect it. it hurt because of how hard you hit but nothing could beat the hurt your father inflicted on your heart.

you found you couldn’t say anything, only because your father’s eyes were wide with rage at your outburst and you were still the same scared girl inside at age four when he first raised his voice at you.

“i-i’m sorry,” you choked out, which was pathetic but you didn’t want to end up murdered in your own house.

your father scoffed. “get your stupid head out of your ass or you’re cut off.”

the only time you could do that was when nagi and reo finally got their first break out of blue lock. you occupied their time for the most of it, listened to them going on and on about the matches that went on inside. though reo seemed a little mad at nagi, a little awkward around him, for some reason you weren’t privy to.

“i’m gonna head home first,” and reo was gone with the wave of a hand, something about having to settle something at home—probably nothing good.

maybe it was the lovestruck idiot in you talking, but you’d made peace with the fact that maybe you had a small crush on nagi seishiro, judging by how you acted around him. maybe it was that idiot that made you want to spend all of his free time together.

“guess i’ll see you tomorrow too?” sue you, you were just trying to shoot your shot.

nagi put his phone in his pocket, for once, and you were struggling to remain standing as he held eye contact with you, calm gray eyes the bane of your existence. “mmm can’t, gotta meet isagi and the rest.”

isagi, a name you’d just learned earlier—apparently nagi thought he was strong and chose his team. maybe that was why reo was mad.

“oh, okay then.” you’d ask for the next day, but you didn’t want to get rejected twice. besides, nagi would probably just prefer playing games and resting at home. you were just friends, after all.

“was thinking we could get dinner though,” nagi told you, hands in his pockets as the both of you walked down the street.

that was the first time he ever extended an effort, you remember. and suddenly life wasn’t that bad anymore.

it was also the first time nagi asked you to feed him, not because he was playing some game but on purpose.

and you didn’t know how it turned out that way, but he ended up taking up all of your time. it was the only reason you had the ability to fill him in on your family, and he actually listened. and, like reo, he said “fuck them.”

maybe that was the point you realised maybe he did care.

but for a girl at seventeen just concerned with romance and happiness, it was paradise—until of course he went back to blue lock, taking your heart with him.

(what you both failed to realise was that he left his with you.)

iv. slow realisation

in the bleachers of his first match out of blue lock, nagi seishiro spots you easily in the front row—wearing his jersey and number, when did you buy that?

doesn’t change the fact that nagi likes seeing it on you. he’s not familiar with the feeling, but it’s equivalent to saying you like him the most, which feels great if he’s honest to himself.

what he doesn’t like is the guy next to you. sharp jawline and spiky hair wearing a business suit and his raven eyes are always peeking at you out of the corner. does he like you?

but the whistle blows and nagi forgets about you for a little over ninety minutes. he’s going to show you he can win this, with you watching from the front row, and he’ll show you why he’s the best and that other guys in business suits don’t matter.

after the game reo makes a big deal out of the fact you’re wearing nagi’s jersey and not his, and nagi finds out the guy with you was someone your dad wanted to hook you up with.

twisted business marriages.

“i’m just going out with him to shut my father up,” you admit to nagi when you’re both finally alone. (aka, after you’ve convinced reo to pry him away and leave you two alone.)

nagi’s not used to this. what’s this relief he feels? “oh, good to know,” is all he says because he doesn’t even understand himself.

he isn’t even sure why he’s here in the first place, walking you home. he’s not sure why reo left when he could’ve driven all of you home instead of just mr business-suit-guy.

“how’s it feel now, to be mr popular?” you’re not even sure why you’re asking. maybe because you feel like the gap between you and nagi grew so wide in such a short period of time and you’d do anything to hear him say that he’s still the same seishiro you knew.

your seishiro.

nagi only shrugs, “dunno. don’t really feel the difference.”

because really, apart from the fact that he’s much more busy, he’s still him—playing games when he’s free, texting you because that happens to fall in the list of things he likes to do now, and well, the only difference he feels is—he takes a peek to his side—you, somehow.

not because of anything you do in particular, but he feels different somehow. and he can’t make sense of it. he never can. how’s he supposed to? no one ever warned him about shit like this.

“uh, nagi? have you ever thought that maybe you like her?” reo tells him over the phone later that night, a little baffled by the things his usually detached friend just told him.

“you like her too though,” nagi retorts.

reo sighs, wondering how nagi ever made it to where he is. “not in the same way.”

“what do you mean?”

“figure it out yourself.”

nagi hangs up, thinking he already has it figured out. he also thinks reo will keep his mouth shut.

he doesn’t.

v. requited

it’s funny how reo rushed to call you that night, right after nagi basically told him (without saying it explicitly) that he has a crush on you.

but it’s also funny how it’s been three months since then and nagi still hasn’t said anything about it. you play ignorant around him, waiting and waiting for him to admit it himself.

evidently it’s not working.

tonight you’re just watching him on the screen, cheering him on from the other side of the world because despite being from a rich family you can’t just up and leave to another country as and when you feel like it.

besides, you’ve made peace with your parents; you’d learn about the family business willingly as long as they stopped interfering with your personal life. they surprisingly agreed.

nagi and reo win, as you expected, and as usual, the cameras trail their team as they celebrate on the field, their captain having tore his shirt off to celebrate that they’d won the tournament. it’s not long before the camera pans back to nagi, a few reporters already surrounding him.

“so nagi, how do you feel right now?”

“great,” he answers, with a sexy amount of enthusiasm. he’s rarely ever enthused, but you find it so much more attractive when he is.

nagi has his phone in his hand, you notice, and you immediately fish for yours. he’d texted you right before they started hounding him.

are you watching?

you smile as you type back.

no. congrats on becoming champions! 🫶🏼

“nagi nagi, who would you like to dedicate this win to?” the reporters are all clambering to get a chance to question him.

“oh i don’t know,” nagi says, and you catch him looking at your message before looking back at the camera. “i guess i’ll dedicate this one to this girl i like.”

you nearly spit out your drink.

“wait, does this mean you’re involved with someone? tell us, who is it!”

all the reporters get excited, and understandably, since nagi’s probably just about given them the biggest scoop for the month. they’re all looking at him, money signs in their eyes, while your jaw drops open as he overshares with the entire world.

“oh, y/n l/n, she’s been my friend since forever and i don’t know… i kinda like her a lot,” he’s saying all this earnestly, a hand scratching his neck and a blush creeping on his face, though he doesn’t look the least bit fazed.

you rush to find his chat thread.

nagi, what the fuck!!!

you did NOT just say my name on live tv!!!

on the screen, he openly looks at your messages before typing a reply as the reporters hound him for more details.

oh shit, m i not supposed to?

“nagi, is she the one texting you right now?”

and like the honest guy he is, he nods. “oh yeah, think she’s mad at me right now.”

you curl up under your blanket, flustered because nagi is way too open and way too precious.

“would you like to say anything here to her now?”

nagi looks off camera and hums in contemplation before finally deciding on a response.

“hey y/n, tomorrow i’m gonna make you mine okay? so just wait for me.”

reo finally drags him away and towards the rest of his team and his interview ends there. you switch the television off, half mortified and half flattered. your phone blows up with most of your contacts gushing over what nagi said.

leave it up to nagi seishiro to have feelings for you, not realise it until years later, not tell you in the whole three months before this and yet announces it and your full name to the entire world on live television.

in spite of how flabbergasted you are, there’s a warm sensation blooming underneath your chest, a comfort that you’ve always been looking for finally fulfilled. there’s a certain endearment in the way nagi realises and professes his feelings.

you pull up his messages again.

you better keep your word, sei.

it doesn’t take him long to respond.

don’t worry, i’ll make you mine.

#bllk x reader #nagi x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #blue lock x reader #nagi x you #nagi x y/n #nagi fluff #bllk fluff #nagi imagines #bllk imagines #blue lock fluff #nagi seishiro fluff #bllk nagi x reader #nagi seishiro x you #nagi seishiro x y/n #૪ aeri’s fics !

3K notes · View notes

lovries · 1 year

Text

YOU HAVE A CUTE FACE

featuring. the demon brothers (lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub, belphegor). (the dateables version).

summary. whilst staring at his face, you've come to the conclusion that he has a very cute face— and of course you have to let him know.

warning. gn! reader.

꒰ ♡ ꒱ ─── LUCIFER

Lucifer was just trying to eat his breakfast, but your intense staring was beginning to unnerve him. He looked up at you, a brow raised at your concerning and strange actions. "Can I help you with something?" He sounds more worried than annoyed like you thought he would be.

"You have a very cute face." Was how you responded to his question, because you just so happened to realize how adorable he was as he happily ate some delicious breakfast— which he is now trying not to choke on.

You've definitely caught him off guard.

Cute. Cute?

Lucifer was aware he was a good looking person, but he definitely wouldn't use the word 'cute' to describe himself. To be honest, he's a bit miffed that you didn't use something like 'handsome' or 'alluring' but he'll take what he can get, he supposes.

He sighs, shaking your head at your nonsense. "You are something else." He says simply, "I think it'd be much more fitting to say you're the cute one in this relationship."

Lucifer doesn't think more of it after that, although everyone definitely notices the little smile that occupies his face for the rest of the day.

꒰ ♡ ꒱ ─── MAMMON

"Oi, why're ya starin'?" Mammon had just been laying on his bed, scrolling through his D.D.D., when he felt your gaze piercing holes through the side of his face. He set his phone aside, sending you an annoyed glare. "Eh? Human? What's the matter with ya?"

"Sorry," You blink out of your trance, grinning up at him. "You just have a really cute face."

"Wha- What the hell are ya talkin' about, don't say weird stuff like that..." He grumbles, quickly turning his head the other way. He would rather join an eating contest with Beelzebub than let you see his softened gaze and blushing cheeks.

"Is that weird?" You chuckle, "I was just being honest~" You coo, deciding to tease him. Of course you knew your words managed to get him flustered (they always do, after all). He huffs, swiftly grab his pillow and throwing it at you.

"What did I just say?" He whines, standing up and giving a little pout.

"Yep, absolutely adorable." You laugh when his eye twitches, only to get hit in the face again with a pillow— however it doesn't quell your laughter at all, instead it only encourages it, your laughs bubbling over.

... You had to chase after him to apologize, so he hopefully wouldn't be too mad at you for the rest of the day.

꒰ ♡ ꒱ ─── LEVIATHAN

Leviathan honestly didn't notice your staring until he paused his anime and turned to tell you about a fun fact, only then seeing the fiery passion in your eyes. "W- Why are you looking at me like that?" He felt like he was being stared down by someone like Lucifer, or maybe even Cerberus! It was scary!

"Levi... You're face..." What? What about his face? He hesitantly touched it, fearing he maybe had some crumbs on his face or something, when you said, "It's incredibly cute!"

His eyes nearly bulge out of his head, the tips of his ears turning a bright red. He coughed awkwardly, looking back at the screen. He couldn't bear to face you right now. "Me? Are you sure you mean me?" He asks, biting at his cheek. "A- Are you sure you're not getting me mixed up with one of my brothers or-"

"Nope, I definitely mean you, Levi!"

He feels lightheaded, almost a little nauseous. You think he's cute. Like really, truly believe that! His heart is going to give out! He awkwardly coughs into his fist again.

"I- I don't know what to say... uhm... you're.... c- cute too..."

Nope. He can't take it! He's hiding his burning hot face in his hands, he won't be able to look at you for the next 24 hours.

꒰ ♡ ꒱ ─── SATAN

Satan knows. Of course he does, he always know, still... He can't help but set his book to the side and quirk a brow at you. "Is there perhaps a reason to your staring, or...?" Although you're a little shocked at being caught (honestly, you weren't being subtle at all...) you still decide to tell him what's on your mind.

"You just have a cute face, that's all."

Satan can't help but grin, but he tries his best to hide it behind his fist. "I see, so that's it." It's silent for a few seconds, and he's just staring at you now. He seems to snap out of his daze, and chuckles. "Sorry, you're face is rather cute too."

That's right, Satan managed to turn the situation around entirely. He enjoys seeing you get flustered, watching as you turn back to the book you're reading. "Oh? Embarrassed? Aren't you the one who started this, hm?"

Next time, you think, you'll keep your thoughts to yourself.

꒰ ♡ ꒱ ─── ASMODEUS

Oh, Asmodeus knows why you're staring at him— it's the reason most people stare at him, but one of his favorite things is getting people to admit why they're staring at him.

Asmo chuckles, shutting your slightly agape mouth and effectively snapping you out of your daze. "Tell me, darling, what seems to have captured your interest so fully, hmm?"

What... Captured... Your attention?

"Ah, your face! It's really cute, Asmo!" You smile up at him, and his eyes widen a fraction. Cute? Well aren't you just wholesome! He definitely wasn't expecting that to be your answer, although it's in the same vein as the usual answers he receives. Either way, Asmo giggles, pinching your cheek.

"Aww darling, you're super cute too! How about we both be adorable together, okay?" Asmo takes your hands and pulls you out of your seat, "Let's go shopping for matching outfits, what do you think? Then we can be even cuter!"

You don't think that's possible, after all, Asmodeus is the cutest thing alive, but...

"Okay, let's go!"

꒰ ♡ ꒱ ─── BEELZEBUB

You were studying with Beelzebub, however your words trailed off as you noticed how concentrated he looked. He really wanted to get good grades and make Lucifer proud. It was just too cute; he was too cute.

You didn't even realize you were staring at him until he called your name. "Are you okay?" You blink a few times, your heart racing at being caught staring. "Are you hungry, should we take a break?"

"I'm fine," You wave your hand dismissively, silencing his worries. "Your face is just cute, that's all..." Trying to calm his worry, it seems you rambled out the truth behind your dazed look. Your face instantly drops, and Beel can see you're obviously embarrassed by your blunt words. "Uh, I mean, well I-"

The sound of him trying to stifle his laughter cuts you off, and anxiety begins to fill your thoughts. Was he... laughing at you? You knew Beel would never do that, but still... Eventually he managed to calm himself, a content smile on his lips.

"You're cute too, Y/n."

꒰ ♡ ꒱ ─── BELPHEGOR

You were disturbing Belphegors peace. He said you could stay with him as long as you didn't disturb him, but look at what you were doing! He was tossing and turning! Him! He huffs, rolling on to his stomach and turning his head to look at you, an annoyed glare now staring back at you.

"Belphie? I thought you were sleeping!"

"How could I when you're staring at me like that, hm?" He sighs, propping himself up on his elbows. "What? Am I that good looking or something? Can't take your eyes off of me?" He really just wanted to tease you so that you'd hopefully get annoyed and leave him to sleep, but instead you look... embarrassed?

"Well... You have a cute face, you know?"

... Oh.

Belphie sighs, plopping back down and rolling on to his back. "You're so weird..." He grumbles, however if you try to leave you find his cow tail wrapping around your ankle. "I didn't say you could leave... Get under the covers and take a nap with me— try not to stare at me this time." He smirks. Sometimes you do want to punch him, even if he does have a cute face.

﹙ thank you for reading! have a wonderful day! ﹚

4K notes · View notes

mydearlybeloathed · 2 months

Text

𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: all his life, zoro had been dragging you away from danger. but sometimes, you just slip through his fingers.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: roronoa zoro x sister!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.8k

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: swearing, use of Y/N, reader is zoro's sister, fluff before the angst, canon typical violence, death, can be interpreted as both anime and live action zoro, apparently all i do is angst now 🥰

𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: fine line, instrumental

For as long as Zoro could remember, he’d been the one looking after you. Day and night, he watched your every move, ensuring you didn’t do anything stupid. Doing stupid stuff just happened to your favorite hobby. It was taxing keeping you out of trouble, sure, but Zoro was all you had left, so despite only being a year your elder, he took it upon himself to care for you.

But he was so young, and you were so… unhelpful.

Reckless. Wild. Unthinking. A menace, that’s what you were. Zoro could barely even blink before he was dragging you away from a cliff’s watery edge by your ear.

“But Zoro!” you whined.

“But nothing,” he gritted.

You grew more restless by the hour, it seemed, always trying to tug him along on an adventure you swore would be worth his time. Zoro relented most days, if only to keep you alive (Because he’d never admit your adventures were actually fun).

Zoro supposed your habit of wandering off wasn’t so bad. You were the whole reason he’d found the dojo in Shimotsuki Village, after all, having wandered so far you reached another end of the island for him to chase you to. Besides, he was in no place to talk; he got lost just as easily, if not more.

Difficult didn’t do the feeling of trying to keep up with you justice, and it only grew harder the older the pair of you got.

“Come on, Zoro!” you pleaded, gripping his hand.

“I’m busy,” he muttered, shrugging you off.

He spent his days studying the blade, and you were left to your own devices until an old tutor got her hands on you, teaching you mathematics and literature day in and day out. Every night before bed you complained and complained, whining that you’d much rather be running around the pastures or, better yet, training with Zoro.

But there was an ever-widening gap between you and your brother, even if you didn’t see it just yet. In your eyes, things were just the same as always, but your brother was headed on a very different path.

He would go down in history, no doubt. Your tutor and most of the village agreed. And you… well, no one knew what to make of you. You were simply there most days.

And as days came and went, Zoro paid less and less attention to you. It used to be easy to distract him into playing make believe, pretending to be pirates battling over treasure, but then he and Kuina made their vow, and Zoro threw himself further into his training.

And you, more interested in pretending than actually fighting, fell behind.

All you’d wanted to do was play with him and Kuina, but Zoro seemed adamant on being mean that day.

“We’re not playing,” he snarled back at you. “We’re training. Go play with someone else.”

You huffed and tried to stomp on his foot, missing by an inch. “Nobody here likes me! And I can train too!”

“Really?” Zoro scoffed. “You can barely even walk without tripping.”

Kuina stood off to the side, waiting for her friend to join her again, when she’d had enough of his sour tone. “Zoro, don’t be cruel.” Her sharp eyes roamed to you. “If you go find a training sword, we’ll let you come with us.”

Your whole face lit up, nodding quickly as you set off at a sprint to the dojo. Zoro groaned and turned to glare at her. “Why would you say that?”

“Because,” Kuina snapped, gripping his wrist and dragging him back down the path. “Now we have a head start.”

A few minutes later, you rushed back to where you’d left Kuina and Zoro, a training sword in hand, and briefly tripped over a raised stone. When you lifted your head, smiling brightly, they were gone, far off into the forest to train alone.

Some of the other kids from the dojo walked past, heading inside, when they spotted her. One leaned into the other, whispering just loud enough for you to hear: “Pathetic. Does she not have a life?”

Your lips curled into a frown and you threw down the sword, gritting your teeth.

Zoro apologized later, of course, eventually feeling bad when he came home to find you sulking in the corner. He promised he’d teach you how to wield a sword someday, which did wind up dragging a little smile out of you. Yet, that day never came. Weeks and months went by and Zoro drifted further and farther away.

But you just couldn’t let him go, nagging and nagging and nagging.

“Can I train with you and Kuina today?” you asked, meeker than usual. You figured you knew the answer, but still, you had the nerve to hope.

But then Zoro shifted awkwardly, hesitating to answer, and you just wanted to go back to your books. You’d gotten a new one recently, about the ocean and its mystery.

“Listen,” he started. “I’ll play with you when we get back, okay?”

Your jaw set. Usually, you backed down pretty quick. You respected yourself enough to not chase after him all day. Today was different, though. Today was your birthday. “I don’t want to play. I want to train to be strong like you and Kuina.”

“Then I’ll train with you later.”

He was gone the next moment, kicking up dust as he left you all alone. You wanted to hate him, since hating was usually so easy for you, but you couldn’t.

Zoro was all you had left.

But he had someone else besides you, someone he much preferred to spend his time with: Kuina.

You found it was much easier to hate Kuina.

You weren’t at all subtle either. From little jabs to plain glaring, Kuina got the message. To your great disdain, she found it funny, cute even.

It was your obvious dislike of her that eventually brought her to give you the time of day, approaching you whilst you were reading.

“Good book?” came the voice of your arch nemesis.

Glaring up at her, you pushed your reading glasses up your nose and shifted away from her, refusing to respond.

Her breathy laugh only spoiled your evening further. “I take that as a no…?”

“Leave me alone, Kuina.”

Instead, she sat down beside you, leering over your shoulder to see what you were reading. “History? Sounds… fun.” You shifted away from her, and she followed. “Do those glasses really help?”

You snapped your book shut just as she reached to touch the page, nearly getting her finger. “I don’t know why Zoro likes you so much. You’re annoying.”

She grinned at you like you’d fallen right into her trap. “Is that why you don’t like me? ‘Cause Zoro won’t hang out with you anymore?”

As if she wasn’t infuriating enough, she was also very right. You jumped to your feet and glowered down at her. “You know what your problem is?”

She was standing in an instant, towering over you with that damn smile. “You gonna tell me, Roronoa?”

“Yeah!” You clenched your fists and grit your teeth. “You’re—You’re a brother stealer!”

“A brother stealer?” She had the nerve to laugh. “Please. We’re training to be the greatest swordsman or swordswoman in the world.”

You exasperated, “So?”

“So,” she said, “I’m not trying to steal your brother. But I can help you steal him back.”

Breathing heavily, you slowly lost your fire, confusion washing over your face. “What?”

Kuina shrugged. “I’ll train with you.”

Sputtering, “And why would I wanna train with you?”

“Because I’m the only one here who can beat Zoro.” She leveled her gaze with yours, something evil in that smirk of hers. “You wanna impress him? Train with me.”

“I…” She was serious. You’d seen the hard look in her eyes before; it’s how she looked right before she kicked somebody’s ass. You swallowed thickly. “Okay.”

That was how it started. An hour before Zoro was up, early before the sun, you and Kuina got to work. You were a tough student, with a spitfire attitude akin to your brother’s and all the clumsiness he lacked.

When you tried to quit, Kuina advanced with her sword two times as fast, forcing you to block and parry like she knew you could.

Months went by, and Zoro was all too unaware. You and Kuina had done a good job of keeping up pretenses, sharing secretive grins when Zoro’s back was turned. The one time he nearly found you out was when Kuina’s sword nicked your arm, and Zoro found you haphazardly trying to bandage it up. His line of questioning was rapid fire, panicked in every sense of the word as he did it for you.

Then, Kuina caught you by surprise; she said you were ready, and no amount of frantic head shaking would make her think otherwise.

You didn’t have a real sword, you said, showing her your wooden practice weapon as if to prove it.

She’d simply given you that damn smirk and swapped the wood for her own sword. All breath left you as she closed your hand around her family sword.

That was all the encouragement you needed, and she left you standing outside your little home to get ready for her training session with Zoro. The sun was barely peeking up over the horizon. You could barely hear the sound of Zoro rustling around inside the house behind you, and your fist tightened around the hilt of Kuina’s prized sword.

Zoro briefly wondered why you’d gotten out of bed so early when he noticed your blanket tossed aside, you nowhere in sight. You must be playing somewhere else, he decided, finally ready as he headed outside.

You were certainly not what he expected to find waiting for him. Your hands were held behind your back, your eyes ever like a does. A sigh dragged out of him as he approached you, meaning to walk right by you like he usually did.

“I’ll play with you later—”

In a blink, the shining edge of a blade was in his path. Stumbling back he followed the blade to that familiar hilt, now held by his little sister. The doe eyes were gone, replaced by a serious gaze he was unaccustomed to.

“What about now?” You retracted the sword and took a battle position, arcing the blade around before placing both hands on the hilt.

He backed away from you, crossing his arms, not wanting his hands to be anywhere near the hilts of his blades. “I’m not fighting you.”

That only spurred you on. “You don’t have a choice.”

There was a wary look in his eyes before you surged forth to begin the duel. Kuina stood off to the side, eyes alight, and helped you dust off your clothes when Zoro inevitably knocked you to the dirt in a matter of minutes.

Your chest heaved as you leaned on Kuina, eyes dangerously narrow. You refused to look at Zoro.

“You’ve been training her?” Zoro guessed, not sounding angry or frustrated… just confused, and maybe sad.

Kuina nodded. “We’ve been working, yeah. She’s good, right?”

The compliment meant nothing. Humiliation coursed through your veins, the Wado Ichimonji burning through your skin.

“Whatever,” you murmured, shoving Kuina’s sword back into her hands before stomping off into the woods.

Zoro watched you go, unable to ignore when Kuina bumped his shoulder and said, “She admires you. It’s about time you give her the time of day.”

So he trudged after you, wondering what the hell he was supposed to say.

Zoro wouldn’t say it out loud, but you were good. Far better than he remembered you being. Kuina was probably a better teacher. More patient, most likely.

But… he couldn’t help but wish it’d been him to train you up to be able to wear him out like you did. Zoro swallowed that thought and settled on finding you first, and having regrets later.

He found you sitting on a patch of grass, wiping at your damp face. Zoro made you cry. and he had the sense this wasn’t the first time.

Some brother he was.

So he ditched his hesitation and settled down on the grass beside you, testing the waters. You didn’t sprint off into the brush, so he took that as a good sign.

“What do you want?” you said first.

“I… You did well. Really well.” He pulled at some grass, ripping it apart. “I’m sorry I’ve been…”

“An asshole?” you supplied. “A major dick? A stick in the mud?”

Zoro huffed a laugh. “All of the above?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you said, turning away, going serious again. “I didn’t beat you.”

“Did you expect to?” Your huffy silence was answer enough. “Y/N, I’ve been training for years.”

Your eyes found him then, all slits and sadness. “And I haven’t, yeah, I know. Why’s that, ya think?”

He ruffled slightly. “You could have joined us in the dojo.”

“Like hell I could have. I’ve said it before—those kids don’t like me. Besides, it’s your thing. You would have found some reason I should quit.”

Did he really make you feel that way? Zoro felt it was fair, all the times he’d brushed you off coming to mind, and he grimaced. Then, he started to think. “Why do you want to learn to fight? I didn’t think that was your thing.”

You took your time to answer, tugging at your own grass and tossing it into the wind. “I hate being left behind. I thought if I could impress you, you’d… you’d play with me again.”

Hearing that made Zoro feel so much worse. The pair of you might be getting older, but at the end of the day, you just wanted to be around him. Zoro let the silence hang in space between you for a few moments, before he rolled to the side and swiped a long stick on the ground.

Your confused eyes followed him, widening when he pointed the stick at you. Zoro grinned and started to poke at you, causing you to scramble back on the grass.

“Stand and fight, pirate!” he bellowed.

Immediately, you jumped to your feet, an exhilarated smile popping onto your face. You dodged left and took up your own stick sword, holding it in front of your face as you circled your brother.

Who were you today? A fellow pirate? A pirate confronting a marine admiral? Perhaps you were brother and sister pirates, crossing paths after years of pursuing the other for vengeance. Whatever make believe you and Zoro were in today, you relished in it, knowing someday you’d have to accept the fate of growing up.

So for now, you fought your brother in the only way you were equals: pretending, your imagination spinning circles around his as his skill spun around yours.

Zoro had missed you, he realized. Being so caught up in being better for you, in being the one to make you proud, he forgot how fun simply existing alongside you could be.

So he followed you deep into the woods, tripping over his own feet and grunting at your lofty laughter. You led him up hills and through brush, up trees and back down, and all around the island till Zoro couldn’t help but wonder what exactly you saw in the forest that he didn’t.

“That girl is wild,” your tutor said once. “It’s like she’s more at home in the trees.”

She said it in some kind of scornful way that mothers do, when they’re half upset and half in reluctant wonderment. He had to agree with the old woman, for if Zoro couldn’t find you, chances were he’d discover you in the forest, atop a rock or up in a tree.

Oftentimes, if it wasn’t Zoro clinging to the lower branches while you laughed at him, Kuina was with you. Neither of you had ever wanted for a sister, but neither of you were exactly complaining either.

Zoro stood with his hands planted on his hips, head tilted back and still not exactly able to see where you and Kuina sat giggling amidst the branches of the ancient oak tree.

“Y/N!” he shouted, hoping his voice would at least reach you. “Come down!”

“No!” you laughed back down. A few leaves trickled down, and a pang jerked Zoro’s heart around. How high up were you?

“It’s not safe!”

Kuina rolled her eyes. “Says you! We’re fine!”

He hardly believed her, his nails starting to dig into his palms. “C’mon! It’s gettin’ dark!”

You looked toward the horizon line, spotting the sun just as she dipped behind the mountains. Instantly, you were entranced, aching to join her. The wind whistled in your ears, as it often did, and you leaned forward just a bit.

“He’s right,” Kuina huffed. “My dad will be mad if I get home after dark.” When you didn’t reply, she tried to catch your faraway gaze. “Y/N?”

Despite your hummed acknowledgment, your eyes were shut, a pleasant grin pulling at your face. Air tickled your cheeks, ruffling your hair, sending you the scent of miles away cherry blossoms.

You could have sat in that tree all night and into the next, but Kuina was tugging on your arm, dragging you out of the moment. You blinked like you were awakening from a deep slumber. “Sorry, what?”

“It’s time to go home,” said Kuina.

“Oh. Right.”

You descended the tree without much thought, finding purchase for your feet and hands to grip as if the tree was reaching out to catch you, whereas Kuina very nearly fell to the ground more than once. Zoro awaited at the bottom of the tree, arms crossed and brows taut.

He watched as you grinned, eyes somewhere else entirely, and trotted back to the village all merry-like. Kuina plopped to the grass beside him, teetering on her feet before he caught her arm.

“Thanks,” she sighed. “I don’t know how she does it so naturally.”

Zoro thought back to what the old tutor once told him. It’s like she’s more at home in the trees. “I dunno. It’s… cool, though.”

You were cool, he meant to say, but wouldn’t ever say it out loud. His little sister, who could catch fish with her bare hands and find four leaf clovers like they were nothing, was very much cool in his eyes.

He thought it again that night, when Kuina joined them for dinner with food her father had prepared, and you lurched forward to tuck a forget-me-not behind Kuina’s ear.

“These don’t grow on the island,” Kuina pointed out. You simply grinned, like you had some secret nobody else could understand.

Kuina became just as important to you as she was to Zoro. Which is why her accident was such a travesty.

Out of the whole entire village, it hit Zoro the hardest. You would know his look of pure, unadulterated shock till the end of your days. Zoro was beside himself, and you were no better. With your only other friend gone, you had no one to lean on.

Zoro only thought of the blade—of his vow to Kuina—leaving you to mourn and dwell and be all alone. You tried to be bitter, you really did, even going to the lengths of hiding all his clean clothes just so he would talk to you, but you were still terrible at being angry with Zoro. (When all Zoro did was exist in his dirtier-by-the-day clothes, you didn’t know whether to be angry or just plain sorry for him. You settled on both).

You tried to confront him, talk to him, anything, but all he’d done was sigh and say, “Just… go read, or something. It’s good for you.”

Like you’d listen to a word he said… but reading was all you could do. It was how you winded up back on your tutor’s door step with a ducked chin and folded arms. She pursed her lips, setting a hand under your chin, cupping your face as she beckoned you inside. Each day you poured over texts and tomes till Shimotsuki Village was completely dry of new literature.

The old woman taught you till she died. Despite how life had fled your eyes, she called you Wild till her last day. “You can’t stay,” she said in her dying breath. “Wild things never last here.”

Like you’d ever think of leaving Zoro.

But soon came the day when Zoro, like you, could learn no more from that village. You assumed the pair of you would set out together now that your paths led you away from home. Zoro had other plans.

Three swords rested at Zoro’s hip, one heartachingly familiar with its white hilt and glimmering blade. He was hunched over a bag, collecting supplies from your little home.

“So that’s it?” you spoke into the tense silence. “You’re leaving?”

“I have to fulfill my promise to…” He didn’t finish, her name hanging in the air. “We always knew I’d leave one day.”

“And what about me?” you demanded, daring him to admit he was abandoning you.

Instead, he closed his satchel and stood, back still facing you. “Sensei promised he’d look after you.”

“Even if I wasn’t already an adult,” you snarled. “I don’t want your sensei. I want my brother.”

Your eyes glistened with tears behind your readers, still sat on the bridge of your nose from where you’d been annotating the last of your tutor’s dusty books. He glanced up, catching your eye, and immediately returned his gaze to the floor.

“I need to become the world’s greatest swordsman,” Zoro said as he walked past you, brushing shoulders with you before he stopped just at the door. “For Kuina. And I need to do it alone.”

Catching your breath, you shook your head at him. “No. All my life I’ve been so patient with you. I’ve forgotten every time you forgot me, everytime you were mean to me—I let it all go! You—You don’t get to let me go. That’s not how this works, Zoro!”

You felt hysterical, tears streaming down your face. And all Zoro could do was stare at the ground.

“You’ll understand someday.”

Hot anger boiled beneath your skin, making you warm all over. Your cheeks burnt and your hands balled into fists. You folded your arms over your chest to keep from lashing out at him with the fury of a sister scorned.

You would never understand.

He breathed shakily. “I… love you, Y/N.”

It was like a bullet to your heart. You peered over your shoulder to find his back just over the threshold of the door, one hand on his three swords and the other rested on the doorframe. You hadn’t stood up to Zoro in many years, mostly because he hadn’t given you reason to. Until now.

“You really are stupid.”

“Y/N—”

“Don’t waste your breath,” you snarled, sweeping over to your desk and grabbing your ready-and-packed satchel. Wiping your nose and eyes on your sleeve, you steeled yourself and swallowed up all your cries. “Where are we headed?”

You turned, adjusting the satchel on your shoulder, and lifted your gaze to your brother, who had turned to stare at you. Faltering, you tried to gauge what Zoro was thinking, what had always been an impossible task. Zoro had never looked at you like this before, his eyes void of any hostility or pity or annoyance. For a moment, he wasn’t an apprentice or a swordsman, nor was he Kuina’s legacy.

He was Zoro, the brother who could have hung the stars with how much you believed in him.

And for a moment, Zoro wasn’t looking at his baby sister, helpless in every sense of the word, desperate to prove herself—Zoro saw what Kuina had, once upon a time; a warrior more mind and spirit than strength, the force of a thousand soldiers behind her puffy red eyes.

It was terrifying, to say the least. You weren’t so little anymore, and he didn’t feel so big anymore.

“First,” he grumbled. “We’re getting you a sword.”

Your eyes shined, not from tears (he was glad you still had your wonder intact). “And second?”

“We’re going after Dracule Mihawk, the greatest swordsman in the world.”

Standing at the docks a while later, preparing to depart, you nudged his shoulder to catch his fleeting attention. The silence had been tense all evening. Your grin was soft and unsure as you mumbled, “I love you too, by the way.” Zoro ruffled, nodding, and you pressed on with a smirk. “You’ve never said that to me before.”

“Sure I have,” he countered, but you shook your head.

“Nope. Never. But that’s okay.” You turned to stare at the ground, the captain of the ship taking you away starting toward the pair of you. “I’ve never said it either.”

And in the underbelly of that big merchant ship, sitting on the small cots allotted to you for the journey, you lifted your gaze to lock him in place. “Let’s make a promise.”

Zoro stilled, setting his swords beside him as he met your gaze. He wasn’t opposing the idea, so you pressed on, presenting your pinky to him. Zoro had the nerve to scoff. “Don’t laugh. This is a sacred ritual.”

Rolling his eyes, Zoro rested his arms on his knees, reaching to interlock his pinky with yours. A smile tugged at your face. “What’s our promise?”

You hummed, not having thought that far ahead, before getting excited again. “I promise to stay by your side. No matter how much of an idiot you are.”

For a while, he said nothing, staring at your hands in the space between you. He started to speak, thought better of it, before pressing on. “That’s a big promise. Sure you won’t change your mind?”

“Maybe,” you shrugged. “If I do, I’ll just break my pinky.”

He blinked, trying hard not to let his smirk through, and he laughed despite himself. “Fine. I promise I won’t abandon you. Ever. No matter how much a menace you are.”

Satisfied, you retracted your pinky, letting your eyes flutter shut. You yawned and laid on the less than comfy cot, and were out like a light in minutes. Zoro stayed awake at your side all night, hyper aware of every motion all around, threatening each thing that creeped in the dark recesses with a single glare.

For you, this was a dream. The world was your playground, an adventure just like the ones you’d read about. On the contrary, Zoro was stressing. You had this penchant for getting into trouble, always finding danger wherever you went.

Tiffs between you and your brother were never far away, but unlike when you were younger, these fights lacked a certain fire, almost as if neither of you cared to pick at the other anymore. That realization was odd, to say the least. It was almost like the pair of you were growing up.

Word quickly spread across the East Blue about the Pirate Hunter Zoro, so deadly they took to calling him a demon… and then there was you. People tended to ignore girls, looking over your head and not caring to lower their voices when you lurked nearby. You were Zoro’s main informant, picking up on locations and secrets before your targets had any clue they were being hunted.

And as weeks flew by, you and Zoro found a new kind of camaraderie; respect. After years, it looked like Zoro was finally respecting you as an equal. As a friend.

You had quite the temper, never backing away from a threat, mostly because you knew your big brother was behind you. You don’t like the price for those apples? The vendor isn’t willing to barter? You're cursing their mother and demanding a fair price, and just as the vendor is reaching for a knife there appears this giant of a man, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. You always get the price you want.

Zoro liked to shine and sharpen and clean his swords himself, but one day he was so tired he fell asleep while doing the first one. He woke up to all three glittering up at him. You said it was no problem, and went out of your way to get to the task before he did each time.

Your habit of climbing trees returned, and with it a newfound love for scaling buildings as well. Zoro’s not sure how he doesn’t have a head full of gray hairs, but he feels for sure it's coming.

Still, despite your insistence on remaining a menace (he’s certain it’s on purpose), Zoro was happy you’re with him. Things nearly reached a new kind of normal; he hunted the pirates, you helped him, you both got paid.

But he saw how restless you became, always itching for the next adrenaline hit. Somewhere inside, Zoro feared the day you’d get so restless you turned back to recklessness. Mostly, he feared he wouldn’t be there to save you in time.

Zoro’s footsteps were ghostly, not a sound coming from him as he slinked up the gangway of the little pirate ship. His bandana was tight around his head, two of his swords brandished and at the ready. On his left, a pirate stood guard and was swiftly knocked out by a blow to his skull.

A routine operation, sure to bring in enough beri to get you and Zoro to the next island over. Maybe you’d even have enough left over for some decent food, he pondered, turning and laying eyes on the door to the lower decks.

It should have been a routine operation, but the moment he stepped into the winding halls of that ship, the pirates were all over him, coming at him left and right. They drove him back up to the main deck, landing blows against his three swords yet never getting through his defenses.

But if he stayed on the defense, he doubted he’d actually find an opening to get the hell outta there. Zoro swiped his swords in an arc to drive the horde of them away just long enough to make a break for the docks, but a gunshot rang true, whizzing past his head before he could take a step.

He whipped around and found the man he’d intended to murder in his sleep, and drag his body back without ever alerting the crew. The captain reloaded his pistol, a maniacal grin splitting his face.

“Roronoa Zoro,” the man drawled, stepping down from the stern of the ship. “Your reputation precedes you.”

He blinked up at him, readjusting his hold on his swords. “Sorry, who the fuck are you?”

The smile dropped instantly. “Only the man who will end your sorry life, pirate hunter.”

Zoro scoffed. “I’d like to see you try.”

He heard it, but it was so soft he tried to convince himself he was delusional; but then it got louder, till he heard the sound of feet bounding up the gangway as his blood ran cold, and there you were, shouting his name, your sword held before you.

“Zoro,” you gasped, ignoring everything else as you gazed upon him with wild eyes. “It’s—It’s a trap.”

The captain’s laugh was like a ringing in his ear. Zoro’s stare was zeroed in on you, begging you to run away, horror flooding his senses. No. No. No.

“A little too late, kid,” the captain bellowed, slinging around his pistol and eyeing you predatorily. “Here to die with the hunter?”

Zoro’s heart dropped when you spat at the ground, shooting the captain a glare. The man growled, nodding at his awaiting crew. “Take care of her. I’ll take Roronoa.”

You had lunged before Zoro could do a thing, clashing your blade against your opponents and dodging each strike with ease. Zoro made to run to you when a sword swiped through the air and caught his arm, forcing him to face the captain of the ship.

A routine. This was meant to be a routine. You were meant to be safe at the little inn, awaiting his return with a gripy comment about having woken you up, despite knowing fully well you’d been up the whole time.

But you were here, fighting for your life against ten or so men twice your size. You could only hold them off for so long. Zoro set his jaw and set his third sword between his teeth, taking on the slimy excuse for a captain.

“Y/N!” He shouted, muffled around the hilt of his blade. “Get out of here!”

“No!” you shouted right before wincing as you took a wrong step and twisted your ankle, attempting to walk it off as you evaded being skewered.

His eyes followed you, spying a pirate jumping down from the stern. Zoro sprinted away from his own fight, vaulting over you and decapitating the pirate, landing on the deck in a roll. You heaved, awestruck, and giggled despite it all.

Zoro stood, eyes dark as a demon’s, and looked right at you. It was as if the sun was held captive in your eyes, even now. A spot of blood seeped into your shirt, and he parried three men’s attacks to reach you. “You’re hurt.”

“I’m fine,” you snapped, your back to Zoro’s as you drove back another blow. “I’m sorry. I should’ve known something was up.”

“Don’t—” he kicked a guy to the side “—Don’t be. Just—”

He whirled on you as you let out a whimper, now clutching your shoulder. In a flash, Zoro severed the arm of the man who’d hurt you, letting you lean against him for a moment. Maybe four men were still standing, yet the captain had gone out of sight. The coward.

His heart raced, the sound of it blaring in his ears and making it hard to gather his wits up off the ground. Zoro could barely breathe, but he managed to berate you still. “Stay down. I’ll handle this.”

You glared up at him, your eyes going wide a moment later. Your hands landed on his shoulders and pushed him down with all your might, and he keeled over, not expecting it. He rolled to the side and stood, taking out another pirate by his leg in the process, and whipped back around to yell at you.

But… something was wrong. You teetered precariously on your feet, and your face was all scrunched up, and why were you clutching your chest like that? Was there that much blood on your shirt before?

Even when he saw the captain standing behind you with a bloodied sword, Zoro couldn’t believe what he was seeing. If anyone had seen what happened next, they would understand precisely why Roronoa Zoro was compared to a demon; the three remaining men and their captain were dead before you ever hit the deck.

Zoro fell to his knees, his swords clattering to the ground as he scooped up your head and held you to him. Your name fell from his trembling lips, his wide eyes pleading with yours to stay open. You were fading before his very eyes, the sun behind them setting fast.

“Hey,” he stammered. “Hey, don’t go—you can’t. Remember? You don’t get to leave. That’s not how this works. That’s what you said.” You smiled up at him, and it all got infinitely worse. “Stop being—stop being stupid. You’re not dying. Get up.”

“It’s okay,” you whispered as black fuzz clouded your vision. “I’m… okay…”

You went limp in his arms. His tears didn’t make a sound, nor did he as he carried your body back to the inn, passing the innkeeper solemnly, and laid you down on the bed. He stood guard at your side till morning, and he went back for the body of the pirate captain, cashed in the bounty, and made preparations to go back home.

Your grave sat beside Kuina’s, on a nice ridge overlooking the village. The sunset in beautiful from up there.

The demon pirate hunter roamed the East Blue without an ounce of mercy, earning himself his title and reputation once and for all. No one ever dared to trap him again, not after they heard what happened to the last guys who tried. The whole crew died in twenty minutes, is what they said.

He barely spoke to anyone besides a bartender, becoming more specter than man. His eyes always had this dark tint to them, a haunting behind them that struck fear into the very soul of anyone who looked into them.

And he liked it that way. He didn’t need anyone getting a closer look at him, not when everyone he ever cares about winds up—gone. He swore he’d never let anyone get close ever again. It was safer that way.

No one touched his swords. No one so much as brushed past them without getting an earful. Only he ever cleaned, shined, or sharpened his blades. He claimed no one ever did it right.

In truth, the demon pirate was getting sloppy, as much as he hated to admit it. He had a mission to complete, yet each day grew more difficult than the last. He took on bounties without much thought, fought anyone who spared him a glance.

Reckless. He’d grown reckless.

It’s what led him to Shell Town. What led him to that restaurant. What led him to defending that little girl and her mother (he sees you in every child with just an ounce of wonder). It’s what brought him here, tied to this post under the blazing sun, starving and thirsty, and he felt deserving of it.

But he couldn’t die here. He’d let one promise be broken. The other would be fulfilled. He just had ten more days left, then he’d be on his way. Surely, Hawkeye Mihawk can’t hide forever. Then, after… he could rest. Only then. Only then.

“They say you’re a bad guy.”

Zoro frowned, lifting his eyes from the dirt, squinting through the blinding sun to make out who stood before him. Their outline came first, a boy, with something on his head. He blinked a few times and took in this kid who dared to step into this yard.

He looked him up and down, took in the straw hat on his head, shielding the kid’s eyes from the sun. Yet, somehow… despite the shade being cast on his face, there was a bright glow in his complexion, but Zoro couldn’t decide where it was coming from (he refused to admit it was coming from his eyes).

This kid had the nerve to smile at Zoro, giving him the sense that maybe they had met before. Why else would that unrestrained, recklessly true smile make Zoro’s heart stop?

(Zoro would only let himself think it some weeks later, when he’d long since accepted the offer of first mate, and long since the Straw Hat pirates found a ship of their own—Luffy reminded him of you, as terrifying as that was).

(Maybe he would let one, or two, or however many people were on that ship get close. Just maybe, it wouldn’t hurt to try).

“Zoro!” Luffy called, racing toward the afterdeck in search of the mossheaded swordsman. He jumped to a stop, finding Zoro sitting under the tangerine trees, slowly peeling one in his hand. “There you are! What’re you doing?”

He barely cast him a glance. “Trying to be alone.”

Luffy laughed at that, plopping himself down next to Zoro. “Me too.” He reached up a rubber hand and swiped a tangerine, only thinking how odd it was a moment later. “Hmm, Nami would normally skin us for eating her fruit.”

Zoro stilled before popping a slice into his mouth. “She said it’s fine. As long as I’m alone.”

The captain tilted his head, skeptical as he slowly chewed a piece of his tangerine. “Why?”

Luffy received no answer, not right away, not until Zoro finished his tangerine and set the peel in front of him to dispose of later. And Luffy waited, shredding his peel into lots of pieces just for the fun of it.

“I had a sister,” Zoro finally confessed, causing Luffy to freeze up. “It’s her birthday.”

So many questions bubbled under the surface. Why hadn't he mentioned her? Why hadn’t Luffy met her? What’s her name? Does she have green hair too? But… Zoro’s solemn expression had Luffy falling silent, watching his face carefully.

No explanation came, but Luffy gathered the gist of it. Whoever this sister was, she wasn’t around anymore. “Do you… still want to be alone?”

Zoro hesitated, hands squeezing his knees tightly, his throat gone dry. “No.”

“Okay,” Luffy smiled softly, plucking his hat from his head and setting it on Zoro’s, slightly missing the mark and pushing it down over his eyes.

The swordsman huffed a laugh, peeking out from under the hat. “What’s that for?”

Luffy shrugged. “Dunno. The hat makes me feel better.”

Zoro shook his head, gazing softly upon his captain before adjusting the straw hat on his head and shifting to stare at the sea. “Thank you, Luffy. For everything.”

“No problem, Zoro. Hey, do you when dinner's ready?"

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @100520s @raspberrymuffings you mentioned big bro zoro A WHILE ago on my sanji's sister fic

#zoro #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #one piece #one piece x reader #x reader #reader insert #female reader #opla!zoro x reader #shimotsuki kuina #kuina x reader #x sister!reader #x sister reader #zoro x sister!reader

242 notes · View notes

hanniejji · 2 years

Text

wild bunny

[ scaramouche x child!reader ]

summary: whenever scaramouche looks at the young child that always stood idly beside him, he is reminded of a certain fledgling that he once lost.

notes: had a sudden burst of writing juice because of the scara cutscene that broke my heart, tis my usual platonic shit agenda lesgo | m.list

words: 972 | warnings: a lil rushed because i typed this while at work LHASHAHAHAHA also mentions of dead pipol lmao

"what the fuck."

scaramouche stares in disbelief, jaw slacked and furrowed eyes pointed at the small cocoon of blanket on the couch in his office. your fluff of hair is disheveled, eyes unusually puffy and teary rather than dull. the small trail of sheen on your cheeks confirms his suspicion.

the unfeeling stray he picked out from the wilderness of inazuma is crying.

he had not seen you express a single emotion other than conflict, anger and bloodlust before, so for you to be crying—alone—it's safe to say that the balladeer is undeniably bamboozled.

"what are you wasting tears for, brat?"

maybe he should have been a little softer when approaching children in their… vulnerable state. but honestly speaking, scaramouche doesn't exactly know if that applies to you. children under the wing of the fatui aren't exactly normal—especially, children who can wipe out a whole team of fatus. nonetheless, you are still a young fledgling, exposed to the truth of this world where the gods are cruel and being weak does not equal to survival.

you remind him so much of kunikuzushi.

he grimace at the reflection, a parallel that coaxed him into taking your battered form under his wing—an unbelievable truth, as much as he denies it.

"i lost the bunny."

"the what?"

he crouches in front of the couch, forearms on his knees with an exasperated look on his face, though his feelings are far from the expression plastered on display. he has an inkling about what's upsetting you, now that he looks over you once more.

you and that thing are practically inseparable.

"i lost the bunny you gave me."

and by bunny, you meant the stuffed bunny he gave you a few months after he plucked you from the wild.

the one scaramouche gave because the first time he saw you was when you were blankly staring at the lifeless bunny on the ground. it died from the aftermath of a wild goose chase. a few weeks before he found you, fatuis and random nobushis would turn up dead in the wilderness of inazuma. it infuriated scaramouche. camps upon camps of fatus would be thrown into disarray and their rations are emptied. when he sent his underlings after the perpetrator, they'd fail to come back with good news. worse, they won't come back at all. he'd come upon them sprawled on the dirty ground somewhere else, dead.

so he went after the menace himself.

that's when he found you in the middle of a fatui camp, his underlings basically useless at this point, slumped on the ground and the poor innocent bunny in front of you. it's later then after he apprehended you that he found out that you were protecting the tiny mammal.

you were just a kid trying to survive in a world filled with monsters, strong enough to protect yourself but helpless and clueless when it comes to the life of others.

when his eye caught sight of a ragged stuffed bunny in an abandoned village, he grabbed it on impulse, faltering only when he was about to hand the now clean stuffed bunny that he stitched up himself. despite being confused as fuck, he casually tossed the thing at you, telling you that it's of no use to him and that you should act like a kid more because your indifference is creeping him out.

he prefers you over any kid by the way. don't tell him i told you.

"i'm sorry," his eye twitched, irritated at how you seemed to be so bothered. it's just a random stuffed bunny, nothing great about it. but he supposes that for someone at your age and comprehension, it must've meant something special for you.

and it does, a lot.

"it's just a toy."

"you gave me that bunny."

he sighed audibly, rolling his eyes before pushing himself to full height, arms crossed.

"it's not the only stuffed bunny in the world, idiot."

"it's the one you gave me. i don't want just any stuffed bunny."

now this, caught him off guard.

you seemed to be genuinely sad about losing the bunny, an expression he only saw on the day you first met. the same look on your face when you failed to protect something you deemed precious. if you're directing such sentimentality towards the stuffed bunny, then you must've really loved it.

more so because it came from him.

scaramouche is brought back to centuries past, an image of a different child flashing before his eyes.

he feels his chest tighten, but he dares not linger at the thought.

"look, you little gremlin," scaramouche grumbled, masking this unfamiliar feeling with exasperation and irritation—he dares not display such thing. "we can just get you a new one and it would still come from me. who the hell do you think provides for you, huh? me, no one else."

he sees your eyes brightened in the slightest, now facing him. he can literally imagine an invisible tail wagging with how you seemed to perked up. another unfamiliar sight, but not unwelcomed. if anything, it's going to be what he thinks of for the next few weeks, unbeknownst to him.

"but how about the one i lost?"

"forget it, it's ragged anyway," he gestures you to follow. "move your little feet, we have places to be and things to do."

the sound of your feet trailing behind him is something he would come to love listening to. that and the slight tug on his sleeves where your little hand naturally clutches around.

a week passes, you found a pristine white bunny in your quarters. it looks different from the one you used to have, but the stitches are familiar and the small electro symbol on its torso is one that you will not mistake for a different person's handiwork.

3K notes · View notes

eveningepiphany · 1 year

Text

masterlist ✭

hello and welcome to my official masterlist! this will be updated regularly with every new work i post. thank you for all your ongoing support, all my love <3

the list is rather short at the moment, however it will continue to grow over time and we’ll definitely get a few series in here!

feel free to send in requests here

[*] indicates smut

—ONESHOTS (2022)

sick

Y/N is looking after harry when he’s got a bad case of the flu, and even though they’re both just friends, it’s clear they see each other as more than that.

and they were roommates*

when harry and Y/N have gone from longtime best friends to roommates, the lines that have been slowly blurring since their teen years are beginning to disappear altogether.

hotel room*

harry & Y/N are friends but it’s a love hate relationship with so much tension you can hardly breathe. this tension isn’t any better when they get stuck in a hotel room together for the night. and it only has one bed.

mistletoe*

[part one] [part two*]

you’re with the band at anne’s house the week of christmas and harry points out you’re both standing under a mistletoe.

—ONESHOTS (2023)

learn to knock*

not knocking on your door has led to harry walking in on you… with your hand between your legs.

lessons*

sitting on harrys couch, he gets it out of you that you have never intimately touched someone else, and he offers straight up for you to learn off him.

far from sober

[part one] [part two]

you’re incredibly drunk, and when you are it comes with you having an obscene lack of a filter. harry being the sweetheart he is, is trying to get you back into your hotel room in one piece. he was not ready for you to be so touchy.

manbun*

harry and you are about to fuck in the back of his car, and you want his hair out for it. little do you know how much he likes a bit of hair pulling.

butterfly*

you’re on a holiday with your family and family friends— including harry— who hasn’t had a shirt on this whole time and things amp up quickly in your hotel room.

reconnect*

lockdown is tough on both you and harry. you miss the feeling of physical touch so much you start chasing to fill that void in one another.

innocent*

while on the couch, harry ends up with innocent y/n on his lap, and she gets unexpectedly very worked up over his thigh being under her, and he does something about it.

tease*

seeing harry tonguing his guitar last night has you finally admitting the state he puts you in. and that’s never good when you’re a tour photographer. especially now you have photographic evidence of the moment.

go with it

your ex boyfriend— someone you never want to talk to again— is searching for you at a party. trying to do anything to deter him or get away, you spot harry, and a plan comes to fruition.

SERIES—

welcome to the final show

you take a beautiful sign to the final show and have the sweetest interaction with harry. then somehow bump into him in italy 2 days later. leading to an exchange of numbers, and a lot of falling in love.

[part one]

[part two]

[part three]

[part four]*

pirates gold

being a royal, you always knew you were meant to keep your wits about you. despite never fitting into your status, a lapse of your judgement leads you to getting taken captive by a group of pirates, and their captain, Harry.

[part one]

Insatiable*

harry is a prince, natalia is a spy for his court. both of them can’t stand one another, but natalia having to take any direct information she learns about the attempt on his life directly to him seems to put the pair in an interesting dynamic.

[part one]

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #fanfiction #masterlist #harry styles fanfiction

2K notes · View notes

builtbybrokenbells · 5 months

Text

CAPITAL VICES | GLUTTONY

Gluttony: excessive and ongoing indulgence

Masterlist

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 12.5k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex (wrap it), sweet sweet morning sex, cockwarming if you squint, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving), dom/sub, bratty sub, begging, praise, overstimulation, sir kink, name calling, very brief mentions of free use kink, degradation, scratching?, lots of banter/flirting, mentions of addiction/substance use, touch of jealousy, mentions of death/dying, mentions of drinking, swearing, embarrassment, some fluff, sorry if i miss any!

hi, i couldn’t help myself 🤭 you guys are so so awesome and i hope you like this as much as the first chapter! as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🫶🏻

The morning came harshly and much too quickly for your liking. The sun rays were demanding your wakefulness as they wrapped around the dark curtains hung over the window. When your eyes cracked open for the first time, you were so comfortable and content that you almost believed you were nestled in your own bed. Then, the first hint of the familiar cologne reached your nose, sending a wave of anxiety through you. Dread settled deep in your stomach, heavy like lead and large enough that it left no room for anything else. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, looking around the unfamiliar room as you recollected the memories from the night before.

In a flash of imminent evocation, you looked down at your legs covered by the blanket, but you were no longer immersed in the comfort of a (seemingly very expensive) mattress. Instead, you were sat atop a foreign countertop with a strangers head between your thighs, feeling the most intense pleasure you had ever experienced. You blinked hard, shaking the thought from your head as you made a quick return to reality. There was no stranger between your legs, but you were cozy underneath said strangers blankets, and your head was laying comfortably in a mountain of his pillows. You shifted, making a move to sit up, but had to stop for a moment to satiate the dull ache in your hips. Another memory of being bent over the kitchen table flashed in your mind, and this one prompted a sudden sensation deep in the pit of your stomach.

You did not wake up feeling ashamed like you predicted you would. Instead, you felt lighter than you did before you met Jake at the bar, more free and with less stress holding you down. You weren’t sure if he solved all of your regular worldly troubles with sex alone, but he definitely made a dent in them. Before your drunken escapades the night prior, sex was a distant memory in your mind. You did not turn to celibacy, nor were you abstaining for the purpose of morality, but rather just because you had no desire or time to chase after a man who was not interested in anything other than pleasing himself. When Jake whispered his sweet words in your ear, laced with the promise of enjoyment and simplicity, you could not turn it down even if you wanted to. You were desperate for a release but did not want any of the complications that came along with it, and right now, the only complication you could see was that you were stranded at his apartment without a car.

Well, that, and the fact you did not know where your new-found friend had disappeared to.

The space in bed beside you was empty, only a slight divot in the mattress and pillows strewn messily near the headboard remained to remind you that someone had indeed slept next to you and it was not just a fallacy of your overactive imagination. You strained to listen, wondering if he was just busying himself in another room until you woke up. After a few moments, you could hear some light rustling coming from the kitchen. You leaned closer to the door, turning your head to try and catch a glimpse of what he was doing. Almost as soon as you did, you heard footsteps nearing the bedroom. You shot back to your original position, hoping that he did not catch sight of you watching him. It seemed like you were in the clear, because once he fully emerged around the corner, his eyes were only focused on two steaming mugs of coffee held tightly in his hand.

“Good morning, sunshine.” He chuckled, setting one down on his nightstand before carefully handing one to you. He was standing shirtless, clad only in a pair of grey sweatpants, and he was just as beautiful as you remembered. If you dared to admit, almost even more so now that you knew him so intimately. You would be lying if you said you were not mesmerized by the sight. Words seemed impossible, and all you could do was stare while your mind caught up with the rest of the world.

“Morning.” You eventually mumbled, peering into the mug. “What’s this?”

“A million dollars.” He rolled his eyes. “What do you think it is?”

“I know what it is Jake,” you argued back, surprised at how quickly he was able to pinch the wrong nerve. “You know what I mean.”

“It’s coffee, because it’s ten in the morning and I thought I’d do something nice for you.” He said, sliding into bed next to you. “Besides, figured you might have a headache, and I thought it might help. I didn’t realize it would be such a big deal.”

“This isn’t very no strings attached,” you warned, but took a sip of the coffee anyway. “I said no breakfast or anything like it.”

“Good thing it’s not breakfast, then.” He fought back another eye roll, finding your concern very misplaced. “Friends can make each other coffee too, you know.” He paused, looking over at you with curiosity. “Do you even know how to have friends? Because I’m beginning to think you don’t.” He raised an eyebrow, his jab playful but it still stung.

“Remember when I said I wasn’t sure I wanted to be your friend?” You reminded, sitting the mug on the table on your side of the bed. “Still trying to figure that one out.”

“So cruel angel, and for what?” There was a smile on his lips, knowing that your banter was not because of his character, but rather because of your unwillingness to show a shred of weakness. You were a strong personality, and you hated the fact that he wanted to know you. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out, and it did not bother him at all, mostly because he knew how to work around it. He’d done it once, and he was certain he could do it again.

“Hardly think I’m being cruel, Jacob.” You leaned back, resting against the headboard. “Just being honest.”

“Your honesty is cruelty.” He laughed, recalling your blunt insults that had been piling up since the night before. “Can’t even pretend to like me for the sake of my feelings?”

“I must like you a little bit, because I’m still here. I could have ran away in the middle of the night, but I toughed it out. That has to count for something.”

“I think you like me more than just a little bit.” He theorized, his eyes studying your expression as he spoke. “You were quite a fan last night.” Your cheeks dusted red at his words, realizing that he had been thinking of the sinful experience just as much as you were. Then again, it was groundbreaking sex, and it was impossible not to think about it. “You want to go home?” He asked, breaking you from the thought.

“I thought that was the deal? You take me home in the morning, we promise to keep in touch, then we forget about it before we go to bed tonight… the whole thing is pretty cookie cutter. I don’t want to make myself feel special.” You explained, cocking your head to the side in curiosity as you noticed a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. He didn’t say it, but he did think you were special. In fear of scaring you away, he opted to keep that to himself.

“I did say I would take you home today, but I never said when.” He corrected, a smirk pulling at his lips. “And don’t think I’m in any hurry to forget about you, sweetheart.” Under the blanket, his cool hand landed on your thigh, the touch gentle but impactful. It stole the air from your lungs, and the desire in his features went in for the kill. He barely touched you, and in truth, barely said anything worthwhile, but the familiar ache between your legs had already started to make a return. He was committed to breaking your psyche, and he was doing the job well. It was impossible not to melt under his touch, and resisting him was not an option. He was charming, handsome and confident. He could convince you to fall to his feet without even opening his mouth.

“Sneaky.” You breathed, trying to focus on anything other than his fingers dancing dangerously close to his favourite part of you. “What if I say no? Maybe I want to go home now.”

“Are you really going to say no, or are you just trying to piss me off?” He questioned, inching closer to you.

“I’d never do anything like that.” You lied, a smile forming on your lips and immediately selling you out.

“No, never.” He played into you, the same smile growing on his lips. In one swift motion, he pulled the blanket away from your legs. The cool air took you by surprise, sending a shiver down your spine. Your first instinct was to grab the blankets and pull them back over the exposed skin, but you knew better. Whatever he was intending to do would be much more enjoyable than the simple comfort of warmth. “Cold?” He crooned, faking his concern only partially.

“Mhm.” You nodded, looking over his face. You were in awe of his beauty, unbelieving that someone could be so perfect. Even if a relationship was out of the question, you could not deny his physical advantage over any other boy you had ever met. However, he did seem to push all of the wrong buttons and his personality irked you more every time he spoke, but for some strange reason, it was unbelievably compelling, too. Perhaps the buttons he liked to press were exactly right, and you just did not want to give him the satisfaction of admitting it. Deep down, even if you found him annoying, you felt you were lucky to be annoyed by him at all. Jake seemed like the type of person everyone wanted in their life, even if you hated him by times.

Hate is a strong word, and it was far from the correct description of how you felt about him; he only bothered you so much because you wanted him around, and you had never felt that way about anyone until he walked into your life. You liked him, but you hated the fact that you did. Instead of submitting to the feeling, you covered it up with a cold exterior in hopes it would scare him away.

Once again, the battle between your unwillingness to give in and his unwillingness to give up seemed to take precedence over anything else.

“Poor baby.” He sympathized, moving towards you and settling between your legs. “I think I know how to warm you up.”

“Yeah?” You asked, completely distracted from your earlier argument. No matter how much you wanted to resist, you couldn’t seem to find the strength to do so. You reached down, cupping his cheek in your palm as you dusted your thumb over the soft skin. His eyes fluttered closed at the feeling, happy that you seemed much more receptive of his advances. He was fearful that if anything, you would be the one to wake up and regret your decisions. Even sober, he still found you as enchanting as he did when he first laid eyes on you, and he knew that from the minute he brought you into his life, him feeling any type of regret would be completely implausible. “What’s that?”

“Thought you said you wanted to go home?” He raised an eyebrow, letting his fingers trail up your thigh. The light tickle was barely noticeable, but it was still enough to drive you to insanity. Everything he did was all the same, whether the touch was minimal or incredibly apparent, no matter if it was something sweet or dirty coming from his lips, or even if he was staring or just sneaking glances. No matter what Jake was doing, it was hard to ignore, and it was the only thing you wanted to pay attention to.

“I might have been lying.” You shrugged, enthralled in the playful expression on his face.

“Did nobody ever teach you that lying is bad, sweetheart?” He said, his fingers finally anchoring on your hips, right under the hem of his t-shirt that was just a little too big for you.

“Did you ever think that maybe I just don’t care?” You offered, posing the idea as if it were blasphemous.

“Such a bad girl.” He let out a disapproving tsk, shaking his head at you. “You don’t want to go home, do you angel?” You could not find it within you to lie to him, and if you did, he would see straight through you anyway. Besides, even if you did want to go home when you woke, there was no way you could leave him now. Whatever he had done to you the night before, you weren’t sure. What you did know was that the wicked spells he had cast and the sinful curse of his companionship was tying you down right to his bed, the chains not even loose enough give a vague impression of freedom.

You were no longer a girl he had met at the bar, wooed by his pretty smile and captivating eyes. You weren’t just a subject that fell victim to his sweet words, nor the euphoric nature of his touch. You were a woman who was in desperate search of salvation, yet unsure if you would ever find it. You were praying to be released, but he was the altar in which you prayed to. There was no escape, no surrender nor even certain death could save you from his hands. It would be a pleasant death, one that cushioned you as you descended, but you would be subservient to him until the bitter end. He held the power, and you were subordinate to him. You knew that even long after you left the realm of mortality, you would still search for him in the darkness, and well into the next life.

After all, the devil knows no mercy, and you had invited him in and welcomed him with open arms. You sealed your fate the first time you allowed his lips to touch yours, your soul fleeing you and becoming his for the taking. You could continue in hopes of salvation, but you knew that nothing could save you from the damage that was already done. It was only the first day of your lifelong sentence, and part of you had already come to terms with the inevitable; there was nobody in the entire would that could ever compare to Jake.

“No, sir.” You shook your head, giving him a long look with innocent eyes. The sight seemed to drive him crazy, thrilled that you had remembered the rules so well.

“That’s what I thought,” he smiled, using his hand on your hip to pull you down towards him. Your head landed gently on the pillows and your stomach twisted with anticipation. He instantly picked up on your shallow breathing, knowing that you were all but vibrating with excitement. “What’s wrong?” He hummed as his fingers pushed the t-shirt to your stomach, revealing the lack of clothing on your lower half.

“Nothing.” You promised, and it was the truth. There was nothing bothering you except for his slow pace. Even then, you knew with how generous he was the night before, he had to make you suffer at least a little bit. The evil that lived within him thrived off your impatience, and it only made him draw out his teasing even more.

“Right,” he spoke softly as his eyes settled on your stomach. “You’d let me do anything I wanted to you and you wouldn’t say a word.” He speculated, lowering his lips to your stomach, dusting a kiss over your navel. “I bet you’d like it, too.” He let his lips drift downward ever so slightly, making your breath hitch in your throat. You watched him in awe, completely enchanted by his ego that was taking up so much space in the room. Even if you thought it was self-centred for him to say such a thing, he was correct, and it was hot. “Wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, your skin crawling with excitement.

“Maybe that should be our deal, then.” He said, eyes flickering down to your cunt, barely able to contain his own eagerness. “I get to use you for whatever I want, whenever I want, and you get to be happy with what you get.” Even if the idea of being completely at his disposal was incredibly enticing, you could help but feel a sinking feeling in your stomach when you thought of not having any control. You could commit to giving him most of the power, but you couldn’t give it all to him. If you did that, you would be going against every single one of your morals, and you’d already given up enough on his behalf.

“That doesn’t sound very fun.” You protested.

“I think it would be plenty of fun.” He argued, his mouth now dangerously close to your heat. “Maybe I can change your mind about it later.” He smiled, flickering his eyes up towards your face. He noticed the look of doubt in your eyes, but it did not seem to deter him. “What? A man can dream, can he not?”

“Mhm, keep dreaming all you want, Jacob.” You smiled, reaching down to brush the hair from his eyes.

“Oh, I will.” He promised. There was no doubt that sex with you would infiltrate every single thought that crossed his mind. You took post in every one of his dreams the night prior, and would for every one to come next. You had him wrapped around your finger, even if he would never admit it, and he had you hooked on him just the same. “You can’t tell me that you wouldn’t like it,” he muttered, moving further down and pressing a few light kisses to the inside of your thigh. “You know I’d always be good to you. I told you I’d take care of her, didn’t I?”

“You did.” You nodded, unable to argue his words. He had proven beyond your expectations that he was indeed in the game to please you, and you had no fear he would do his duty flawlessly. With a small smile on his lips, he felt as though he was finished with taunting and he finally lowered his mouth to your cunt. A gasp fell from your lips as his tongue ran through you, slow but still fantastic. You could tell that despite his love for teasing, he had been waiting for this since long before you woke up. “Oh, god.” You groaned, feeling his tongue circle your clit.

You were sore, still sensitive from the night before, but you were so addicted to his touch that it did not matter. You knew that even if his intent was to inflict pain, you would still find yourself crawling back to him just to feel his hands on you. Violence appeared ethereal as long as it was him who caused it, and to know violence at his hands was more tempting than pleasure from another.

He was living in the sound of your shallow breaths and thriving off the noises that slipped from your mouth. He was enamoured with the way your hand went in search of the hair on his head, and how your fingers twisted the strands tightly around themselves. Every now and then, your thighs would squeeze against his skull, drawing him in and locking him there for the rest of time. If he could, he would live with his head between your legs for the rest of his life, fed from the sweet sounds you made and comforted by the warmth of your touch. He had only known such pleasure for a short time, but he was certain that nothing else in his lifetime would ever equate.

He savoured the sweetness of your arousal, knowing that it was only so intoxicating because he was the cause of it. Knowing that he could drive such a beautiful woman to such weakness made him weak. He liked to believe that he was just as cold hearted and stony as you were. Love was never something that touched him, nor anything he’d ever craved. Company was low on his list of priorities, much like your own, especially when it was in regards to romance. To him, sex was enjoyable, but connection was not. What he could not deny was the pull he felt when you were around, the force stronger than the gravity holding him to earth.

Intrigue and fascination could not even begin to describe the way he felt about you, and he was in awe of the strength in which he was attracted to you. Your witty comebacks and sharp tongue would make a lesser man cower, but it only seemed to draw him in further. Normally, when he brought girls back to his apartment, he struggled with the never ending mediocrity. It all seemed the same to him, and in the morning, he could not get them home fast enough. When he woke to you next to him in bed, he dreaded the thought of you walking away, partially because he feared you would never return.

For a man desperate to avoid attachment, he was aching at the idea of you showing him disinterest. Your refusal to acknowledge his attempts to know you only seemed to fuel him further. The usual game of cat and mouse he played was too easy, and much too predictable. The challenge you were giving him was so much different than what he was used to that he could not seem to turn it down. He was determined to make you fall for his charm, and in turn, he was making himself fall for you. Neither of you wanted a relationship, but after only a single night, you could not possibly comprehend being without each other.

He removed his tongue from you, unable to resist the urge to watch your face contort into an expression of pleasure. He brought his hand to you instead, placing his thumb on your clit in replace of his mouth and adding his fingers to you. In the darkness of his kitchen when he last had the opportunity to serve you, he did not get the chance to admire you in the way he hoped. He made sure to closely study the way your eyebrows knitted together when his thumb applied pressure, and especially the way your lips parted when his fingers curled inside of you. The way your hair framed your rosy cheeks was irresistible, and his name imbedded on your tongue was the most heavenly sound he ever had the honour of hearing.

“Cum for me, angel?” He whispered, his tone gravelly and laced with desire. His eyes flickered to your free hand, clasping the sheet in a firm embrace. Then, his gaze moved to your chest that was rising and falling with your laboured breathing, his shirt splayed across your skin perfecting the sight before him. “Come on, baby.” He encouraged, a glimmer of hope twinkling in his eye.

“Fuck, Jake.” You whimpered, eyes squeezed shut in anticipation of the intense storm that was coming. The muscles in your abdomen were rigid, bracing your body with support as the pressure steadily increased in the pit of your stomach. “God, please don’t stop.” You pleaded.

“Never,” it was more than a promise; it was a law that he would forever abide by. He wished to please you until he breathed his very last breath, and in death, he hoped he could continue doing it even then. Your legs began to tremble, no nerve ending spared from the pleasure he was granting you. A thin layer of sweat formed over your forehead as your heart thudded against your rib cage. When you descended into the orgasm, you faced the harrowing realization that a sober orgasm from Jake was worlds apart from a drunken one. In a sick twist of fate, it was even more earth shattering than any of the ones given to you the night prior.

As you came down from the high, nearly delirious from his hand still gently working at you, he watched you intently. He wondered if he could stay in the moment long enough to sear the memory into the forefront of his mind for the rest of eternity. When your eyes fluttered open to meet his, he wondered if you felt the same way about him. After a moment of silent conversation, he knew you did.

“That’s my girl.” He fawned over your exquisite performance, completely immersed in every small detail you had to offer. A rush of heat flooded your face, his words taking you by surprise. The possessive claim would have been unwanted from anyone else, but somehow it was all you wanted to hear from him. “I could do this all day if you’d let me.” He admitted, already desperate to start again.

“I think that would be okay.” You admitted, still flustered from the moment. You felt incredibly exposed in the daylight, unable to hide any part of yourself from him. Even if your anxiety was eating away at you, fearful he might not find you as attractive without alcohol and dimly lit rooms, he still seemed to look at you like you were the prettiest thing to walk the earth. You still did not want to allow yourself to feel special, because you knew that it was part of his motive to convince you of such, but it was becoming more difficult as time went on. If he acted this way with every girl he brought home, he would not have the time or energy to be so immersed in you. If he did, there would be hundreds of women knocking down his door to see him again, and unfortunately, you knew that now, you would be one of them.

“Yeah?” He smirked, shocked that you admitted to your own enjoyment. “Sure you don’t want to go home?” You rolled your eyes at him, knowing that he was only trying to get under your skin.

“I’m in no hurry.” You promised, finally feeling your skin calm from the tingling of your last orgasm.

“That’s good, because I wasn’t really planning on letting you leave.” He admitted. “Makes my job easier.”

“So you just thought you could keep me here forever?” You teased, a smile tugging at your lips.

“I would if I could.” There was no hint of a joke in his tone. “We’d have so much fun together, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know if I could handle it. You get on my nerves a little too much. I might go insane, and I don’t think that would be very much fun.” You joked, relaxing back into the mattress.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He chuckled. “Scared to admit you really do like me, angel?”

“Can’t be scared of something that’s not true, can I?” You sighed, knowing that he was fighting a losing battle. No matter if you thought he was the best thing to ever grace the earth, you wouldn’t be caught dead by saying it aloud.

“I’ll get you to say it eventually, sweetheart.” His rebuttal was effortless, and your rejection did not phase him.

“Whatever you say-“ you were cut off, completely distracted from your comment by his mouth connecting with your cunt once again. “Fuck,” you hissed, immediately thrown back into pleasure. He hummed against you, a final taunt before he continued with his tirade. He knew you liked him, and he knew he made you feel good. Although it was nice to hear the words, he did not need you to say them to know his effect on you.

He was working at you with intent, but you were not sure exactly what it was. You wondered if his goal was to get you to admit that you liked him, or to prove himself to you in hopes you would think he was worthy of being liked. He did not want you to feel like your entanglement was a waste of your time, and he wanted you to come back. You knew that much for certain, yet somewhere within his desperation, you sensed that he needed to prove to himself all of the same things.

There was no doubt that he was self-assured, but something about your careless attitude seemed to make him second guess it. He knew he could make you feel good, but it puzzled him to see your hesitation in admitting it. He knew you liked the sex, but perhaps he was more concerned with you liking his character. For the first time in his life, he felt the need to impress you in a further context rather than just sexually. He wanted you to like him so much that you could not even imagine what life was like before him.

The game was dangerous, but the reward was far beyond anything he could ever imagine.

He continued pumping his fingers into you, curling them slightly to hit the sensitive spot he’d grown so familiar with. His mouth was focused on your clit, his lips suctioned around it as he tried to coax another orgasm from you. “God, that feels so good, baby.” You moaned, your head filled with nothing but filthy, frivolous thoughts about him. The pet name was music to his ears, but it left him wondering if the only time you were willing to be nice was while he was having sex with you. Either way, it did not bother him, for he also felt that violence at your hands would be the most pleasant experience he’d ever had.

Your insults sounded more like compliments than any sweet words from another. He was addicted to your hostility in the same way that you depend on a substance; he knew it was unhealthy, but it felt too good to give it up. He feared that a day without it would be worse than death itself. You were both reliant on each other in a way that was more intense than you could comprehend. The relationship was driven by lust and had no promise of anything more, but it was enough. The desire shared between the two of you was stronger than what appeared in most marriages, and it seemed like it was permanent. It was so strong that you had unintentionally engaged in your second deadly sin just hours after the first.

Gluttony had become you both; the lust had pushed you so close to insanity that you couldn’t help but indulge in the sinful desires. You could not repent from what you had done, and salvation was no longer a possibility. If not for the need of food and water, you could have stayed wrapped up in each other until your very last breath had passed you by. The thought of turning to dust while still remaining in the intimate display was comforting, and you knew that a happier death was not plausible. Living out the rest of your life engaged in any type of sexual pleasure with Jake was enticing, and your only complaint would be that it would never be enough.

Your hands gripped at the sheets, holding yourself to the bed in fear that the pleasure would become so intense that you would float away in a cloud of euphoria. The noises coming from your mouth were pornographic, settling deep in the foundation of the walls and claiming yet another room in his home with vulgar memories. He would never be able to rid you from the place, even if he dedicated the rest of his life to forgetting. Your stomach was burning with an insatiable fire, and as he continued, he did nothing but encourage it with gasoline.

With one last stutter of his name, pleasure washed over you like never before. Stars danced in your eyes as your hand reached out for him, tangling in his hair. He held you to him, soothing the incessant shaking of your legs as he helped you through the climax. When you started to come down, he did not slow his movements. The warmth and persistent pace of his tongue was normally heavenly, yet the longer he continued, the more irritating it became. You did not have time to recover from the pleasure, and you made your first attempt at shying away from his touch.

His hands locked on your hips ensured you could not get away, but you were putting up a pathetic fight. Even the overstimulating feeling could not bother you enough to want to leave his grip. “Jake, please slow down.” You gasped, squeezing your eyes shut in response to the irritating sting. But, even your protest was weak, and you weren’t even sure if you wanted him to stop. He moved his head back, slipping his thumb in place to keep up the momentum, but it was enough to give you a break so you could gather your thoughts.

“Colour?” He asked, his eyes locked in on your face. Your entire body was ablaze with an unfamiliar feeling, but you could not seem to will yourself to tell him to stop. Instead, a choked moan sounded in response to his question. “Colour, angel.” He demanded, needed verbal clarification before pushing you any further.

“Green.” You confirmed, the word rushing out in a harsh tone.

“Stubborn little thing.” He couldn’t help but smirk at your unwillingness to give up. He liked it more than he cared to admit. Without any further conversation, he returned his tongue to you and continued his earlier pace.

“Fuck,” you groaned, finally feeling the pressure start to rise again. You were far beyond reality, now living in a dreamlike state that consisted of only Jake. He was everywhere, everything and all that mattered. Your hips bucked forward against his tongue, the movement unintentional yet unavoidable. Your body was following his command, and you had little say in what it chose to do. He let out a hum of pleasure at the thought of you coming undone again, knowing that he would never be able to chase a high similar to the one he got from pleasing you.

With one last lingering thought of the boy with his head nestled between your thighs, your entire body tensed in response to the euphoric state you descended into. In a mess of moans and curses, his name lingered in the air; you had sung it like a hymn to the world, and you were certain that if his neighbours cared to listen, they would only be jealous that they could not experience whatever you were feeling. He withdrew from you a bit prematurely, so amazed by your beautiful noises that he could not stop himself from admiring you once again. In a split second of fear, he thought he might come undone from the sight alone.

When you came down, you were exhausted from the energy you had exerted during your performance. You caught his gaze, feeling your stomach twist with pleasure at the sight of his lust-blown pupils. “You taste so fucking good, angel.” He rasped, still trying to catch his own breath. Another flood of arousal rushed straight to your core, and you began to realize that you would never be able to satisfy the craving for him. You reached out to him, settling your hand on the back of his neck. In one swift movement, you sat up at the same time as you pulled him towards you, capturing him in a heated kiss. The sex was phenomenal, yet you couldn’t help but feel that something was missing.

When he pulled your bottom lip between his teeth, you knew that you had found exactly what you were looking for. Everything about him was irresistible, yet somehow, his kiss seemed the most deadly of all. It was so simple, a pleasure you could indulge in without the weight of any shame or emotion. “Fuck me, please.” You mumbled against his lips, your hands roaming every available inch of him.

“How could I say no to you?” He asked, parting from you to look over your face. You gave him a small smile, your cheeks tinged red from the excitement and the sweet tone of his voice. With little struggle, he slipped his sweatpants off and discarded them on the floor. You settled back into your earlier position, ecstatic about what was to come next. He took post between your legs again, but did not rush himself. He let his hands drift over your hips, slowly bringing them up your sides as he slipped them underneath the fabric of the shirt still resting on you.

You lifted your arms, allowing him to pull it over your head. With a lazy smile, he threw it over his shoulder, pleased to have access to the rest of you. “Gorgeous little thing, too.” He said, adding on to his earlier comment. You hated that his words had such a profound effect on you. Comments on your appearance always held little value to you, but when they were coming from his mouth, it was completely intoxicating. “You want me to fuck you, angel?”

“Yes, please.” You nodded, watching his eyes drift over your now exposed chest. He was looking at you similarly to how a predator would watch its prey, his expression nearly feral at the thought of what was in front of him.

“How bad?” He asked, dusting his fingers over your thigh. You debated whether to answer, knowing that it was the most effective way to get what you wanted, yet feeling like begging was just a little too far. As he waited for a response, he guided your leg around his waist, keeping a light hold on it for some extra support. “How bad do you want it, sweetheart?” He asked again, his tone more pressing. You held his gaze, not arguing with him, yet showing clear disobedience to his words. “Don’t be like that, baby.” He warned.

“What if I don’t want to beg?” You raised an eyebrow, challenging him only slightly.

“You’re going to be a brat, now? After I was so good to you?” There was a small smile on his lips; you hadn’t truly bothered him, but the playful banter had thrown him off.

“Just asking.” You shrugged, but you couldn’t deny the throbbing between your legs. You would beg for him until your lungs collapsed, because you knew he was the only one who could do the job right.

“I bet that you wouldn’t want to find out.” He promised, his fingers tightening on you ever so slightly. He leaned down, taking his free arm and hooking underneath your other leg. In one swift motion, he pulled it up to your chest as he leaned down. His lips were hovering over your own as he waited for your rebuttal. The position had changed your mind, and with him so close to giving you what you needed, you could not seem to resist it. “Now, asked you a question. I want to hear you fucking beg for it, angel.” You shuddered at the strength of his tone, his words having more of an impact than any ones that came before. “How bad do you want me?” He asked again, his tone of voice lethal and clearly telling you that it was not up for discussion.

“So bad,” you squeaked, enthralled in the firm grip he had on you. It was making it hard to think about anything else. “Please, Jake. I need you to fuck me.”

“That’s better.” He hummed, thrilled about your cooperation. You could feel him resting against your entrance, driving you insane the longer he waited.

“Please, baby, I’ll be so good for you. I promise.” You upped your game, realizing that your argument had only made him less willing to give you any satisfaction. Even if he wanted you, he found more enjoyment in watching your desperation.

“Yeah? You want to be a good little whore for me?” He asked, moving his hips forward only slightly, just to give you taste of what you could have if you continued doing as you were told. You nodded, giving a hum of agreement to his statement. “You better mean it, angel. I don’t like being lied to.”

“I mean it.” You promised, eyes already rolling back in your head at the thought of him fucking you. It was such a powerful idea that it made your brain short-circuit if you thought about it for too long. Without any further hesitation, he pushed himself inside of you. He adjusted his grip on your leg, making sure it was secure before he started to rock his hips. You locked your other leg around him, hoping that if you mustered enough strength, it would keep him there forever.

You were already teetering on the edge, your body exhausted from the earlier rounds of pleasure. His hips were slow, but moving at a force that made your head spin and your stomach tie itself in knots. He was worked up, too, the drawn out teasing taking a toll on him just as much as it had on you. “Does that feel good, baby?” He said, eyes burning with desire. His stare was locked on your face, unwilling to miss a single second of your pleasure-ridden expression.

“You feel so good, sir.” You muttered, feeling a jolt of electricity every time the tip of his cock brushed against your cervix. It was addicting, intoxicating, and it was completely unfair that he could make you feel so fantastic. When you looked up at him, you had to blink twice to be sure that the devil horns were just a figment of your imagination. Once again, the shadows remained on the wall as a gruesome deception, leading you to believe you had made a mistake that would haunt you for the rest of time.

“You take it so good,” he said, yet his words filled the air with more resemblance to a growl. “Being such a good girl for me.” The praise settled in your chest like lead, weighing you down and forging a tie between yourself and his bed. You could not escape, but you did not care; it was so fantastic that you never wanted to leave, anyway. The usually empty spot on his mattress now belonged to you, and no other could ever replace you. The filthy acts you willingly took part in ensured that the curse of your relationship was infinite. No matter if he burned the mess of fabric and springs in hopes of purging you from his life, the next one he placed in the same spot would still have your name meticulously sewn into the seams.

He leaned down, capturing you in a kiss as his hips continued with their relentless motion. Your hands reached for his neck, holding him to you as his skin burned into your own. The two of you had become one being; two separate entities that shared a single heartbeat and survived off the same breath. Two souls that had been lost for so long finally meeting in a glorious reunion, finding home within the similar resonance and shared heartache. You were two completely different people, yet found comfort in the striking similarities of your closed off hearts, speaking clearly to each other in the only way in which you knew how to communicate.

You were not in love with each other, and it was unlikely that you ever would be, yet the relationship between you was stronger than anything love could produce; it was a profound understanding of the very things that had always been so misunderstood by others. It was a mutual agreement that love and dating was overrated, and you could find more enjoyment in friendship with the benefits of sexual intimacy. Neither of you cared to fall in love, and it was the very thing that drove you to each other. The sinful indulgence of your current situation was not voluntary, but rather a necessity after searching so long for something you thought you might never find.

“Can you cum for me, angel?” He asked, his lips barely parted from your own. You caught his eye, the crazed nature so powerful that it was nearly off putting. He needed you to orgasm in the same way he needed food or water; it was a requirement of survival, and he feared that if he went any longer without it, he may never recover. And so the term of endearment sounded again, just like the hundred other times he let it slip since he first laid eyes on you. He thought you were too ethereal to be human, but only in an essence of holiness. You thought he was too enchanting to be of the mortal realm, yet it was painfully apparent that it was in every way other than godly. His power was wicked, and the strength was only gifted to him for the intent of evil.

“God, yes.” You groaned, tangling your fingers in his hair once again. You were holding him as if you were afraid he would get away. The desperation was something new, and in his opinion, it looked incredibly good on you.

“Cum on my cock, baby.” He encouraged, trying his best to keep his movements steady. He was barely able to hold himself back, but he was determined to get you there, first. The sound of his words sent a shiver down your spine, and the pressure in your stomach reached a peak. You let out a gasp, your hands falling to rest on his back as your entire body descended into euphoria. Your nailed scratched at his skin, but you mind was not able to comprehend the potential injury you could have caused him. Instead, it was flooded with vile thoughts about all you were willing to do for Jake just to ensure he would keep making you feel good.

The state you were in was too much for him to handle, and his own orgasm came as you began to come down from the high. He had only enough strength to mutter your name before his thoughts trailed off into a slur of curses. After a few seconds, he slowed his hips to a stop. He loosened his grip on your leg and gently let it fall back to the mattress. He heaved a long sigh, his body still trembling from the intensity of the climax as he pulled you in to another kiss. When he parted, he rested his head on your chest but made no attempt to leave.

You melted into the touch, savouring the small moment of innocent intimacy. You let your fingers trace over the skin in which your nails has irritated, hoping that it hadn’t caused him any discomfort. You cared little for the formalities that normally came after such phenomenal sex, yet the moment you were sharing with him was deeply profound and so sweet that you could not deny your enjoyment. “I didn’t know sex could be so good.” You sighed, closing your eyes as you ran your fingers through the knotted strands of his hair. You could feel a smile growing on his face, not needing to see him to know how smug he looked at your confession.

“Seems like you’ve been wasting your time on the wrong guys.” He said, his fingers lightly tickling the soft skin on your thigh.

“Insinuating I’m wasting my time with you, too?” You joked, using your free hand to trace lazy shapes into his bicep.

“Do you think I’m a waste of your time?” He asked, unfazed by your response. You thought about it for a moment before giving him an answer.

“No,” honesty was heavy in the air “I don’t think you’re a waste of my time at all.”

“That’s good.” He said, placing a small kiss to your chest, happy to hear that you were happy.

“I think your coffee’s cold, now.” You giggled, casting a sideways glance to the mug sitting on his nightstand.

“Fuck the coffee.” He muttered. “That was well worth the waste of five bucks.” You laughed at his words, finding his charm so devastatingly beautiful. You hated that you liked him, and you hated that you couldn’t seem to convince yourself to dislike him.

“Five dollars for a single cup? Didn’t realize you had such expensive taste.” You said, feeling the warmth of his body nearly lulling you back to sleep.

“I have you in my bed, don’t I?” He replied without missing a beat. Your cheeks heated with a blush, which you had found you were doing an embarrassingly amount of since being in his company. “You want to go get cleaned up?” He asked, finally raising his head from the comfortable position he’d found himself in. You gave a nod, both of you knowing that a mess would be had if you waited any longer. Reluctantly, he withdrew from you, helping you from the bed and to the bathroom. You both cleaned up in silence, neither of you feeling the need to continue a conversation. When you finally had a moment to look at yourself in the mirror, you were shocked at the sight.

Your hair was wild, and old makeup still lingered under your eyes. Hickeys littered your flushed skin and finger shaped bruises decorated your hips. There was no doubt that your weekend full of excitement was written all over you, and in some strange way, you were happy to have the reminder. You knew when you inevitably laid down to sleep in your own bed later that night, you would miss the feeling of his hands on you. “You can take a shower, if you want.” He said, noticing your lingering gaze on the mirror. “I don’t mind.” He promised, brushing the stray hairs from your face and tucking them behind your ear.

“Yeah, only if you don’t mind.” You nodded, the idea more tempting than anything you’d ever heard.

“Of course.” He said, stepping towards the shower and flicking on the faucet. “Take your time.” He dusted his hand over your lower back as a way to reassure you he was being truthful. He didn’t mind your company in the slightest, and delaying your return home had been his intent all morning.

“Thank you.” You sighed, already drawn in by the steam billowing over the shower curtain. He gave a nod, leaving you to do what you pleased.

You stepped in the shower, feeling the warm water wash away the ache in your muscles, although it could not come close to cleansing you from the godless activities you had so willingly done. After a few moments of enjoyment, you searched around the bottles of shampoo and soaps. You weren’t sure how you felt about going home smelling just like your mindless hookup from the bar, but once you opened the bottle and the familiar scent hit your nose, the idea seemed enticing. You washed your hair and your body, taking your time with it before rinsing yourself clean. When you stepped out, you felt like an entirely new woman.

On the counter sat a neatly folded stack of clothes topped with a towel. A flutter of unfamiliar feelings rose in your stomach, catching you off guard and making you turn your nose up at your own emotions. You shook off the moment of uncertainty, reaching out to grab the towel and then you wrapped it around yourself. You dried off before taking to the clothes he had left for you and dressing yourself. When you broke into the kitchen, you heard the soft hum of music and the clatter of dishes. Your eyes landed on Jake, shirtless and in sweatpants once again, immersed in the song playing over his record player as he was turned to face the stove.

“That better not be breakfast.” You warned.

“Would you give it up about the fucking breakfast thing?” He laughed, looking back over his shoulder at you. The playful expression broke you from your fear momentarily. “It wouldn’t be breakfast now, sweetheart. It’s lunch, and you never gave me any rules about lunch.”

“Seems like you’re doing whatever you can to bend the rules.” You raised an eyebrow, walking to the counter and hoisting yourself up on the countertop. He took a few steps towards you, temporarily ignoring the food cooking on the stove. He settled between your legs, his hands finding your hips with little hesitation.

“I wouldn’t be a very good host if I wasn’t concerned with your comfort.” He said, his face leaning dangerously close to your own. “And if I remember correctly, we didn’t lay down any particular rules.”

“I’ll let it slide, but don’t make it a habit.” You warned, a smile tugging at your lips. Even when he was doing something that irked you, you felt compelled to enjoy it.

“Can’t you just appreciate someone being nice to you?” He asked, raising a hand to your cheek and gently cupping it in his palm.

“Just don’t want you getting the wrong idea.” You explained, pulling him in a little further.

“No need to doubt me, angel.” He said, his nose brushing over your own. “Love’s got nothing to do with it.”

“Right,” you agreed, giving a slight nod of your head. “Absolutely nothing to do with it.” You felt the need to cement the notion even further, just to ensure he knew the extent of your seriousness.

“Just two friends eating together,” he played into you, smiling once again. It seemed like the only thing he knew how to do when you were around.

“Reluctantly, at that.” You said, hoping he would lean forward and close the gap between your mouths.

“Stop pretending you hate me; you know that it’s not true.” He scolded, but his tone was incredibly soft. “We make fantastic friends, sweetheart, even if you don’t want to admit it.”

“Friends is being generous.” You tightened your grip on him again, drawn in further by the warmth of his skin. “We’re really good at fucking each other. Don’t know if we can call ourselves friends, yet.”

“We are really good at that, aren’t we?” He reminisced on the memory fondly, his eyes glazing over with a yearning so strong it nearly brought him to his knees. “Give the friends thing a few more days, I promise you won’t be disappointed.”

“Whatever you say, Jacob.” You hummed, finished with making conversation with him. You leaned forward, pressing your lips to his own in a moment of weakness. His hand drifted to the back of your neck, holding you to him as he responded with enthusiasm. His hand on your hip tightened, already enticed with the idea of sex again. You could not resist each other; the tension in the air was astounding whenever you shared the same space.

You were so immersed in each other that you did not even notice the food beginning to overcook in the frying pan, nor did you hear the opening of his front door. It was only when an unfamiliar voice sounded from behind you did either of you realize the carelessness of your actions.

“Jesus, are you trying to burn the place down?” The words sent a rush of fear through you, forcing you away from Jake with the same intensity of a child getting caught misbehaving. Jake recognized the tone immediately, rolling his eyes at the interruption.

“Sorry,” he muttered under his breath, giving your hip a gentle squeeze as he turned towards the disturbance. “Ever think of knocking?”

“I did, twice.” The boy stated, shutting off the stove and moving the pan to a cooler section of the surface.

“And when I didn’t answer you thought you should just… let yourself in?” Jake asked, casting a sideways glance at you to make sure you were okay. Aside from the blush on your cheeks and your racing heart, you almost found the situation comical. You had never been one to stress under any type of pressure.

“I have a key for a reason.” He shrugged, turning back to face the two of you. “Glad I did, though. Saved the fire department a trip over here.” The sassiness was astounding, and you thought it was hilarious. You recognized the boys face from the picture Jake had shown you the night before, and you were thrilled to see that his twin brother seemed to be a perfect match for Jake’s strong personality. They appeared to balance each other out, similar to the way the sun and the moon would for each other. The two seemed to be caught in a staring contest, housing a silent conversation with their eyes. After a moment, Josh made a move to speak again. “Are you going to introduce me to your girlfriend, or will I have to do that, too?”

“Oh, I’m not his girlfriend.” You cut him off, shaking your head at the thought. “Friends.” You clarified, knowing that the incriminating scene he walked in on was not backing your statement up. Josh laughed at your quick delivery, but understood what you were saying.

“Okay,” he nodded, a smile on his lips. “A friend who happens to be a girl?” He offered, raising an eyebrow.

“I like that better.” You nodded. “I’m y/n.”

“Josh.” He replied, looking between you and his brother. “Sorry for interrupting, I just live next door. Didn’t know he still had company.” He bit down on his lip, trying to stifle his laugh.

“No need to apologize,” you shook your head “think I was just getting ready to head home, anyway.” Jake visibly tensed at your words, angry at his brother for potentially being the reason he could not keep you there with him all day.

“Eat first,” Jake offered, looking back at you “I can take you home afterwards.” You caught his eye, noticing a silent plead for you to agree. You gave him a smile, nodding your head to tell him you would. You noticed him relax at the motion, happy that you felt no need to argue it. “You hungry?” He eyed his brother, extending the formality because he felt required to, not because he wanted to.

“Sure!” He grinned, happy for the invitation. Jake forced a smile as he nodded for the both of you to sit down. You did as he wanted, sliding off the counter and taking a seat at the kitchen table. As your eyes inspected the wood in which you were sat upon the night before, your cheeks burned at the memory and a rush of arousal ran through you once again. “So, Jake’s friend who is a girl but is not his girlfriend,” you looked up to meet Josh’s eyes, broken indefinitely from the vulgar train of thought. “Tell me about yourself.” You studied his face for a moment, finding their similarities astounding. In the picture you had seen, it was easy to tell them apart, but in person, you could really see the familiarity in their expressions.

“So, Jake’s twin brother, what would you like to know?” You asked, flashing a smile.

“He told you about me?” He pretended to gush over the thought.

“He did,” you nodded, laughing at the dramatic expression.

“Where are you from?” He asked.

“Here,” you answered, finding conversations with him much easier than the ones at the bar with his brother. You knew it was only because you were not interested in anything further than friendship with Josh, and you were incredibly invested in Jakes devastatingly beautiful presence. Friendship came easy to you, where as anything further did not, and you knew from the very beginning that Jake was looking to be much more than friends. “I’m a photographer, so when I graduated high school, I started my own little business and never really felt the need to leave.”

“That’s really cool.” He grinned, intrigued by your words. “How’d you end up with him? I know a pretty girl like you must’ve had more options than that.” You laughed at his question, but did not notice the look of daggers Jake shot at his twin.

“He’s alright, actually.” You defended, finding the humour comfortingly similar to your own. You were not shocked to know that Josh was just as charming and beautiful as his brother, yet it still seemed unfair that they had been born with such an advantage. “Guess we just ended up in the right place at the right time.” You shrugged.

“Seems so.” He agreed, watching as Jake handed out plates of food to everyone. Jake couldn’t help but feel jealous at the simplicity of your conversation with Josh. Although he liked the challenge, he was curious as to why you were so much more reserved with him. “Are you a music lover, friend that is a girl?”

“You can call me by name, you know.” You laughed at his question.

“I think I like the nickname better, but I’ll keep that in mind.” He joked.

“I do like music, though.” You nodded. “When your career is art in any form, I think it’s a given to enjoy music.”

“Fair point,” he nodded “any particular type?”

“I’m pretty well versed in all of the genres. My mom had me in piano lessons as soon as I could talk, so I’ve branched out quite a bit over the years.”

“Wait ‘till Sammy gets ahold of you. You’ll never get rid of him.” He laughed, eyeing Jake from the corner of his eye. You didn’t know if you were quite ready to meet the rest of the family, especially considering how abrupt your meeting with Josh was, but knowing that Sam shared a common interest was quite intriguing. You were still opposed to any type of relationship other than casual with Jake, but you were quickly growing fond of his brother. Then again, knowing Jake’s charm so well, you thought it would be impossible to not like the rest of the siblings. It was something he was born with, and you could only assume that the others would have it, too. You hoped that when the day was through, you would get the chance to talk with Josh again. He seemed like someone you would quite like to be friends with. Hopefully, you would eventually get to meet Sam and share your love for piano.

“Piano?” Jake asked, looking up at you. He was curious as to why you hadn’t told him that in your time together, but then again, he never asked. He was beating himself up for not trying harder to know you, because the more he listened to your voice, the more he felt inclined to get you to stay.

“Yeah,” you nodded, giving him a soft smile.

“Fitting.” He returned your expression, slinking his hand to your knee under the table.

“I’m sure Jake’s already made your ears bleed with the guitar, but if you’re more into vocals, I’d be happy to take you over to my apartment so you can get away from him for a while.” Josh teased, clearly only attempting to get under his brothers skin. Jakes gaze darted back to him, a look of anger flashing in his eyes.

“He hasn’t, actually, but I’ll keep that in mind for when he does.” You laughed, finding the brotherly competition funny.

“Really? That’s usually his go to when when’s trying to impress someone.”

“I guess I’ll look forward to it for next time.” You shrugged, making sure to settle Jake’s fears by letting him know you wanted to come back. He visibly relaxed back into his chair, happy to know that Josh had not managed to scare you away. You almost felt special at the knowledge, realizing he did not try to woo you with any of his usual tactics. When he said that you were special the night before, you did not believe him, yet as the time passed, you began to understand he was in fact telling you the truth. You should have known that when he wasn’t rushing you out the door first thing in the morning, but the confirmation was nice and very welcome.

“What about you, brother of the twin kind?” You asked. “Tell me about yourself.”

“There’s not much to say.” He shrugged, chuckling at your term of endearment. “I sing, I like film, and my lifelong goal is to piss him off.”

“Seems like a simple life.” You grinned.

“I enjoy it.” He agreed.

“Speaking of pissing me off, what exactly are you doing here?” Jake asked, raising an eyebrow at his brother.

“Oh, I came over to get the drafts of the songs we were working on the other night. Would have came over last night, but I think you were a bit preoccupied.” He giggled. Fear flooded you as you finally realized the extent of what he meant by saying he lived just next door. Your and Jake’s cheeks both tinged red with a blush, embarrassed by your unintentional public display of affection.

“If I give them to you, will you leave?” Jake asked, hoping for him to say yes.

“Sure.” Josh chuckled, finally realizing he may have overstayed his welcome. “Would it be somewhere in the pile of paper on the floor?” He couldn’t help but throw in another light jab, eyes flickering to the scattered items littering the ground.

Jake stood, reaching down and grabbing one of the journals from the mess and tossed it down on the table beside him.

“Yep,” he affirmed the joke, finding no need to lie about it. Your eyes were glued to the floor, though, permanently fixated on a flash of red peeking out from underneath Jake’s foot. Your stomach twisted with anxiety as you realized it was the torn remnants of your underwear he had ruined the night before. Then, a small flutter of adoration filled your chest, realizing he’d been concealing it the entire time to avoid causing you any further embarrassment.

“Guess that’s my cue to leave.” Josh chirped, rising to his feet. “I like her, Jake. You should bring her around more often.” He said, but it sounded more like he was scolding him.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Jake nodded, eager to get him out of his apartment.

“It was lovely meeting you, friend of the female genre, who is definitely not a girlfriend.” Josh flashed you a smile. “Hope to see you again.”

“You too, Josh.” You said, honesty radiating from you. You liked him, even if he seemed to come off a bit strong. He seemed like a bubblier version of Jake, who was much less inclined to try and get in your pants and more apt to brighten your mood.

“I’ll leave you be, then.” Josh looked back to his brother, telling him something without even opening his mouth. You almost envied the relationship between them, unable to comprehend knowing someone so well that you could communicate without words. With that, he turned away and walked back to his own apartment. Neither of you spoke a word until after you heard the door shut.

“Sorry about that, sweetheart.” He apologized, his posture relaxing as he took a seat again.

“No need to say sorry, I like him.” You admitted.

“Yeah, you certainly seemed to.” Jake said, a sour smile begging to turn his lips. “Gonna have to ask him what it takes to get you to admit that.”

“Are you jealous, honey?” You teased, almost unbelieving of the emotion in his voice. He rolled his eyes, unwilling to engage in your antics. “I like you too, Jake. A lot, if you haven’t noticed.” You said, realizing it had actually rubbed him the wrong way. Another one of your morals flushed down the drain in a split second decision, yet you didn’t seem to care. “Thanks for hiding the evidence.” You trailed off, looking to the floor at the torn piece of fabric. He looked down, too, almost laughing at the thought. He reached down, grabbing them off the ground before replying.

“Those are only for me to see, angel. I’m not that generous.” With that, he tucked the fabric neatly away in his pocket, flashing you a smile. You were furious at your body for wanting him so desperately, because you were already aching for relief just from his words alone. “You want to head home?” He changed the subject quickly, but his mind was still heavily occupied with the small memory sitting inside the pocket of his sweatpants.

“Yeah, sure. Wouldn’t want to take up too much of your day.” You nodded, yet you were almost saddened at the idea of going home. When you knew there was so much pleasure to be had in his company, being alone was lacklustre in comparison. “I can change out of these.”

“No, I’ll just grab them another time.” He said, the least bit concerned about getting them back.

“Okay.” You nodded, standing and grabbing your dress that was bunched up and hidden in the corner by the island. Without any further conversation, you made sure you had all of your belongings as he grabbed his car keys.

“Ready?” He asked, also noticing a sinking feeling in his stomach as he came to terms with the ending of your stay. You nodded, allowing him to lead the way outside. He showed you to his car, opening the passenger door for you before getting in himself.

The drive home was mostly silent aside from your occasional directions, yet you did not seem to find it uncomfortable. One of his hands was firmly clasped around the steering wheel, and the other was permanently anchored on your thigh. The hum of the radio was soothing as you watched the city go by through the tint of his windows. You let your hand rest gently on top of his, not yet comfortable enough to lace your fingers with his, but enough to know that you wanted to keep touching him. You pointed to a driveway just off of a side road, quietly telling him to turn into it. He did as you said, letting his eyes linger over the subtle decoration outside of the house. He smiled at the sight, finding yet another small detail about you that he was enthralled with.

“This is it.” You said, looking out the window at your front porch.

“So it seems.” He nodded, reluctant to pull his hand away from you. You both remained still, neither wanting to leave, and both dreading being the first to say goodbye.

“Thanks for everything. It was nice.” You admitted.

“It was my pleasure, sweetheart.” He assured you. “You should let me put my number in your phone, just in case you want to do it again sometime.” He looked over at you, praying to every higher power that you wouldn’t shoot him down.

“Yeah,” you nodded, happy he mentioned it. If you went inside without his number, you weren’t sure you would ever forgive yourself. You grabbed your phone from your pocket and pulled out your contact list, quickly handing it over to him. He took it, immediately typing in a number before giving it back. You looked down at the nameless number, finding it too impersonal after all you had shared with him over the course of your stay in his apartment. You hit the edit button, typing in just a single emoji; the little purple devil spoke more truth than a nickname ever could.

“Ah, the modern way to refer to a hookup.” He noted, chuckling at your choice of name.

“Exactly.” You agreed, but it was not why you chose it. Yes, he was a hookup that you would certainly be calling late at night, but it had little to do with the nature of your relationship, and everything to do with your judgement of his character. The longer you spent with him, the more you felt like he was the devil sent back to earth just to torture you. You typed in a small message, hitting send and waiting to hear the chime. After a second, his phone rang with your message, prompting a smile on your lips.

“Wanted to make sure I didn’t give you a fake number?” He asked, knowing that the idea was absolutely incredulous.

“Didn’t want to risk it.” You knew he would never have given you a fake phone number in hopes of losing contact with you. Your message served a single purpose, which was delaying your return to your own home. You leaned over, pulling him in for a kiss before bargaining with the thought of getting out of the car. He held you tightly, showing you through his actions that he was feeling exactly the same. “Do you… do you want to come in?” You rushed out, breathless from the kiss and nervous about rejection.

“I was hoping you’d ask.” He sighed, already stuck in a daydream of another night spent beside you, or more specifically, inside of you.

With a new found energy, you both bustled from the vehicle and rushed to the front door, caught in a fit of excited laughter. As you opened the door for him, you did not realize you had effectively opened the gate for him to come in and uproot your entire life. As you locked it behind you, the sin continued with no signs of slowing, now housed behind the four walls of your own home. When the two of you collapsed in a heap of limbs on the mattress, gluttony was bleeding from the walls and dripping down to stain your skin. When his hands ever so gently slipped under your shirt, exposing you to him once more, your second infraction of the capital vices made home in your hearts and stitched itself to the muscle, ensuring you could never escape its morbid fury.

With two already down and only five left to go, you were a fool to think that you would ever recover from the atrocities you had committed just to spend another minute alone in his company.

TAGLIST: @sacredjake @profitofthedune @thewritingbeforesunrise @sacredthethreadgvf @klarxtr @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @freefallthoughts @jaketlove @clairesjointshurt @ageofbajabule @dannys-dream @earthgrlsreasy @starshine-gvf @brujamagik @gvfmarge @ignite-my-fire @twistedmelodies @gretavangroupie @alwaysonthemend @edgingthedarkness @gvfpal @sinarainbows @writingcold @starcatcher-jake @literal-dead-leaf @takenbythemadness @gretasfallingsky @hsfallingsky @freyjalw @itsafullmoon @lyndz2names @blacksoul-27 @i-love-gvf

293 notes · View notes

kazumist · 2 months

Text

EPISODE 28 ✿ WHY WOULDN'T I MISS YOU?

YOU + ME = LOVE — A DILUC SMAU

masterlist / prev ep / next ep / wc: 682.

you didn’t know how or why, but somehow, your feet brought you to the same place you and diluc last spoke before he graduated. the night air was cold yet also relaxing for someone like you, who has a lot on their mind.

“hey,” you hear an all too familiar voice behind you. even after all these years, your hearing knows exactly what he sounds like.

“what are you doing here?”

if you could use two words to describe your situation right now, it would be fucking awkward. what are you even supposed to do? the man you loved when you were seventeen is suddenly back, like nothing happened (then again, nothing really happened between the two of you). do you say hi? do you ask him how he’s been for the past seven years?

do you walk away again, just like that day?

“... how are you lately?” hesitation leaks from his tone.

“fine. you?”

“i’ve been well.”

can this get any worse? it’s just so awkward—you might as well crawl into a hole and die rather than face your (greatest love) stupid first love from back then.

“i… i read your email.” shit. you’re probably going to regret saying that.

“oh? i’m glad.”

seven years. seven years since you both lost contact. seven years ever since diluc ragnvindr crashed into your life. seven years, ever since you two were just having your own fun in the library (though the nostalgia makes it feel like it only happened yesterday).

it has been seven years since you fell in love with him.

you nodded to him, avoiding eye contact. “i was… quite hesitant to open it back then, really. and once i’ve read it, i had no idea what to feel. was i supposed to feel ecstatic because my feelings were actually reciprocated? or was i supposed to hate you because you made me believe in love yet you didn’t even bother trying out long distance?” you said, sighing. “i really did love you, you know. i may have been seventeen and a tad bit dumb, but i knew enough that my feelings were real.”

“because you will always be my first love.”

it was silent for a moment. “cliche, isn’t it?” you chuckled weakly. why are you even telling him all of this? what a way to let him know that you never really moved on after all this time.

“no, it isn’t cliche,” diluc hesitantly replies.

“really? how so?”

“because.. i marked your email as one of my favorites so that whenever i was missing you, i’d read it” he replies.

your head perked up when you heard that, and your eyes immediately met his. “you… missed me?”

“why wouldn’t i miss you?”

“i… i thought you found someone else when you moved… i thought you forgot about me—about everything—and had some sort of life restart abroad,” you stammered. diluc takes a step towards you as your mind starts replaying that day again.

a hand travels to your cheek, cupping it ever so gently. he’s scared to lay a hand on you again. but for diluc, he thinks he might not get any opportunity like this ever again. his thumb grazes over your cheekbone slightly, minding his actions and making sure they don’t make you uncomfortable. and then he whispers:

“do you think that i could ever forget you?” his eyes don’t leave yours even for a second. “do you think that i would allow myself to be happy with someone else? when i have clearly promised you that i will come back for you?”

“after seven long years, (name), you’re still the one my heart calls for, and i don’t think that fact will ever change.”

“are you sure?” you asked him back in a whisper.

“positively.”

fuck it.

you pulled him in for a kiss. it was gentle and slow as your hands traveled to his nape and pulled him closer. diluc’s hands placed themselves on your waist, and you could feel your heart beating hard.

and just as diluc hoped, you did welcome him back with open arms.

extra notes.

reader is kinda marupok but hey thats diluc

not very girlboss but youll see a male lead the reader chasing soon in someone else's story <3

taglist (open): @ryuryuryuyurboat @g4bbyyy @kizakiss @quackimilktea @mochiboo123 @thystarsshine @cerisescherries @jamieexistss @the-ghost-0f-t0m0 @aethion @dottoreworld-page @naishite @sleepyeri @staaarhin @eroxotckv @kiyiiaarchived @fallenssun @lolmeowing @dorryx @astolary @kissingkzuha @axerrri @a1-ic3 @lottierulez @livelaughlovekuni @sorcerersseestars @whipped-for-fictionals @morganadorodo @briluvspnk @venderretta @xiaosoneandonly @angeilix @morgyyyyyyy @kazioli @the-massive-simp @qtange @tiredjxnna @yuminako @acheronie @sn1perz @akitokisser @siu-ssi @artri-ad @hyeinszn @saeskiss @bubblegum-angelquartz @boomie-123 @moni11032 @sandwichmyonetruelove @cherrybb-ily @itztaki @dontmindtheevie @hotgirlshit5 [1/2]

#( smau — you + me = love ! )#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin smau #diluc ragnvindr x reader #diluc x reader #diluc smau #diluc #x reader

184 notes · View notes

spikedsoul · 11 months

Text

A Different Ending

(source: taka on twitter, 18+ only! seriously!)

here we are, the first of several writings for the 400-500 follower celebration! a new chapter of mwn is also coming out within the next day or so, followed with one more short and a request someone made ages ago!

Bowser heaved a deep, heartbroken sigh as he gazed down at the quiet piranha plant clutched between his claws; he was yet again sitting alone on a bench after a failed marriage attempt, which usually wasn't a big deal, but this one had stung much more than anything else in the past. He was in one of the most romantic places there was - behind a beautiful chapel on the fucking moon with the Earth twinkling in the sky above - dressed to the nines in a fancy white and purple tuxedo and his mane meticulously styled, as requested, and yet he still sat alone, which he'd been promised wouldn't happen. Or at least, he wasn't supposed to be sitting alone with only a broken promise for company.

Peach had lied to him.

Again.

He suddenly chucked the piranha plant away from him with a deep growl, his frustration with himself mounting as he watched the poor plant land on top of his discarded jacket. One day he needed to learn to just quit her entirely, and honestly this seemed like a fantastic last straw. The final offense to crack his shell.

She'd come to him so sweetly, as always. "Oh, Bowser, can you help me get Mario to chase me again? But this time let's make it a wedding!"

He'd thought she was mocking him at first until she went out of her way to get him a custom suit and everything. More than that, though, she swore up and down she'd give him something he'd always wanted - provided he knew it didn't mean she was suddenly changing her mind about him.

Bowser groaned and leaned forward on the bench, putting his face in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. He was so fucking dumb! And now there was a chapel full of people thinking the worst of him, again, when really the whole scheme was Peach's idea.

He'd sold himself out for the promise of a kiss he was never going to get.

The only small solace he had was that she actually turned Mario down too when the idiot plumber had gotten a little too aggressive trying to give her flowers… but honestly, that didn’t help heal the rage beginning to bubble in his heart.

“Excuse me…”

Bowser’s head jerked up, his lip curled back over a fang to warn off whoever dared interrupt him - only to see you standing there, giving him a sympathetic, dare he think it, pitying smile. He recognized you from the few times you’d gotten caught up in some of the shenanigans between him and those plumbers.

He switched his snarl to a scowl rather quickly and looked away. “What.”

In his peripherals, he saw you point at the piranha flower bouquet; he braced himself for a teasing remark about the only things willing to sit near him being aggressive plants. He didn’t have a reason to suspect that from you, at all, but that didn’t stop him from assuming. It was suspicious enough you left the “reception” to walk around and find him.

“Do you mind if I sit with you?” you asked softly.

He whipped his head around in surprise as he fixed his wary gaze on you. His brain thoroughly scrambled, he first nodded, then shook his head, and finally winced at himself.

“You - you can sit,” he finally managed, scooting over just a bit to make room for you.

You gave him a suspiciously warm smile and reached to pick up the bouquet so you could sit. You were so gentle that the quiet plants didn’t start snapping, even as you settled them back on your lap - and that was oddly intriguing to him. He shifted to face you a little more, his thick arm draping over the back of a bench as he forced a scowl.

“What do you want, woman?” he growled when you didn’t immediately speak.

You were quiet for a moment, focused on the ribbon on the bouquet, then looked up at him. “I’m sorry she did this to you.”

He inhaled sharply, his eyes going wide in surprise. His mouth fell open like he wanted to say something, but nothing came out even after a few tries. Just how much did you know?

You looked back down at the bouquet as you smiled again; there was something sad about it this time that made his stomach feel like it flipped over. His stunned silence clearly betrayed just how shocked he was that you know.

“I heard her talking about it when I visited the palace,” you explained softly. “She was actually sort of laughing about it. And then knowing she’s happy to let you take the fall, despite all this being her plan…” You shook your head, looking up at him again. “I just thought I’d come check on you.”

“Me–?!”

“Yes, you.” You didn’t give him time to say anything else before you cut him off with a resolute nod. “You’re the fall guy, always, but from the few times I’ve interacted with you, you don’t seem like such a terrible guy to me.”

He growled quietly, immediately on the defensive that anyone could possibly see him as decent… despite desperately wanting exactly that. But who even were you, exactly? Yes, he could read the little nametag pinned to your dress, and as he mulled it over in his mind, he could remember Greenie and Red Idiot calling you that several times. But who were you to them? And how in the hell did you end up involved in their shit sometimes?

“What are you to them?” he demanded. Instead of flinching at either the growl or his demand, you just smiled a little bit, catching him off guard, and he blinked.

“The brothers, I assume you mean. I’m supposed to be their secretary for their plumbing business, but it seems like I get dragged into unwanted adventures by sheer association with them… and their shop has been closed since the last time a certain someone decided to try and raid it.” You raised both of your eyebrows at him in an unimpressed manner, clearly indicating his recent attempt to kidnap one of the brothers directly.

Bowser rubbed the back of his neck and looked away, pouting a bit. He… sort of liked how you were so boldly challenging him, if he was honest. You weren’t being abrasive about it, but you were letting him know that you honestly weren’t afraid of him.

“Look,” he muttered, “they just get on my fuckin’ nerves, okay? Didn’t mean to put you outta a job…”

“Well, I’m still getting paid, so it’s not such a big deal. Anyway, I also wanted to let you know that you look dashing in your tux… I’m not sure if anyone bothered to mention that, something else I think is a little unfair.” You sighed softly, like you really believed what you were telling him.

Maybe he could take advantage of the situation? Why not? He hadn’t self-sabotaged in fifteen minutes at least.

He pressed his lips together as he glanced back at you thoughtfully. You tilted your head to the side curiously, like an adorable, confused chain chomp pup.

Here went everything.

“Since you seem to be so concerned about me, li’l lady,” he started slowly, rubbing his chin in thought, “how ‘bout I take you out on a date, and I’ll tell you anything you’re curious about. How’s that sound?” He smirked a bit.

His smirk slowly faded as you seemed to actually consider his offer. After a moment or two, you smiled, stood, and gently set the bouquet back down in its spot. He watched as you stood in front of him; your hands came up to cup his cleft chin and his heart jumped at your gentle touch, his eyes widening at the bold move.

This wasn’t even remotely what he expected.

You smiled oh so sweetly at him, warm and inviting and completely unafraid. “Counter offer,” you murmured. He nodded dumbly. “I’m gonna go back inside, but if you follow me in I’ll call this a first date, and I’ll consider letting you take me on a second one.”

He didn’t reply. He couldn’t, too utterly shocked by this. You giggled softly when he didn’t respond.

“No pressure,” you said softly. “Not like you don’t know where to find me.” And then you made things a million times worse by kissing the side of his muzzle before promptly turning and strutting back toward the front of the chapel. His jaw dropped as he watched you go; behind him, his tail was wagging something fierce, knocking moon dust around.

That just happened. That really just happened, without him making a deal for it or anything. You willingly kissed him of your own volition. But now you were walking away…

Wait. No. You weren’t Peach - you had left the invitation open. He was letting you walk away.

…Was he fucking stupid?!

By the time he fully registered everything, you had disappeared around the front of the building. In an instant, he was on his feet and sprinting toward the front of the chapel in pursuit, skidding around the corner and bounding up the steps a few at a time. He ignored the stares he got from the few beings in the foyer, but it was hard to ignore the startled yelps from people when he rather violently slammed the door open with more strength than he meant to.

When he glanced around, all eyes were on him. “Uh… sorry,” he muttered. Maybe this had been a bad id–

“Bowser!”

His head whipped around shamefully fast at the sound of your bright voice and he locked his eyes on your smiling face at the far end of the chapel. For the first time in his life, he suddenly felt rather self conscious, but he slowly made his way toward you when you beckoned him over. His shoulders hunched, he held his arms close to his body, and his tail curled around his legs as he picked his way between the tables and guests; as he moved, though, a bashful smile settled on his maw, the tip of his tail flicking despite being wrapped around his leg.

You held your hand out to him when he got closer, smiling warmly at him. He was acutely aware of just how small your hand was compared to his as he took hold of it, but you didn’t look bothered in the least. In fact, there was genuine excitement in your eyes as you looked up at him. It made him duck his head in embarrassment.

“People are starin’,” he mumbled as he got himself sat beside you. His smile hadn’t faded, though.

“If I cared what people thought about me, you might never have met me,” you chuckled softly. “They can stare all they want; I’m delighted you decided to come join me.” You used your free hand to push a loaded plate of food at him, but he ignored it for now.

He gazed down at you; his tail slowly uncurled from his legs and began to sway a little behind him. “You really mean that, don’tcha,” he stated softly.

You nodded and your smile became softer, but more serious. “I do. Sometimes I’m a little too honest, but at least that means you’ll know I’m not lying to you. But I won’t just say mean things to be mean, either… just to clear that up.”

For the first time all day, Bowser chuckled. “I appreciate the honesty,” he rumbled. “This also means if you feel like things ain’t gonna work out that you’ll say somethin’, right?”

“Of course. Unlike some people-” you coughed softly and shot a glance toward a portrait of Princess Peach hanging near the altar “-I don’t enjoy playing with people’s feelings. Everyone deserves a chance, and I believe that firmly, but if it looks like we aren’t compatible long term I’ll say something.” You blushed a little as you finally took your hand back to start eating.

He laughed softly at the contemptuous look you’d sent Peach’s portrait. You really were something else, and though he wouldn’t mention it to you, he felt like already there was a sort of connection that he never had with Peach. He could easily see you turning out to be the one for him - but he wouldn’t hold his breath, just in case.

“I guess that means I’ll just have to enjoy every single moment with ya, just in case,” he purred smoothly, watching as your face reddened. Good, that meant he was back in his groove, and you were squarely in his sights.

To your credit, though, you kept your composure, sending him a sweet smile. “Well, aren’t you a smooth operator,” you chimed. “I kinda like that… confidence looks good on you.”

A shiver threatened to crawl up his spine, but luckily he managed to suppress it by the time it got to the base of his tail; he couldn’t stop the heat that rushed to his cheeks, unfortunately. Not only had you gone out of your way to check on him after this fucking catastrophe, but you also appreciated his lines and said it even suited him… he wasn’t entirely sure what to expect (given he’d only tried for Princess Peach before now) but he was starting to get pretty excited.

He leaned in closer to you with a quiet purr. “Well, how about we blow this joint and I’ll show you just how confident I can be, hm?”

You giggled softly in surprise, your face still flushed a lovely shade even as you tried to hide your fluster behind your hand.

“What, eager to get to date number two?” you teased.

“Or maybe I was hopin’ we could prolong date number one.”

You pursed your lips in thought as you regarded him, but after a few heart-pounding moments, you nodded, that beautiful, bashful smile never leaving you. “Alright, that actually sounds nice; did you have something in mind?”

What did he have in mind? Honestly, he wasn’t sure he’d expected you to agree so readily, despite all the signs you were genuinely interested in him. But he didn’t want to run you off already by being too aggressive or forward, or anything like that even though you just said you liked his confidence. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to do something a little more lowkey this first time…

He pressed his lips together briefly in thought before a wide grin pulled his lips back. Of course! It was so simple!

“Well,” he hummed, “how ‘bout some sky gazin’? I know a nice little place ‘round the back of this chapel, once we’re done here… We could talk and get to know each other a bit more before the second date?”

You reached over with a warm smile, resting your hand on his forearm. “You know, I think that sounds lovely. It’ll be nice getting to know the real you, the ones most others don’t get to see.”

Bowser’s tail felt like it was about to break the confines of the little foldable chair, it was wagging so hard. His heart was already threatening to break the confines of his chest just from your willing touch, but the gentle rub that followed practically made him swoon. If you kissed his snout again he just might faint.

Briefly, his mind tried to convince him that this was all some sick joke - but his gut told him you really were being genuine.

People were staring, not snickering, and there hadn’t been anyone outside to see you be so sweet. Nor would there be anyone to witness the second half of this date.

“Do you wanna head out already?”

The sound of your voice had him blinking back into the present. He had enough presence of mind to reply, “Thought you were hungry?”

You chuckled softly, smiling up at him. “I’ve eaten a little bit. If I’m still hungry later, we can go get something, how’s that sound?” You rubbed his forearm again, though did take the chance to get another bite in.

He nodded too eagerly as he put way too much effort into standing up like a calm, collected adult, forced to hold his tail with one hand to keep it from knocking anything over due to his excitement. His other hand extended to you, palm up in an invitation.

“Shall we, beautiful?” he rumbled, smiling warmly at you.

You placed your hand in his, a quiet, pleased hum escaping you as you allowed him to help you to your feet. Your eyes met his, and in a soft but earnest voice, you replied, “Lead the way, handsome.”

#bowser #bowser x reader #bowser x y/n #fanfic #fanfiction #super mario bros #ficlet #one shot

854 notes · View notes

everythingne · 5 months

Text

marketing ploy - LN4 / ch. 3

a little (drunken) insight to Olivia and Oscar's relationship. Plus, a conversation she’s definitely not supposed to overhear, and one she finds makes her start to regret everything.

piastri!oc x lando norris / fake dating, brothers best friend trope

warnings/notes: alcohol/drunkness, language, like two jokes about sex, i named oscars sisters bc i couldn't find anything after two minutes of searching and also its cute ok

prev | next

—

06 APRIL 2023 — MELBOURNE, AUSTRALIA ↴

“Oscar!” I shout, the clock striking midnight. At my mother's house in Melbourne, we’re already all terribly drunk in the pool with only our eldest sister Ophelia's half sober boyfriend to make sure we all don’t drown while the 'middle' sister Oaklynn is in control of the aux so our extended family can't ruin the mood with what we call 'divorced dad rock.' It's an average Piastri birthday party, booze, music, and sopping wet bodies across the pool deck in the mid Autumn chill.

“Ollie?” Oscar says, turning around and slipping on the wet deck, splashing vodka all over the ground beneath him. Lily giggles into the back of her hand, steadying herself on his arm, and I snort as Oscar makes a face at the spilled drink.

We were so not going to have a good flight back to England tomorrow night.

“Happy birthday to my twin brother because its now midnight, baby!” I shout, being met with loud cheers as my mother guides me across the pool deck so I don't fall in. As Lily takes the now half empty glass from Oscar, I'm handing him what is probably the biggest shot of the night. He grins, arm wrapping around my shoulder as we clink our glasses in toast, tap them on our lifting knees and then take the shots with no chasers. The Fireball washes down my throat fine, but Lily’s shrill laugh lets me know Oscar’s not faring so well as our family claps at our celebratory shots.

“Come on, Ossie!” I laugh, leaning into him as I giggle and he laughs in turn, hiding his face in my hair as he groans and slumps against me. Luckily, Lily is smart enough to slip the shot glasses out of our hands.

“Why do I always let you pick Fireball? It burns every time I drink it.” He complains into my hair before stepping back, I grin up at him as a polaroid flashes.

“Twenty two slaps!” someone shouts before I can respond to Oscar. I scream, running to be out of the way of the barrage of backhands from our sisters when I trip. Oscar tries to catch me, bless him, and we both end up screaming as we tumble into the pool with a loud splash.

“Good lord—" Josh, Ophelia's boyfriend laughs, and he and Lily help us all back to the deck with plenty of half-wet towels to try and dry us off. I giggle and sit up once the parties attention is shifted elsewhere, some song playing that takes the heat off of us for a moment. I peek up to look at Oscar and he smiles at me, poking my nose.

“Thanks for this party." He says and I shrug, going to say its no big deal as I always do when he continues talking,

"Lando’s stress is rubbing off on me. With him being next in line for the best racer position, McLaren's pushing me and Bia up as quick as they can. I think they're expecting someone to try and buy Lando out from them.” he murmurs and in my head, the rest of the party fizzles out. My attention is solely on the man born a few minutes before me. His arm wraps around mine as he pulls me to his side. I slot there, where I belong, a comforting embrace of an older brother of the same womb.

"Lando's contract goes to 2026, and lets not worry about F1 right now." I poke his thigh where a bruise from a minor crash in training months back was finally finishing its healing stages, "Ossie, you, and everyone here, come before anything or anyone else. I would rather throw you a big party than fly back to England to chase around statistics with Red Bull for a few days."

I close my eyes as the world spins around me and I feel Oscar shift. His body heat vanishing around my shoulders, the air seemingly changes as some sort of breeze rolls across the pool deck. It makes me shiver, and I glance up at Oscar to see him staring into the light reflections of the glowsticks deep in the water our legs dip into.

“Ossie?” I whisper. He's in his head again, and this time I'm concerned it's my fault for some reason. His tongue pokes out, a sharp breath coming through his nose before he turns to me.

“What’s happening with you and Lando?"

Oh for the love of god--

"I know, I know, okay, older brother don’t let him hurt you speech bullshit blah blah but… is there something there?” Oscar blurts out with the upmmost care in his tone. I'm taken aback by how genuinely worried he seems about it.

“It’s nothing serious.” I deflect, hand coming to squeeze his wrist just above the watch he wears (that is definitely ruined now), “Just some flirting, some gifts… it’s like testing the waters.”

“Is he… kind to you?” Oscar's tone is far too accusing for my liking, almost like he's expecting me to say no, but despite that I nod.

“Too kind.” I find a small giggle escapes my lips. I have the urge to tell him everything, to say it’s all for media, but something makes me stop myself other than knowing it would kinda ruin the whole secrecy of it. Oscar watches my face, and I can see him sense there’s a lie, but he doesn’t push.

“Okay.” he sighs, taking my hand and squeezing it, “as long as he’s good to you.”

OLIVIAPIASTRI MADE A NEW POST ↴

tagged: oscarpiastri, oaklynnpiastri, opheliapiastri

liked by redbullracing, mclarenracing, landonorris, and 896k others...

oliviapiastri: to ossie,

happy birthday to the only guy worthy of sharing a girls night wine bottle with. thank u for always being our biggest supporter in the darkest days and a ray of sunshine on our good ones. papaya looks wonderful on u and we cannot wait to see you grow into such a confident person (thank u @ landonorris for that)

ur a good man, charlie brown. much love from oakie, ophie, and ollie (and lily, josh, momma, and dad) 🧡🧡

landonorris: happy birthday to the only guy who is allowed to pick me up from the club atp

⤷ oscarpiastri: u would be dead without me

⤷ landonorris: actually.

maxverstappen1: ayyy happy birthday man !

lovepiastris: AAAA BABY OSCAR!!!

oscarpiastri: watch me literally sob into this chardonnay.

mclaren: easily the best looking siblings 💪🏻😮‍💨

10 APRIL 2023 — MILTON KEYNES, UK ↴

"I'm bored." Oscar whines over the phone, making me laugh as I settle down at my desk in Red Bull's home base. There's about sixteen hours worth of things I need to cram into the next eight, considering my statistics for the next grand prix are due in like... twenty six hours?

"Aren't you supposed to be training?" I hum, reading through files and highlighting important notes I know I'll need to bring up with my team during our meeting tonight.

"Lando's going right now, and I kinda almost puked after endurance so I’m taking a break.” He makes a mock gagging noise and I recoil and groan and his soft laughter comes through my headphones.

"Christ, Ossie." I lean back in my chair, staring at the list of notes of things we need to improve by Azerbaijan, "Augh, this is gonna be the death of me. Max's numbers keep changing so he keeps skewing the data, at least Perez is pretty consistent."

"How many sensors do you guys have for Azerbaijan?"

"I'm not doing that work today, thats Kylie's job. Most of my work right now is just making sure that the car isn’t literally falling apart in Max’s hands since he’s been pushing it so hard this year.” I run my hand through my hair, feeling the grease along my hairline and cringing. I need a self-care day soon.

"Oh and Kylie’s pretty much running real time analytics herself this race so I might be able to hang around you at McLaren for a while if Christian's not breathing down my neck."

“Sick. I need to introduce you to the new social media photographer. Lando convinced her to a do a whole section on film.” Oscar giggles and my eyes widen--film photography was one of my passions in secondary school, and I can't imagine trying to shoot F1 on it.

“This poor girl.” I laugh as I adjust my seating and open the sensors scan from the left tire of Max's car, noting any abnormalties that haven't already been flagged. In the silent lull in the conversation, there’s a click and a creak on Oscar’s end of the call.

“Oscar—“ Lando’s talking is muffled for half a second before I hear something fall and a chair squeak, “what were you trying to ask me about earlier?”

My did my heart flutter when I heard Lando talk?

Nope. No. No, thank you. No.

I did not like Lando Norris.

“Oh—hold on Ollie—I’m going to attempt to mute.” I hear Oscar laugh as he taps his phone-screen, and like many times I’ve been on the phone with him I have to pause to see if he actually managed to mute the call.

Oscar seemed to always miss the important buttons, like hanging up or muting himself. Over the years, I’ve heard quite a few things I wasn’t supposed to.

Like Oscar’s next question—

“If I don’t just say it I’m never gonna ask, because it’s such a cliche thing but—what exactly are you trying to do with my sister..?”

I nearly die as my cheeks flush bright red as I scramble to pick my phone up.

Okay, super overdramatic reaction, but hearing this conversation happen in real time is not something I can feel like I would be able to physically handle. So, I’m quick to turn my volume all the way down and take off my headphones as soon as Lando’s laugh makes my cheeks dust pink.

Oscar was never particularly protective over me, in fact it had always been opposite. Even as the youngest Piastri I was constantly protecting my older siblings with my whole heart, like when Oaklynn was being bullied by her pole vaulting captain and I hit that guy so hard I broke his nose, or when Ophelia first got her heart broken and I drove all the way from Melbourne to Sydney in one go to pick her and her stuff up from his house. Oscar and I had many moments like that, considering our sisters were a bit older than us, it was always Oscar and I together. I had moved to England with him when he chose to pursue racing, he had been there every late night I spent studying to get into analytics as early as I had.

And I knew one day Oscar would have this conversation with the man I would marry, someone who took my entire heart in his hands and held it so gently I felt safer than I ever had.

But, Lando was not that guy. Not as far as I was aware.

Maybe ten minutes later, figuring the conversation is long done, I turn up the volume and just catch the end of it. Oscar's laughing, theres a soft thwack of someones arm being hit as Lando keeps talking, his voice fading into my headphones.

"...Ollie's just... I could stare at her all day and never get bored."

"You are--" Oscar laughs, and I hear him hit Lando's arm again, "so so goddamn cheesy, mate!"

"Sorry!" Lando laughs, and I try to ignore the way I bring a hand to my mouth as I stand up and pace around a little, shaking my hands and arms out a I try to suppress the giggles that bubble to my chest.

10 APRIL 2023 — IMESSAGE ↴

OLIVIAPIASTRI MADE A NEW POST ↴

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 978k others..

oliviapiastri: ‘can i come pick u up from work?’ and then we end up at a car meet AND i get to sleep over?? win win.

⤷ maxverstappen1: @ charlesleclerc shovel talk?

⤷ charlesleclerc: yep.

⤷ oliviapiastri: oscar has already been yelling at me for like five hrs pls i swear nothing happened

redbullracing: lets just not tell christian you were out of the sunroof of a drift car.

mc481: lando and olivia spotted together... olivia suddenly has a new bf...

oaklynnpiastri: BABY SISTER HAS A BOYYYY AAAAAAAA

letsgolando: OH MY GOD THE FLOWERS?

18 APRIL 2023 - AZERBAIJAN GP PADDOCKS ↴

"Olivia Piastri."

"Max Verstappen."

"Olivia Louise Rae Piastri."

"Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc."

"Shit, she remembered."

I snort as I set my bag down as Max and Charles hover at my desk in the Azerbaijan paddocks. I'm starting to think the Ferrari driver might be having a contract change soon if his team is so lax with him basically living with us in Red Bull.

"What?" I ask, crossing my arms as the fabric of one of Lando's plain black leather jackets he'd lent me rubs the fabric of the sweatshirt I'd stolen from him underneath.

"How was your drift date?" Max grins and I roll my eyes as I plop down in my chair. Charles takes his spot in one of the side chairs as Max sits on the edge of my desk.

"He showed up to Red Bull, brought me flowers, we stopped to get takeout food and then went to the car show. He knew one of the guys drifting so we got to ride in his car and then he invited me over to watch a movie and we both fell asleep halfway through." I lean forward, "does that satisfy you?"

"Sleep?" Charles prods and I take a pen off my desk and throw it at him.

"Yes, sleep." I huff and before Max and Charles can continue their barrage of idiotic comments and questions, three knocks sound to the creak of the hinges as Christian steps into my office with Ada right behind him.

"Morning Chris, Ada." I nod and Max and Charles stand, greeting them both with firm handshakes.

"Ferrari might need their driver back, Leclerc, and Max--you need to get dressed." Christian waves them off without as much as a hello, before Ada shuts and locks my office door.

"What?" I find myself asking again as Ada grins to me.

"Sales are up 70%." She says, "We've made around... 28 thousand pounds so far."

"Holy shit." Is all I can say. 28 thousand pounds in revenue because Lando and I were pretending to date?

"You guys are doing swimmingly, we just have one more stipulation. You've already done the soft launch, Lando will be doing his tonight. The next thing you guys need to do, other than the paparazzi date but Astrid is working with Lando on that right now, is the celebration." Ada clasps her hands, Christian nods, keeping his back to the door that leads into the office and for some reason it feels suffocating.

"Great Britain. Hopefully Lando will podium, its his home race, a nice little kiss, it'll be cute."

We have to kiss in front of everyone. How could I fucking forget? The GB prix isnt for a while, two months if I remember right, but my mouth goes dry at the thought of kissing Lando Norris.

I don't remember agreeing and bidding goodbye to the two, all I know is my stomach ache doesn't go away for the rest of the night. Even when I ball the fabric of Lando's jacket--still smelling like him, over my face and scream into it.

LANDONORRIS MADE A NEW POST

liked by oscarpiastri, charlesleclerc, redbullracing, and 987k others

landonorris: made a pretty good pinkie promise a while ago.

oscarpiastri: good man

mclaren: we love to see our racers winning 🥹

mercedeeznnn: this has to be olivia. IT HAS TO BE.

maxfewtrell: don't fuck it up norris

⤷ landonorris: trying

rbfansunite: so we're all thinking the same thing right?

papapa.ya: LANDO AND OLIVIA !!!! WE WIN !!!!

#formula one #f1 #formula 1 #lando norris fic #lando norris x oc #lando norris #ln4 fic #ln4

252 notes · View notes