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#made this instead of sleeping :0)
shorelinnes · 3 months
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jump rope: 2, han jisung: 0
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birdietrait · 6 months
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number1villainstan · 4 months
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Nanami: which one of you was gonna tell me that tea tastes different if you put it in hot water vs cold water Juri: You're putting it in cold water? Miki: Nanami. Answer the question Nanami. Nanami: Yeah? I thought that people just put it in hot water to speed up the tea-ification process. Didn't realize there was an actual reason. Miki: You don't have the patience to microwave water for three minutes? Juri: Why are you putting it in the microwave to boil it? Miki: You think I have the patience to boil water on a stove?? Juri: It takes LESS THEN A MINUTE Miki: BESTIE IS YOUR STOVETOP POWERED BY THE FRICKING SUN Touga: fricking? Juri: HOW LONG DOES IT TAKE YOU TO BOIL A CUP OF WATER ON THE STOVE Miki: LIKE SEVEN MINUTES Juri: just stick the mug on top of the stove on medium heat and it boils in like two minutes. less than that and you use a saucepan Touga: You're putting the whole mug on the stove? On medium heat?? Your stove is enchanted Wakaba: every single person in this room is a fucking lunatic Saionji: DO NONE OF YOU OWN A FUCKING KETTLE
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poicyss · 2 years
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Day 8 🎵 Idol Everyone's favorite robo-idol, Tempo!
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boowritess · 2 months
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notsobaddasssoldier!reader who is kinda a cunt
reader who just doesn't give a shit about the 141 rank or title.
"you think just cause your captain of some lil task force i'm gonna bend over backwards for you? be serious."
"cool you're lieutenant...and.... anything else interesting? like how you think halloween is 24/7, or...?"
"oh so it's a big accomplishment you're sergeant at your big age? tell someone who cares."
you're just so... eh about their ranks. but they get some power trip when you call them said rank. makes them feel some sort of way that depsite your snark, you still call them by rank. showing the clear difference of inferiority and superiority between you and them.
till you notice and shut that shet down.
"your so fucking stupid. it's like if i met The Pope. I'm gonna call him Pope because he's The Pope. I still don't give a shit though."
"or like meeting a Doctor and calling them Doctor. I don't give a fuck that the persons a Doctor. I'll still call em it."
"better yet. hate the king. hate the queen. but i still call them the queen and king. because their dumbassary is just linked to their 'ranks'. if you keep annoying me the same is gonna go for you."
you have so much sass and snark that it becomes a truly humbling experience. and it's like - damn. they could put you over their knee and really put you in your place but reader takes things from 0-100 real fucking quick.
"you wanna what you fucking freak?"
"excuse me-?"
"you're so fucking dumb. get a braincell dumb bitch. do it and fucking find out what happens."
"shot me in the head and watch my corpse not give a fuck because I don't."
and when the guys get a lil too fucking serious about putting reader in their place. reader suddenly has a gun pointed at their face. you see what I mean by taking things to 0-100 real quick?
"dummy. really tryna fuck with me when we're surrounded by guns? fuck outta here with that bullshit."
"matter fact I'd just kill myself-"
"NO!" *141*
it's obvious you may be young and perhaps a little too mouthy for your own good but it's clear you're not going to be pushed around.
but it's obvious you ain't here for the 'greater good' and just doing the work to get the paycheck. while the guys find your snark to be really fucking annoying.
it turns out that you definitely have some perks.
you may not be able to hold yourself very long in battle, just a very basic solider with basic skill sets- your mouth and attitude can really work wonders on people.
in particular, the egotistical rookie who things they're all that. taking their sweet time with basic tasks, belittling other recruits who can do the bare minimum. just in general, an asshole. that's when you step in.
"you ain't shit bitch cause at the end of the fucking day turdface, you ain't bullet proof. i can shoot you right now, and all your running and yapping will cease to exist. your corspe will rot. people will stop knowing you as the loudmouth rookie, and you will just become nothing. infact. you are nothing."
*the recruit opens their mouth. you interrupt.*
"Nothing."
*recruit tries again.*
"Nothing."
it's an endless cycle that ceases when your hardened glare doesn't stop and you pick up a rock intending to throw it at the recruit. the blank, dead, serious look in your eyes showing you are more than fucking serious.
what really works wonders though, is they way you aren't worried about putting a superior in their place. the other 141 have basically been beaten in and to not question anything. they have been made to believe they are weapons more than human.
that gets shut down real quick.
you all have just come back from mission, that was grueling. a couple of you were injured. everyone looked worse for wear. dirts, scratches, blood. someone no longer had their vest. a few lost weapons. barely had any inventory. needing food, sleep, and then a long shower shower.
but instead waiting for the task force, was a superior officer, holding the next mission file. a mission they were supposed to be getting ready for and practically leave as soon as they got back.
before price could grab for it, you intercept. grabbing the mission file and throwing it at the superior officers face.
"you giant fucking anal peice of dried solid dog shit. we're not fucking doing that. we just got back from hiding in a fucking forest for three weeks with enemy surrounding us to get intel from a camp- THAT WASN'T FUCKING THERE. so you better turn and take those pretty polished shoes to another task force."
"what is your name, soldier?" *superior officer growls.*
"Dolly Parton. Now Dolly has just worked longer than a nine to five and Dolly ain't got the patience for dealing with a man like you. i got two bullets left. one for you and one for me. and if you think i won't do it- well we can put it to the test now-"
perhaps it was the utter dead look in your eyes, or the gentle yet seething venom in your tone. the superior officer simply growls and turns on their feet, leaving the task force.
it's funny cause you do get the respect, you are barely a good soldier but dang you can get shit done when need be. so price doesn't transfer you. he still keeps you close.
ghost is the one who loves the feral little shit you are. gaz and you talk mad shit about everyone on base. soap just absolutely adores you, you're the little sibling he's always wanted.
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a/n: inspired by the feral nature of gen z.
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kaleldobrev · 11 months
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Comfortable?
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader
Summary: Falling asleep in Dean's lap while he's driving
Word Count: 516
Warnings: None, honestly just pure fluff
Authors Note: Takes place pre-season one | Would anyone be up for a pre-season series with reader and Dean? Been really in the mood to write a little something | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡
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You didn't know what it was about Baby that had made you feel so safe and secure, but each and every time you stepped foot inside of her, all anxiety and fear that you once had would quickly wash away. She wasn't a quiet vehicle by any means. The engine roared, and sometimes she would bump a little more prominently on certain roads, the sound of legos would rattle when the AC or heat would be turned on, and Dean would always have some type of cassette playing even if you were attempting to get even a wink of sleep.
The more you thought about it, maybe it wasn't Baby who had made you feel safe and secure, but it was the man that drove her.
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As Dean drove along the highway, there were no cars in sight. The only kind of light for miles were the headlights of Baby; not even streetlamps. Metallica was playing softly on the radio, as Dean lowered the volume so the two of you could talk without yelling over the music. But the conversation didn't last long as you felt your eyes starting to grow heavy.
You wanted to try and stay up so you could continue talking to Dean, but the tiredness that you were feeling was starting to take over more and more. Letting out a small yawn, you pressed your back to the passenger side door and crossed your arms, trying to get into a comfortable position. "Gonna sleep on me?" Dean asked, briefly looking at you before looking back at the road again.
"Unfortunately, yes," you confirmed. "I just feel exhausted all of a sudden," you said.
"Want your blanket? It's still laid out from earlier," Dean said winking. You looked at him, not responding to his comment as you were too tired. Usually, you'd give him some kind of sassy remark, or tease him, but instead, you simply just leaned into the back seat, grabbing the blanket Dean had placed neatly before the two of you had sex a few hours prior.
Taking the blanket you wrapped it around yourself, and tried your best to get comfortable, but you found yourself shifting way too much. "Come here," Dean said, gesturing for you to lay down.
"You sure? Won't be distracting?" You asked.
He shook his head. "Not at all," he reassured. "Now come here. I want you to be comfortable. We got a long drive."
"Okay," you said, before shifting positions. You placed your head in Dean's lap, while the soles of your boots pressed up against the passenger side door. When you looked up briefly, your boyfriend was slightly grinning. "Comfortable?" You asked.
"I should be the one asking you that," he said, letting out a small chuckle. "But yes, I am comfortable. Are you?"
"Yeah," you replied. "Wake me up if we stop okay?"
"Sure thing Sweetheart," he said, his free hand that was currently not on the wheel started stroking your hair gently; your eyes starting to flutter closed. "Goodnight Sweetheart."
"Goodnight Dean," you smiled before feeling yourself drifting off to sleep.
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Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 @jackles010378 @mrsjenniferwinchester @syrma-sensei @k-slla @justletmereadfanfic @deans-daydream @octoberclidan If you'd like to be added to a tag list, let me know!
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sturnsdoll · 6 months
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𝘏𝘖𝘛𝘌𝘓 -`♡´- - C.S
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inspired by: this pairing: chris x ("bestfriend"!) reader summary: your bestfriend is bored at night so he comes to your hotel room. what activities will he think of to keep himself entertained?? warnings: smut w slight background, dirty talk, lots of praise, friends to lovers, dom!chris x sub!reader, fingering, swearing, cocky chris?, word count: 2700 authors note: as soon as i saw the post asking for someone to make something like this i knew i had to turn tf up. hope i did the request justice 😛 "pink" = reader speaking "orange" = chris speaking
「 ✦Hotel by montell fish ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊|• 0:10 ᯤ✦ 」
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it had been nothing short of a long day. you and the triplets had been out all day taking a road trip. you were just excited to get to the hotel with your friends and sleep. you, matt and nick were all exhausted but chris, your bestfriend, was still bursting with energy.
you and the triplets entered the hotel and let nick take care of obtaining the keys and room numbers. the plan was that you would have your own room and nick, matt and chris would share a two bed room for the night.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
matt was out no less than five minutes after all of you found your rooms and nick was practically non-verbal on his phone. chris was on the edge of the bed by nicks feet yappin' away about his day. no matter how obvious it was that nick wanted his space, chris couldn't bring himself to just be quiet.
"i just feel like-" "chris oh my god" nick interupted. this caused chris to go quiet with a look that said 'what?' on his face. oblivious. "i need you to shush motherfucker go to sleep or go bug your little girlfriend" nick complained as he rolled over.
chris glared at him for referring you his girlfriend. then after him and nick exchanged a few choice words (mainly consisting of nick telling him to shut the fuck up) chris chose to go bother you instead.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
music played at a comfortable volume in your hotel room. you set down your toothbrush and turned the tap off. about to start on your skincare, you were interupted by a knock on the door. approaching the door you were expecting it to be cleaners or something, but upon the door opening you found chris.
"hey" he hardly greeted as he let himself in past you to sit on your bed. you sighed as you closed the door and looked at him with a look that asked what he was doing bugging you at this hour. "nick kicked me out" chris half jokes as his eyes scan you quickly. he caught notice of the way the cold exposed your nipples through your tank top. his eyes went back to your eyes before you could notice him looking.
as comfortable as you were with chris, recently there had just been these moments where you were sure you were both flirting with eachother or that there was some kind of tension. you had shrugged it all off though because although your feelings for chris were more than just platonic, you knew there was no way he felt the same. however something about being alone with him made you nervous.
"so you came to annoy me instead? great" your voice was sarcastic but in a playful manner. you headed for the bathroom to finish your nightly routine. "shut up you love me" chris retorts, following you to the bathroom.
you sat up on the counter criss crossed and begun pulling serums, washcloths and cleansers from your bag. chris enjoyed watching you do everyday things like this. he came behind you, leaning forward to rest his chin on your shoulder, watching you in the mirror. his palms pressing into the counter. feeling his warm body so close to yours made you feel safe, comforted (also a little hot inside.)
you were both silent as your music filled the room. while you nurtured your face his eyes were glued to you, admiring you the entire time.
once you finished you gave chris a smile in the mirror "you know your gonna have to go back with nick and matt really soon chris i'm tired" you tried to turn around but he wrapped his arms around you from behind. embracing the hug as much as you could from this position, you leaned your head back and placed your arms on his. "but i'm bored" he complained. there was something almost mischevious in his eyes that you couldn't quite place. "but i'm tired" you said, mocking him.
his voice comes out quieter and lower next to your ear "oh i'm sure i could wake you up" there's a grin or maybe even a smirk on his face. you were sure he didn't mean anything sexual but still your face heats up and your sure that due to your bodies touching, he can feel the way your heartbeat begins racing.
you look at him with a shy smile although not knowing what to say. the song changed and the familiar start of hotel by montell fish begins to fill the hotel room.
⊹ ࣪ ˖"𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙞 𝙢𝙚𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙡 𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙢, 𝙞 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙤 𝙗𝙖𝙙 𝙣𝙚𝙬𝙨" ⊹ ࣪ ˖
an unspeakable tension grows and maybe it's your imagination but you swear a slight smirk spreads on his face. you don't realize it but it's been a minute now and you've said nothing back to him, only staring blankly back at him in the mirror.
"hm?" his voice snaps you out of your trance and you realized you've been silently staring at him for an uncomfortable amount of time. fuck. "i dunno i'm pretty tired" you panic at the way your voice comes out a little breathy. his voice drops slightly "you're tired hm?" his arms squeeze a little tighter around you "that why your hearts practically beating out of your chest?" his words mixed with his breath fanning your ear make you dizzy. you can't deny the mix of arousal and nervousness you're feeling. he's your bestfriend afterall, he knows you well enough to know exactly what's going through your mind right now.
⊹ ࣪ ˖"𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙞 𝙠𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪" ⊹ ࣪ ˖
so you decide to embrace those feelings. you pull his arms off of you and turn your body around so there's no choice but for your legs to dangle off the counter on either side of his waist. he's still not sure if your feeling how he is so to be safe, his hands rest on the counter next to the outsides of your thighs rather than touching you.
you quickly glance down his body then back up to his eyes. "that why you're hard?" you mock with a mischevious grin. for a split second he looks taken aback but then before you can tease him any further he grabs your thighs, dragging you closer to him. your thighs instinctively squeeze his waist. you gasp when his clothed erection pokes at your thin sleep shorts.
⊹ ࣪ ˖"𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙢𝙚, 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙢𝙚"⊹ ࣪ ˖
there's a moment of silence as he searches your eyes for any sign of hesitation. instead he only finds lust and need. without skipping another beat, his hand comes to the back of your head, pulling you into a passionate makeout.
your arms wrap around his neck, trying to pull him impossibly closer. you wanted him everywhere, on you, under you, in you.
his other hand gently rubs your thigh while his lips break off from yours. he takes in your already disheveled state. lips puffy, eyes glossed over with need. "so pretty" he comments right before attacking your neck with kisses filled with teeth, tongue and sucking. a gentle whine escapes you as he lifts you off the counter. and even when he lays you on the bed his lips don't leave your neck.
⊹ ࣪ ˖"𝙞 𝙠𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣' 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙡 𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙢. 𝙞 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙤 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙮𝙤𝙪"⊹ ࣪ ˖
his weight presses onto you but not suffocatingly. he subconciously ruts his hips into yours. "mm" you squirm your hips up for more but he pushes your hips back to the bed with his own. your cunt is aching to be touched in any way shape or form, so long as it's him. "chris please" your voice comes out desperate.
he completely ignored your plea but his lips do come off your neck so he can lock eyes with you. his hand slowly brushes down your side "god i bet you're soaked already" he seems as if he's speaking to himself. his fingertips brush across your hip bone now. his voice alone makes you try and close your legs to relieve some tension. with his body between them though, it's useless.
⊹ ࣪ ˖"𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙞 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪. 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙢𝙚, 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙢𝙚?"⊹ ࣪ ˖
you look at him with doe eyes, wanting nothing more than his touch right now. "chris-" you begin when suddenly he pulls the band of your panties back before letting is snap against your skin "so desperate" he teases before his hand finally slips beneath the thin material. two fingers slide up and down your soaked cunt to collect your wetness on his fingers. then his middle finger makes quick work of circling your clit.
"who made you this wet, baby?" he asks with cockiness to his tone. your head goes to the side and your eyes find anywhere to look but him. you can't believe your bestfriend is talking dirty to you, while he's on you. as you let out a whiny "you" in response. he's way too entertained with how whiny and submissive you already are for him to be thinking about how shocking the situation is for you both. "mhm." he responds. his middle finger leaves your clit only to enter you along with his ring finger. a sigh of relief leaves your lips. "now look at me" his free hand grips your jaw, forcing you to face him. your eyes still avoid his though.
his fingers begin to curl repetitevly inside of you, forcing a moan from your lips. he feels his pants tighten at your reaction. "look at me or i'll stop." his tone is gentle but still commanding. it leaves you with no choice but to meet his gaze. you take notice of how much darker the lust has turned his blue eyes.
"listen so well" he praises before his lips meet yours. hearing him talk to you like this makes every ounce of your body heat up. you're already feeling close.
⊹ ࣪ ˖"𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙡 𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙢 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙥𝙪𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙞𝙣, 𝙢𝙮 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙤𝙝𝙝, 𝙞, 𝙞 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪" ⊹ ࣪ ˖
he pushes his wrist forward and somehow, his fingers reach even deeper and his palm rubs your needy clit. your nails dig into the back of his neck "s-so good" you mutter as your eyes stare hooded and glossy up at your best (not-so) friend.
the cockiness is seeping off of him "yea? you like my fingers?" his movements speed up as he speaks. his voice mixed with his skilled hands nearly send you over the edge. he can feel the way you clench, threatning to finish any minute. for that very reason he rips your pleasure away.
⊹ ࣪ ˖"𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙢𝙚 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡, 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙞 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙢𝙮𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛, 𝙢𝙮 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚. 𝙝𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙡 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙡. 𝙤𝙤𝙝, 𝙮𝙤𝙪"⊹ ࣪ ˖
you open your mouth to protest but he speaks before you can. "m' gonna make you feel good again, don't worry" he assures as he leaves you for a second to remove his clothes. you take this as your cue and remove everything besides your bra and panties.
chris resumes his place on the perfectly white hotel sheets. his hand is gently stroking his cock as he moves between your legs. your eyes lock with it and your desperation reaches an all time high. he's not small or thin by any means.
he smirks at the way your lips are parted, eyes watching, body waiting. he uses his free hand to push your legs open further. you knew letting your bestfriend fuck you was about to change everything for the both of you, but the way your whole body ached for him drowned out all the worries you had.
⊹ ࣪ ˖"𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙄 𝙢𝙚𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙡 𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙢 𝙄 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙤 𝙗𝙖𝙙 𝙣𝙚𝙬𝙨. 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙄 𝙠𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪..." ⊹ ࣪ ˖
"you want your bestfriends cock sweetheart?" he asks staring down at you. "yes chris" your words come out impatiently. "then what do you say? hm?" you frustratedly watch the grin on his face as he taps his tip against your puffy clit just to tease you.
⊹ ࣪ ˖"𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙢𝙚, 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙢𝙚"⊹ ࣪ ˖
you sigh "please." he can tell your frustrated. "you can do better than that" he states as he drags his tip up and down your pussy, juices coating his tip now. your hips push toward him but he only pulls back. "please fuck me chris. i need you"
"good girl." he praises, his length unexpectedly shoving into you. "god so tight" he groans the praise as he pulls back, then pounding into you again. "chris!" you shout as your hands go for the sheets but chris grasps them instead. his fingers interlock with yours, pinning your arms and hands down next to your head.
he picks up a harsh pace. uncontrollable whines and moans begin spilling from your lips. as his head drops next to yours, filthy things come out of his mouth into your ear.
you're just speechless, mouth open as your eyes roll back.
⊹ ࣪ ˖"𝙞 𝙠𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣' 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙡 𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙢 𝙄 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙤 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙮𝙤𝙪"⊹ ࣪ ˖
he kisses your neck so gently, completely contradicting the roughness of how he's fucking you. "so pretty underneath me" he mumbles before his lips attatch to your neck again. you clench around him at the praise, making him groan and thrust his hips faster to chase his release as well as help you reach yours.
you whine out his name as you shut your eyes, his cock hitting the right spot everytime he thrusts his hips. one of his hands moves away from yours to slip between your bodies. his middle finger wastes no time on finding and stimulating your clit. your hips buck into his hand but with the way he's fucking you it makes no difference.
"need t-to- uh fuck" your words are cut off by a needy moan. he pulls away from your neck to look at you "what's wrong hm?" he asks with faux sympathy right before a particulary deep slam of his hips into yours, wanting to pull more of those pretty noises out of you.
⊹ ࣪ ˖"𝙞 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙤 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙮𝙤𝙪"⊹ ࣪ ˖
giving up on speaking you throw your head back, your free hand gripping his shoulder as you uncontrollably clenched around him, desperate noises coming from your lips one after the other.
"you need to cum?" he's out of breath and his pace begins to falter. you nod frantically. "go on then, cum with me" he says through his teeth as his hips twitch. one more thrust of his hips and his cum fills you up.
his hips still but he continues rubbing quick circles on your clit "come on, be a good girl and cum for me" his words are what send you over the edge. your hips lift of the bed, your mouth opens but nothing comes out. "fuck." chris mutters at the sight of you mixed with feeling of you clenching around his cock, milking him dry.
he pulls out but massages your clit a little longer, letting you work through your high before collapsing on the bed next to you. you roll on your side and he does the same, spooning you. the both of you leave nothing to be heard but deep breaths as you both smile at the experience that just occured.
⊹ ࣪ ˖"𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙄 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪"⊹ ࣪ ˖
after chris finally got himself up to clean the both of yours mess you both got dressed and took seats on the bed facing one another. there was an almost awkward silence, not surprising considering you just let your bestfriend fuck the shit out of you.
you speak first "i don't just wanna fuck" you state with a worried expression. he stares at you for a moment and you think he's about to tell you he doesn't want any kind of relationship. "is that what you want?" you were quiter and much more sheepish now. you looked like you wanted to retract into your own skin and never come out. he quickly smiled. he playfully slaps his no-longer bestfriends shoulder. "no dumbass i want you" he says before scooching closer, grabbing your hips to pull you into his lap. then placing a delicate kiss on your lips.
you smile down widely at him "great. now can we fucking sleep?" you ask exhaustedly. "yup" he responds, standing up while holding you before tossing you on the bed and climbing in next to you. ⊹ ࣪ ˖"𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡, 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙢𝙚, 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙢𝙚?"⊹ ࣪ ˖
(sorry for the stupid ending 🙏)
943 notes · View notes
kitten4sannie · 7 months
Text
ᴛᴀꜱᴛᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴠᴇɴᴏᴍ
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ꜰᴇᴀʀ ᴘʟᴀʏ/ꜰʟᴏɢɢɪɴɢ ➠ ʏᴜɴʜᴏ/ʏᴇᴏꜱᴀɴɢ
pairing: enemy emperor! yunho x empress! reader x scribe! yeosang
genre: historical au, smut
summary: you have another tension filled meeting with the stubborn man that wants nothing more than to conquer and own you. your new dedicated scribe records everything.
w.c: 4k
warnings: hard dom! yunho, bratty pillow princess! reader, bricked up witness! yeosang, monster cock alerttt, cnc, light mxm, exhibitionism/voyeurism, name calling/pet names, degradation, dirty talk (this man…he’s so nasty in this i’m not even sorry…), lots of manhandling, spanking/flogging, dacryphilia, half dressed kink idk, spit, hair grabbing, threesome elements, some cucky vibes, a little dash of praise, rough wall sex, creampie, yeosang licks everything up… AHEM, oral (receiving), fingering, cum eating, squirting
a/n: i was extremely high when i wrote this and i am down bad astronomically for yuyu and yeosang so yeah something religious happened to me during the writing process !! i mostly blame it on jackson wang bc that song is sooooo…. rfhhehwh it turns me into a rabid animal ngl anywaysss i hope you enjoy lovelies xx
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ᴄʀᴜᴇʟ ʙʏ ᴊᴀᴄᴋꜱᴏɴ ᴡᴀɴɢ
0:01 ❍─────── 4:28
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ᴘʀᴇᴠ | ꜰꜰꜰ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ
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As the empress of your country’s land, it’s always been up to you to partake in the anointed trivialities that required your royal attention. Aside from drawn out, traditional ceremonies to endless horse riding and archery lessons with a seasoned member of the congregation, you spent most of your time having meetings with your supposed suitors, having to listen to their boundless, self-important monologues about their days in battle, coming to know just how much knowledge they held in combat and war strategies, and fighting the urge to pull your hand away when they would hold onto it, pleading you with their eyes for your approval. It all bored you to tears. 
Though, there was a particular individual that you couldn’t seem to keep your mind off of, no matter how hard you tried. Jeong Yunho, an emperor from the land that bordered yours. A man from a bloodline that your family had gone to war with many times over the years. Despite that you were quite literally sleeping with the enemy, you couldn’t help yourself. You had never met anyone like him before. Instead of asking and pleading for your attention, time, and body, he simply took it. Took what he wanted from you without a care in the world. He wasn’t even bothered by that fact that your dear scribe still sat in the meeting room with you, hazily scribbling down everything that occurred and what was said, spilling bottles of ink onto his scrolls due to how flustered he was from witnessing the way Yunho forcefully conquered his dear empress with a domineering smirk plastered on his sweaty face, the panting emperor’s cock routinely disappearing underneath your disheveled ceremony garments and into your willing cunt. 
“Your Highness, Lord Jeong should be here any second now,” your fresh-faced scribe began from across the meeting room, setting up various sized brushes in a line, smoothing out a few creases he found embedded in the elongated sleeves of his ceremony robe. He suddenly looked up at you, concern present within his widened honey brown eyes. “Should I make more tea?” 
“That won’t be necessary, Yeosang, but your intention is very sweet, thank you,” you replied softly, making your way across the room in your heavy garbs, taking the time to run your fingers through your newest scribe’s hair, offering him a smile that made him drop one of his brushes. “Lord Jeong doesn’t drink much tea. He…prefers to get straight to business.” 
Yeosang’s smile dropped slightly when your hand left his hair, his eyes traveling your form as you sat on your knees in front of the meeting table, watching you take a sip from your steaming celadon cup and nod your head in approval of the flavor. “Have you considered his marriage requests? I’ve read some of the letters he’s sent to you…” The young scribe blushed suddenly, his eyes lowering to look at the blank spaces on his scrolls. “They’re quite intense. Does that sort of thing interest you?” 
You rested your chin inside the palm of your hand, your gold bracelets dangling from your wrist, squinting your eyes at Yeosang, your lips curling up ever so slightly. “It does, very much so. Lord Jeong is one of the most interesting men I’ve come across thus far…I’ve greatly considered his offers, despite him being the enemy.” 
Yeosang tilted his head, a few locks of his hair falling into his focused eyes. “If I may ask, your Highness…What’s stopping you from accepting?” 
You ran your finger around the rim of your celadon cup, looking at your reflection within the black tea, your smile fading. “I don’t want the excitement to end, Yeosang.” You looked back up at him, unable to keep yourself from smiling gently at his confused expression. “Marriage, as beautiful as it is, brings monotony, which brings contempt…” 
“Ahh, I see now,” Yeosang nodded slowly, giving you a sad smile back, feeling like he understood his empress a bit more in that moment. He squeezed his fingers around the intricately carved wooden brush inside his grasp.  “Your Highness, may I ask you a question?” 
Just as you were about to respond, the large, jewel-encrusted doors of your meeting room opened with a groan. A tall, handsome man dressed in an extravagant, hand-sewn traditional robe came strolling in like he owned the place, holding an expensive mahogany box within his large hands. 
“Oh, princess, I’ve brought you a present,” Yunho called out teasingly, walking up to the table. He acknowledged Yeosang’s presence with a nod, who bent over to bow. The confident emperor sat down across from you at the table, his eyes hooded, his lips quirked up perversely as if he was reminiscing about your previous meetings. “Hi. Did you miss me?” 
You rolled your eyes, pretending as if you didn’t care about the emperor’s arrival, despite your heart and core throbbing rhythmically from him simply sitting there across from you. “What did you bring me, Yunho?” 
“Something that’ll have your little scribe here pulling at his robes when I’m done using it on you…Maybe he’ll even spill his ink all over himself like your last one…” Yunho’s eyes shifted from Yeosang, who gulped, to you, who simply sipped on your tea, his long fingers rubbing along the smooth edges of the mahogany box. 
You tilted your head to the side, idly biting at the tip of your manicured nail. “Is that so? Well, get on with it. I’m a busy woman, as you know, and I don’t like when my time is being wasted with nonsense.” 
Yunho simply scoffed, shaking his head slightly, sitting there silently for a moment, the only sound in the room being Yeosang’s wet brush expertly sliding across the scroll and your nails tapping against your tea cup. 
All you registered was the sight of Yunho swiftly getting up onto his feet and heading in your direction, his feet thumping against the mat below. Before you even realized what was happening, you were laying face down on the table, watching your tea pool out onto the sleek wood, your intricately crafted tea cup now split in individual pieces. Yunho had you held down by the neck, his fingers closing around it, his warm body pressing against yours, able to feel his stiff cock against your ass, even through your thick robes. 
He chuckled at the gasp you let out, bringing his lips near your ear to purr huskily, “Am I still wasting your time, princess? Or is getting your little cunt all nice and wet for me something worthwhile?” Instead of letting you answer, Yunho simply reached past you, flipping the boxe’s lid open, bringing it closer for you to take a good look at its contents. Inside the box sat a hand-woven flog, the edges of it decorated with a silver finishing, making it glisten in the light. “Do you like your present? I got it made just for you.” He rubbed his cock along your ass, his free hand roaming over your upper thigh to the curve of your ass. “Can’t you see? I’m in love with you…” 
“Oh, please.” As you tried to get up, Yunho pushed his body weight down onto you, holding your wrists down with ease. “Do you really think I’m going to let you use your little toy on me in front of my innocent scribe, Yunho? Who do you think you are?” 
“I’m simply a man who’s head over heels for you, Y/N…Take some responsibility…” Yunho quickly reached past your neck and down to your chest to rip open your garments, tugging on them while you continued to resist until your bare body was revealed underneath the many layers.
Yeosang dipped his brush inside the bottle of ink with a shaky hand, his cheeks flushed, unsure if he should speak up, his eyes fixated on you, never having seen you in such an indecent state before. “Sh-should…I keep going, your Highness?” 
When Yunho forcefully bent you over his knee and pulled your disheveled robe up to reveal your ass, his large hands squeezing into it, you nodded your head weakly at Yeosang, feeling a bit dizzy from being treated in such a way with your lovely dedicated scribe watching on. “Please, don’t let us stop you from doing your job, Yeosang…you’re doing so well…”  
“Thank you, Your Highness…” Yeosang blushed from the praise, dipping his brush back into the ink, before pressing it to the scroll, thankful that his garments were thick enough to cover his stiffening length.
You weren’t able to reply to Yeosang when Yunho abruptly slammed his open palm against the curve of your ass, a moan leaving your lips instead of words. He smacked the other side of your ass to watch it bounce and groped along it, squeezing your sensitive flesh between his slender fingers. “That’s it…just look at that color…Wish you could see it, princess. Shall I add some pretty shades of purple and pink too? You’re my canvas, Y/N…I’m sure you’ll let me paint you with my cum next, right? Just like every time, yeah?” 
“Fuck off, Yunho,” you grumbled, attempting to climb out of his lap, throbbing at the feeling of him grabbing you by the waist and holding you still, knowing you couldn’t get away even if you tried. 
“You weren’t saying that last time, princess. You were begging me for more…” Yunho picked up the flog, running his fingers along the woven leather, before he cracked it in the air, making Yeosang and you jolt from the sudden loud noise, bringing joy to the emperor. “Take a deep breath for me, Y/N…” 
Just as you did so, Yunho brought the flog down onto your ass, watching the individual leather straps leave pretty red marks on your skin, groaning, “So pretty… you’re so pretty for me, princess…” and repeating the motion, lacking the proper self control to stop himself, even when you began to cry, his arm wrapped tightly around your middle. 
“F-fuck…! Stop!” You kicked your legs and thrashed around until you were able to wiggle out of his grasp, just barely making it over to Yeosang’s large scribing table, before Yunho slammed you down onto it, knocking over one of the ink bottles with his rough handling of you. 
“Crying just for me, princess? You’re making me so hard,” Yunho sighed into your ear, moving closer to your face to lick one of your tears away, his hot breath hitting your cheek, your ass stinging more when he grabbed it roughly, bolts of pleasure shooting into your core. 
 “You fucking asshole…” you choked out, about to pull yourself up when the emperor pinned your hands painfully behind your back, feeling his knee press in between your thighs. 
Yunho tugged more of your garments off without a care in the world, huffing and as he shoved his hand in between your thighs from behind, rubbing two fingers along your clothed cunt, before tearing it off with ease. “Ahh, that’s what I thought…You’re so wet for me, Y/N.” He looked to Yeosang, who was blushing wildly, still just sitting there and haphazardly recording the chaos that was occurring right next to him, knowing it wasn’t his place to interact in any way unless either of you allowed him to. Yunho continued to rub at your cunt, enjoying the noises you and your gushing slit were making. “Hey, scribe, make sure you make a note about how fucking soaked your empress gets from getting manhandled by an enemy emperor. That’s an important detail, isn’t it, princess?” 
You struggled underneath the man, starting to feel ink soaking into your expensive garments, some of it staining your cheek. “Yunho, get off of me, or so help me–” You suddenly found yourself gasping for air, having been flogged again, though this time some of the leather straps reached your cunt, feeling it sting pleasurably in between your trembling thighs. 
Yunho looked over to Yeosang, who had his fingers clenched around his brush, his free hand in between his clenching thighs. “Hey, Yeosang, do you know why the previous scribe quit?” When he shook his head, Yunho grinned, admiring the pattern of bruises he left on your ass, running his fingers lightly over them. “He couldn’t handle watching his beloved empress cry and take what I so graciously gave her, but you can, can’t you, Yeosang?” 
He bit his bottom lip, feeling conflicted, not sure if he should nod or not. He instead looked to you, his eyebrows knitted together with concern. “Your Highness…” Yeosang whispered softly, hesitantly placing one hand on top of yours, holding it tightly. 
You looked up at him, smiling gently, blowing a bit of hair out of your hazy eyes, reaching your other hand over to rub the top of his knuckles. “It’s okay, Yeosang…I want this…” 
Yunho grabbed you by the hair, forcefully lifting up your head so that he could get a good look at you, practically drooling at this point, his cock throbbing against your backside. “Say that again…Let me hear it…” 
You turned your head to look at him, smiling sweetly, before you pursed your lips and sent a wad of spit onto his cheek, satisfied with the way it dripped down along his tightening jaw. “If you hurry up and fuck me instead of continuing on with this bullshit, I’ll think about it.” 
Turned on beyond measure, Yunho grabbed your own jaw, forcing it open so that he could send a wad of spit straight down your throat, chuckling darkly at the moan that escaped your parted lips. “This is why you’re my favorite, princess. You’re such a bratty little thing, just aching to be put in your place, huh? You want me to do that? Fuck you into submission in front of your sweet little scribe? Just say the word….” 
This time around, Yunho could see the desperation on your flushed face, your lips forming a pout. “Please…” you whined, surprising yourself and the two men watching you with your sudden act of obedience. 
“Oh my god, that’s fucking it right there…” Yunho groaned, pulling at the sash wrapped securely around his slim waist and pulling it loose, so that he could gain access to his undergarments, quickly tugging his stiff, leaking cock out. “Do you draw portraits too, scribe? This slut’s pretty face should be kept in the history books…” 
Yeosang nervously shook his head, starting to spread the ink across his scroll from watching the way Yunho pushed you up against the wall, so close to Yeosang that his garments spilled into his lap, forcefully wrapping your legs around his waist, just as he fully sheathed himself inside you, your soaked panties pushed to the side.
“No? That’s too bad…Well, at least jot down the fact that I conquer your Highness’s tight little cunt every time I give her a visit…” Yunho huffed out, smiling at you with his canines showing, his hands cemented tightly around your bare waist, bringing himself down to one of your tits to suck it into his open mouth. 
“God, will you just–aaah–shut the fuck up and…nnngh…fuck me properly?” you asked in between pants, barely able to take the emperor’s thick, oversized cock without feeling like you were going to break, your nails digging into his straining upper back through his garments, one side of his robe starting to drape off one of his broad shoulders. 
“Yeah? You want it rough just like every other time, don’t you, whore?” Yunho groaned against your skin, dragging his tongue up over your spit-laced tit to attack your neck with his lips and teeth, leaving your skin in various shades of red and purple. “Write this down too, scribe. The people should know that this pretty princess can’t cum unless she has a horsecock ramming into her cunt. Isn’t that right, Your Highness?”  
You couldn’t even speak at this point, from the way Yunho lifted one leg up onto the scribe table, using the leverage to fuck into you as deep and hard as he could, about to cream yourself from the way he kept you pinned down, just using you like a doll made for his pleasure. 
Now almost directly underneath his empress and the enemy emperor’s rapidly joining bodies, Yeosang couldn’t help but look up, fixated on the way your cunt spread open each time Yunho slammed himself inside your clenching hole, feeling a few drops of your mixed arousal drip down onto his face and roll down his warm cheek. He gingerly opened his mouth and held his tongue out, now pressing his brush directly into the soaked paper, leaning his back against the wall behind him, his hand beginning to rub at his pre-cum soaked cock that was still trapped underneath his heavy garments. 
“God, you’re so fucking wet, princess…I think I might…slip out…” Yunho sighed heavily against your ear, roughly nibbling it with the aid of one of his canine teeth, slowly sliding his cock out of you and slapping his heavy cock against your abdomen, smearing his pre cum onto your skin. 
The feeling of being completely empty just as you were about to cum almost sent you into a full-blown rage, practically ready to start another war with Yunho if he didn’t stick his cock back inside you. You abruptly grabbed him by the hair, clutching a tuft of his damp icy blond locks, leaning in so that your lips ghosted his. “Fuck me, you goddamn bastard. Make me cum.” 
This time Yunho didn’t play any games, simply rubbing his cockhead back and forth over your throbbing clit just to make you shudder against him, before he slipped back inside, immediately pounding himself into you, essentially leaving you breathless. “Look at you just taking it, princess… I know it’s big…You’re doing so well for me…taking it so good, princess…I’m so proud…” 
The sudden bout of praise coming from the enemy in such a sickly sweet tone, especially while he began to pump hot loads of cum into you, sent you barreling over the edge, not doing your dear scribe any favors when you began to babble nonsensically, tears beginning to fall from your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure taking over your body. 
“Yeahhh, take it, princess…I’m gonna knock you up so you have to marry me.” Yunho chuckled darkly, his fingers squeezing into your hips, pressing a rough kiss to your lips, biting at your bottom lip before he pulled away. 
“You’re disgusting,” you huffed, grimacing at him, despite the fact that your thighs were still trembling. 
“Don’t say that, princess,” Yunho whined, leaning his forehead against yours, slowly pulling out inch by inch. “You know how hard that makes me…” He looked down to Yeosang, who was breathing heavily underneath the both of you, his mouth agape, splashes of arousal decorating his pretty, flushed face and damp hair. “Hey, scribe, you’ve been a good boy just sitting here and watching the whole time. You want a taste of your Highness’s used cunt?” 
Feeling sufficiently dizzy, Yeosang looked to you for approval, feeling his cock pulse at your slow dazed nod, bringing his hands up to your thighs to caress them, bringing his lips up to kiss and lick at the wetness around your cunt with a gentleness that would’ve had you collapsing if your legs weren’t securely hooked over Yunho’s shoulders. 
“Make sure you get it all…” Yunho murmured softly, completely pulling out of you with a wet, shlick sound, dribbles of his cum beginning to gush out of your gaping hole, allowing Yeosang to collect it inside his drooling mouth. Yunho brought a free hand to Yeosang’s head, holding him against your cunt, finding great joy in the desperate, sloppy manner in which he ate you out, like a delirious, thirsty man that had just found a hidden oasis. 
It was when Yeosang slipped his slender fingers deep inside your pulsing cunt, his hot mouth closed around your sensitive clit, that you began to whine and whimper, one arm hooked around Yunho’s neck for support, your free hand going down to grab onto Yeosang’s hair when Yunho let go, gazing down to find him already looking up at you with half closed eyes. 
“It’s so good, you’re so good for me, Yeosang, I’m going to…oh my god…”  
Yeosang clutched one side of your bruised ass with one hand, curling three of his fingers inside you and rubbing them against your clenching walls, lapping at your clit, his thighs closing together, his cheeks bright red from the praise. 
All the while, Yunho simply watched on, his chest swelling with pride, occasionally leaving kisses and licks on your straining, marked-up neck. “Cum for him, will you, princess? Won’t you soak his pretty face with your squirt?” 
Having your lovely scribe in between your legs, eating your cunt like it was his assigned job to do so, having your sworn enemy pressing his heated, sweaty body against yours, more filthy words leaving his lips for your shared pleasure was all far too much. “Yeosang…!” 
Yeosang found himself being covered in a warm spray of liquid, tasting your squirt on his tongue, closing his eyes for a moment to bask in the pleasure of it all, opening them back up just in time for you to pull him into your arms, your bare body against his half-dressed one. “Your Highness…” 
“I didn’t mean to do such a dirty thing to you, Yeosang, I’m so sorry…” You used your sleeves to wipe some of the wetness away from his face, blushing more than you had during the whole night. 
“Your Highness…” he repeated, softer this time, giving you a shy smile, pulling his robe apart until you could see what he had done to himself. 
Your eyes widened at the milky stains of cum splattered across the insides of his ceremonial garments, looking back up into his eyes, returning his shy smile. “If I had known you had such an affinity for me, I wouldn’t have looked for suitors this long. Who needs them when I have you?” 
Yeosang reached up to hold his heated cheeks, dumbfounded by the string of events, unable to believe that his beloved empress could feel such a way about him. “It’d be an honor to always be by your side…”
You giggled, reaching up to place a hand over his, your thumb brushing over his pretty birthmark. 
Yunho cleared his throat, running his fingers through his sweaty hair, his robe already wrapped ornately around his body, looking like he did when he first entered the meeting room, besides the afterglow he was now sporting. “I’d love to stay here longer and experience this beautiful moment with you both, but my job here is done.” He patted both of your heads, as if he were a proud father, before heading taking a few elegant strides towards the door. Before he left, he turned back to look at you, his tongue poking into one of his canine teeth, giving you a shit-eating smirk. “Until next time, princess.” 
“There isn’t going to be a next time,” you muttered to yourself, rolling your eyes, your arms still around Yeosang, watching your smug enemy leave the room with a soft chuckle. 
Yeosang chuckled softly, reaching up to run his fingers through your hair, feeling confident enough to share his thoughts with you. “Now, let’s not kid ourselves, Your Highness.” 
“Heyyy,” you whined, giving him a pout, watching him pick up his drying brush up from the table. “Don’t you dare write that down.” When he motioned to dip his brush into the spilled ink, you hugged onto him from the side. “Yeosangggg, I’m still your empress!”
Biting the inside of your cheek, you rested your chin on his shoulder. “By the way, what was that question you wanted to ask me?”
Yeosang gulped, studying the ink-stained table below for a second, before turning his head to look at you, your faces just centimeters away from one another. “Will you replace me one day, Your Highness?”
Your eyes widened slightly, taking in your scribe’s vulnerability, wanting to return the same energy to him, as he was deserving of it. “Never, Yeosang. You’re here to stay.”
Yeosang blushed fervently, dropping the brush back down to hug you into his arms, nuzzling your neck gently, his hair tickling your skin, about to melt inside his empress’s grasp. “Promise?” 
You wrapped your arms tighter around him, pressing your lips to his cheek, waiting for him to look back into your eyes to whisper, “Promise.”
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jals-stuff · 6 months
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Some Rayne brainrot...
this is some stupid (and a bit horny??? no? yes? i don't know) stuff that went through my mind last night
MDNI PLEASE! this spawned in my head, no context
warnings: female reader, rayne is ooc and pervy, he is staring, dubcon (bit steamy at the end), bit of swearing, bit of horniness, mentions of boobies and peen...
i am very sorry, i wrote this with 0 hours of sleep. barely proofread. enjoy
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Rayne Ames. The Divine Visionary, the Sword Cane.
If you watch animal documentaries, you are probably aware that cheetahs can stay in the same position for up to sixteen hours without moving at all…
Well, it so happens that Rayne’s facial expression is like a cheetah. He somehow always looks like you’ve told him a really bad pun, and he’s judging you for it (not funny, did not laugh). He probably even has this face on while he sleeps, eats, showers, and probably even while he decides to please himself. 
And yet, despite looking annoyed every second of the day, despite looking like the unfriendliest guy in the whole Academy, he looks absolutely stunning. Anyone would agree that Rayne Ames is a feast on the eyes. And you, as his seatmate in class, aren’t one to deny this.
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It was your last class hour for today and you couldn’t wait to go back to your dorm room and rot in bed like the absolute lazybone you were. Changing out of your uniform was now an emergency, as the shirt you had picked today was somehow way too tight for you.
Being clueless with basic things such as laundry had its pros and cons. Sure, your clothes were smaller now and you could barely fit; but it made you look incredibly sexy! …or so you kept telling yourself. Maybe you were just trying to cope with the fact that you were incredibly bad at basic human tasks.
You made your way to the classroom and got your notebook out. 
Today’s subject was pure theory, and you would’ve fallen asleep if you didn’t have the most scrumptious distraction sitting right next to you. You spent the hour doodling, taking notes whenever you paid enough attention to do so, and mostly throwing quick glances at your seatmate, Rayne, who was way too focused on the soporific theoretical experiments your elderly professor was passionately explaining, to pay attention to you.
When the old man turned around to write something on the blackboard, Rayne finally turned a fraction of his attention towards you. Of course, this happened during the minuscule amount of time you weren’t looking at him, and he took notice of a few things.
First of all, your notes were an absolute mess. Instead of trying to keep them consistent, you had picked a few words the teacher said, and chose to throw them into an adventure with other words, picked at different moments during class, resulting in an abomination that wouldn’t make sense, even to you. But you wouldn’t know, of course, since you never read your notes anyway. 
He would give you bonus points for the adorable little bunnies you had been doodling for the majority of your time in class, though.
Secondly, you seemed like you were about to sleep, but given the way you were taking notes, everything sort of made sense. Not your notes though, only the fact that you weren’t invested enough to stay awake.
Third of all, your shirt. He wished his eyes hadn’t lingered for such a long time on it. Why was it so tight? “Is she so dumb she can’t even do laundry?”, he wondered to distract himself from the fact that the button that kept your shirt closed around the chest area had the strength of a thousand lions. 
His eyes moved back to your face, and at this very moment, you chose to look at him. Your eyes met, and his expression was, as always, unreadable. Was he bored? Upset? Annoyed? At this point you were pretty sure he didn’t know any better. But it seemed a bit different this time, you could’ve sworn you saw his lower lid twitching slightly. 
You decided to turn your attention back to the teacher— or at least pretend to, for a while, and it lasted for a whopping fifty seconds. Efforts had been made! You deemed yourself deserving of a little treat, and an attempt was made to look at Rayne once again.
His eyes were still on you. Now it really felt like he was upset. You were used to his icy glare but it was getting a little uncomfortable, and so, as one does, you had a great shitty idea. You decided that stretching your back could maybe help you release some of this discomfort, and your button, may it rest in peace, gave up on its sole task of keeping your shirt closed. 
You couldn’t tell where it went at all. In fact, you didn’t even notice, but you did feel a little more comfortable now that your chest area was no longer being compressed, except it was in a literal meaning now, and not just figuratively speaking. You could still feel Rayne’s eyes on you, and decided that you wouldn’t look at him for the rest of this oh so boring class.
What you hadn’t noticed was that his eyes were no longer on your face, but rather on the missing button’s previous spot. “Is she so dumb she can’t take care of her clothing?”, he wondered to distract himself from the fact that he could now clearly see your bra. 
He could see that one mesmerising spot where your breasts were pushing in a wondrous effort to get out of their insufferable lace prison. In fact, pretty much anyone could’ve seen it if they had turned around, but it seemed this professor was either hypnotic or soporific because everyone was staring in his direction. 
You were then blissfully unaware of the fact that Rayne was now leading an internal battle. He had to get his eyes off of your cleavage, for your breasts were not the only things screaming for freedom anymore. Ah, perhaps Rayne was also bad at laundry, because his pants felt increasingly tight the longer he stared at you.
Divine Visionary or not, he was but a man, and what power does a man hold when presented with sweet bosoms? None. That’s right. He tried to think about anything else. Rabbits? His little brother, Finn? The concerning relationship Lance had with his little sister? The way alcoholism thrived amongst the ranks of the State police? No matter what went through his head, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.
He had to do something about it, and you were probably not escaping this one.
.....................................................................
As soon as the bell rang, he closed his coat as much as he could, and grabbed your arm before you could leave, and this time you could tell he was pretty upset. Why? How could you know? You didn’t know anything. Had your head not been attached to your shoulders, you would’ve probably lost it already. 
Instead of giving you any sort of explanation, he immediately dragged you with him. Your life felt like a movie that was playing in front of your eyes. My time has come, you thought, but… not quite.
You found yourself in Rayne’s dorm room, locked in with him. His roommate wasn’t there, and it was clear this crime would leave no witnesses. 
It took him half a second to remove his coat and— oh. You were suddenly in Egypt.
Everything was there: the stone hard pyramid, the Sphinx (that seemed ready to pounce on you), and the heat. Oh boy, the heat. As a very refined lady (yes you are), you brought your hand to your chest in indignation, and oh, how distraught you felt when you realised that your beloved chest button was nowhere to be seen. It was all starting to make sense.
Without a word, he pushed you against the wall and his lips met yours in a rough, steamy kiss. Your whole body felt like it was on fire; his toned chest was pressing against yours and breaking your buttons further, his clothed erection was slightly rubbing against your clit through your panties and his hands roamed your body hungrily while his tongue left no corner of your mouth unexplored.
It was all a lot to take in but it felt so intoxicating, the way his large hands held onto your hips to keep you from squirming too much underneath his passionate touch, and how his teeth were grazing against your lips while a mixture of both your salivas dripped from the corner of your mouth. 
His body was grinding against yours like waves on the beach, and both your breathings were becoming increasingly noisy. Only after long, delicious minutes of this make-out session did he break the kiss, panting for air, as he looked into your eyes with a lustful gaze you were now used to seeing.
It wasn't your first time pushing his buttons like this, and it certainly wasn't your last.
“You did it on purpose, admit it.”
Whaaat, you? Pfffft, never! But… let’s just say you’re not usually that bad at doing your laundry.
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smol reminder that i am very bored and i also take requests for mashle, hsr, genshin, jjk, elsword, tower of fantasy...
xoxo
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andreafmn · 1 year
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Ours | Derek Hale Oneshot
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Word Count: 3.5K Requested by @gracelynn318: "Derek or Stiles finding out that their significant other (the reader) is pregnant and they try to keep it secret for as long as possible" Warnings: pregnancy, pregnancy symptoms (vomiting, nausea, fatigue)
Summary: Derek Hale and (Y/N) have been together for a long time, and they didn't know something was missing from their lives until it arrived unexpectedly. And all they want to do is revel in the moment for as long as they can, by themselves.
A/N: this story follows 0% of canon, just the character's names. will admit. I am a horrible Teen Wolf fan that has yet to see season 5 and 6, and I've also yet to watch the movie. So, definitely an AU 😬also, be on the lookout for tonight or tomorrow for another surprise regarding this request 😉😉
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Derek had noticed the change long before (Y/N) had. Long before she knew why she spent her days expelling her meals down the toilet drain, before she understood why her body craved more food than she could keep down, before she had even noticed that a month had passed and her period had not arrived. 
It came late at night. The soft putter of a heartbeat that felt so far that it could have been confused with the sound of rain against the pavement. They had been lying in bed, the exhaustion of living in Beacon Hills the only thing they needed to crash at night. But the sound had been bothering Derek. The continuous rhythm didn’t allow the wolf to lose himself in much-needed slumber. The sound kept him up, especially from where it was coming from. 
“(Y/N),” he whispered, running his hand up and down her arm to wake her. “(Y/N), baby, wake up.” 
“Mm,” she groaned groggily, cuddling to his body tightly. “Go to sleep, Derek.” 
 “(Y/N), I gotta ask you something. Wake up.” 
“We can talk in the morning,” she whined. “I’m tired right now.” 
“It’s important,” he chuckled softly. “I need your complete focus.” 
With a loud exhale, (Y/N) sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. The sheet fell from her torso, and the coldness of the night made her skin erupt in goosebumps. She rarely got angry with Derek, but she was coming quite close at that very moment. “You better have a good reason to wake me, Der,” she said. “I’m so tired I might just put off killing you until tomorrow.” 
“Listen, please,” he said. “When was the last time you got your period?” 
“What?” the girl questioned. “You seriously just woke me up to ask about my cycle?” 
“More or less. Just answer. Did you get it last month?” 
It took her a moment to think. The grogginess of being woken up still clutched her mind, and recounting the past weeks was hard. But her body startled awake as she realized she had not gotten her shark week in a month and a half. That fact alone did not scare her. She had always been irregular, and in moments of stress, it was more likely than not that she skipped a cycle. The problem was that not only had she missed a period, she had been feeling sick for the past three weeks. And the math was not too hard to do. 
“I-I didn’t,” she stammered. “W-why are you asking?”
“Oh my god,” he answered. “Oh my god!” 
“What? What’s wrong?” 
Instead of answering, Derek pressed his ear to her stomach until he could hear the sound clearly. Alongside (Y/N)’s quickening heartbeat, a quieter, steady pattern joined. It was too indistinguishable now. “You’re pregnant,” he said. So quiet he wasn’t sure if he had said it at all. “There’s a baby in there. Our baby.” 
“Pregnant…” (Y/N) could not believe the word even as it rolled out of her tongue. “I can’t believe it.” 
“We’ll go to Deaton tomorrow, but I’m certain. I can hear their heart beating in there.” 
(Y/N)’s mind was reeling. Pregnant, she thought to herself. The word felt foreign. So did her body. Derek had noticed the change before her. How could she not have known that a life was growing inside her? How could she ever be a mother when she did not even know herself?  
Without realizing it, tears fell down her cheeks. She felt weak and panicked. The strong woman that had faced the biggest dangers and far scarier monsters trembled with the thought of a life depending on her for survival. It was one thing to volunteer to protect the members of the pack. They were old enough to fend for themselves. It was another to be responsible for the life and survival of another human. 
“Hey,” Derek called. His voice sounded like it was underwater. So far away that she could barely hear it. “Baby, what’s going on?” 
She hadn’t noticed that she had stood from the bed and was pacing around their room. Her breathing was shallow, and her chest heaved as she took in short breaths, trying to steady herself. Tears kept falling faster than she could wipe them away. They warmed her cheeks before the air turned them cold. It was the only thing that grounded her. 
And Derek. Always Derek. 
He had gotten off the bed, and within a second, he was wrapping his arms around her. The warmth from his skin calmed her. It brought her senses back to the moment, steadying her rampant heart. 
“What’s wrong, (Y/N)?” he spoke into the crook of her neck. “Tell me what I can do to make it better.”  
“I’m scared, Derek,” she sighed, tightening her grip around him. “A baby. Here. Now.”  
“Why not here?” Derek smiled, his hands running through her hair. “Why not now? With you as their mother, that baby could be born underground, and they would be the luckiest child in the world.” 
“How could you be so sure?” (Y/N) cried. “I forget things all the time, I’m clumsy, I can barely redeem myself when it comes to fighting. If it weren’t for my weapons, I wouldn’t bring much to the fight against our enemies. What good would I be to protect a child? How could I be entrusted with their entire upbringing?” 
“Oh, (Y/N). You’re far more valuable than what you bring to a fight.” His hands cradled her face, the green of his eyes boring into hers. “You are the most caring person I know. If it weren’t for you, I would have killed half of the pack by now. You’re smart. You’re funny. And if anyone should be terrified of becoming a parent, it should be me.” 
“Come on,” she scoffed jokingly, her tears finally subsiding. “You’d be an amazing father. Temperamental, but great nonetheless.” 
“Well, I’m glad it at least got you laughing,” he grinned. “How about we just take this one day at a time, baby? Make sure we take things slow. Tell people on our own time. Instead of going to the doctor, we buy a pregnancy test at the pharmacy; confirm what I already know.” 
“But if you can hear the heartbeat, I am sure all the other wolves will, too,” she worried. “How am I supposed to take things as they come when everyone will know the second they come here?” 
“Then, I won’t let anyone back here,” he smiled. “I’ll have them meet me at the warehouse or at Argent’s place. We can say you’re sick with something and won’t be there. Or that you went to visit family out of state –I don’t know. The point is, we can do this, baby. I know we can.” 
“Well, I do admire your tenacity,” she chuckled, kissing his lips softly and hugging him again. “One day at a time, right?” 
“One day at a time.” 
And it worked. For two months, at least. 
That very morning, he went out and returned home with five pregnancy tests and a bouquet of flowers. And five minutes later, they all showed an array of dark pink plus signs and the word Pregnant on them. Just like that, it had been confirmed. A new baby Hale would be coming to Beacon Hills in eight months. 
They were excited. Of course, they were. But they couldn’t help the terror that overtook them as well. Bringing a new life into their world was a scary thought. The fact that anyone with knowledge of their child could use them against them was terrifying. Still, they wanted that baby more than anything they had wanted before. 
The child that grew inside of (Y/N) was the tangible representation of their love. Evidence that everything life had thrown at them had not been able to push them apart, not for a second. They had been through hell and back, always together, and they had come out of every single occasion stronger than before. That baby was the final piece to their equation. 
The next day, they went to the first available OB/GYN about an hour from the town. The doctor confirmed what they already knew, adding the new fact that she was around seven weeks along. The process was more than uncomfortable, but the result was well worth it. A tiny blob appeared on the screen, and the sound of a rapid heartbeat filled their ears. It made tears well up in their eyes. That tiny thing would soon turn into their baby. And even though it didn’t even have a distinguishable shape, they had fallen in love with them. 
At first, they thought they would pass the first trimester in bliss. That they would only grow more and more excited as the days passed. And they would have. Had it not been for all the symptoms that overtook (Y/N). 
She spent most of her day hunched over the toilet seat, emptying whatever was in her stomach. Even when she thought she could keep food down, an hour or two later, she would be in the bathroom letting it out. And if she wasn’t vomiting, she was ransacked with deep waves of nausea. Then, her breasts started to swell, painful jabs running through her every few days. In addition to heartburn and fatigue, it made her question just how worth it a baby could be. 
But Derek had been attentive as ever, if not a little overbearing. He had kept his promise of moving where the meetings were held, claiming that the loft was under renovation while (Y/N) was out of town for a bit. It wasn’t a complete lie, though. He used his downtime to clean up around the house and fix things he had put off for far too long. 
He fed her saltine crackers and electrolyte drinks, rubbed her back, and held her hair, and he loved her. Every day and every night, he loved her. Even when he had to stay up cleaning the bathroom or he had to carry her back to bed. He loved her through everything. 
“You did this to me,” she had groaned one day. “All I want is to eat chips and pickles, but I can’t keep anything down.”
“I know, and I’m sorry,” he responded, drawing circles on her back as he cradled her body in the bathroom. “Hopefully, in a week, it’ll subside. You’re almost out of the first trimester, and the morning sickness should get better.”
“Stop reading pregnancy books,” she whined. “By the time this bun is fully baked, you’ll know more than me.” 
“Isn’t that a good thing?” Derek chuckled but swallowed his laughter as (Y/N) gifted him an angry scowl. “Okay, okay. I think the ten books I’ve read will do.”
(Y/N) remained quiet and threw her head against his chest. His arms snaked around her body, a comfort she allowed herself to sink into. The warmth from his body felt nice against her shivering skin. But just his presence was enough to comfort her, regardless of the words she spoke. 
“I’m sorry I’ve been snappy these past few days,” she sighed. Her eyes closed as he wrapped his arms tighter around her, her head falling against his chest. “I love this baby, and I love you, but I don’t love puking all the time. And peeing all the time. And being tired all the time. I want to fast forward to the next few months.” 
“Hey, you can be snappy with me all you want. I can take it,” he said with a smile. “I will be right here every step of the way because I love you. More than you could ever know.” 
“Even when I’m all big and bloated?” (Y/N) chuckled, her hands falling onto the growing small bump. “They're already trying to deform my body.” 
“Well, at least you’re glowing.”
“No,” she sighed. “That’s just sweat.”
“Then you look beautiful covered in sweat,” he laughed. “Now, let’s get you to bed. Alright?” 
(Y/N) could only nod and wrap her arms around his neck as he carried her back to bed, laying right next to her. Even if he couldn’t take this discomfort away, he was trying his best to make things better for her. 
Another week passed, and things started to shift. The woman would only occasionally feel the need to throw up her food, but the constant nausea and heartburn had subsided. And once (Y/N) saw her baby's small fingers and feet in their 12-week ultrasound, she knew it had all been worth it. 
She also knew they couldn’t keep the secret to themselves any longer. 
The pack had become angsty. Wondering when (Y/N) would be coming back from her supposed trip. Two and a half months was far too long to just be with family. With no imminent danger in sight, they had too much time to check up on everyone else. 
“I think it’s time we tell them,” (Y/N) told Derek as they watched a movie. She cradled her small bump, something she had unconsciously started to do. “We’re almost at the five-month mark, and I think it’ll be too hard to hide.”
“Do we really?” he groaned. “I can just keep you hidden here until the nine months are up. They don’t have to know a thing.”
“You would really keep the mother of your child sequestered in these walls until I give birth?”
“Maybe even more,” he shrugged. “Maybe I’ll keep you here forever.”
“You’re quite funny, Mr. Hale,” she chuckled. “But they are our friends —our family. They deserve to know there’s one more person to protect.”
“I’ve just really liked this time,” he sighed. His chin rested on her shoulder, his beard tickling her exposed skin. “You know, just you and me. Basking in the time we won’t have once everyone knows and once the baby is here. It’s all I’ve ever wanted, (Y/N). A family of my own, that I can love and protect. A home that’s ours.”
“And we will have that,” she smiled. “We’re just allowing more love in. The best part, at the end of the day, we can just kick them out.” 
“When you put it that way,” he laughed before kissing her lips, savoring her. “Alright, fine. We’ll tell them next Saturday.” 
“Thank you, Der. It’s gonna be great.”
And it should have. 
Had it not been for the million things that went wrong that week. The A/C was busted for a total of four days, a pipe burst in one of the bathrooms, the paint they had ordered for the nursery had been put on back order, and the Camaro had to be taken into the shop for tuning. Thing after thing occurred, piling onto an already stressful time. 
Nevertheless, the week came and went. And before either of them knew it, Saturday had rolled in. 
To say (Y/N) was nervous was an understatement. For some reason, anxiety was taking over her body. Its claws dug themselves deep into her being. It made her veins run cold and her heart speed. She didn’t know how any of them would react to the baby. Even to the fact that they had kept it from them for so long. And although Derek tried his best to calm her worries, they had already made a home inside her head. 
“God, what if they hate the fact that I’m pregnant?” (Y/N) worried as she laid out more food than necessary on the kitchen counter. “What if they find the idea of bringing a child into a messed up world to be the worst thing ever?” 
“Who cares, baby? It’s our child,” Derek tried to reassure. “We are the ones that will be raising them. The ones to protect them. Always and forever.
“But they say it takes a village, Der. And that is one thing that I know is true. I mean, at some point, we will need their help.”
“And you really think we won’t have it,” he said, rounding the kitchen island. His hands traveled her body and, in one swift move, had her sitting on the counter. At eye level, he could stare directly into her glossy eyes. “We have been through everything with these people. Even the ones I hated at the beginning have become my closest friends. I’m 100% sure they’ll be thrilled that you’re pregnant.”
He snaked his hand to her chin, pulling her down for a soft kiss. But once their lips made contact, it was too much of a temptation to keep it chaste. Soon enough, their tongues danced together, and their hands pulled each other closer. It left them breathless and excited, wanting —needing more. 
“Uh, we can come back if it’s a bad time,” Stiles’ voice rang through the apartment, startling them apart. “But you guys did invite us here. So, it’s kind of bad on you guys.” 
“No. Yes! I mean, it’s not a bad time,” (Y/N) chuckled as she jumped off the counter, hiding her stomach with a comically large bowl. “We just got carried away, I guess.”
“The one day they decide to show up on time,” Derek grumbled under his breath. “Come in, why don’t you?” 
Before they knew it, the apartment was filled with werewolves, a banshee, other werehumans and supernatural beings, and their very own abominable snowman. The couple remained in the kitchen as everyone situated themselves, whispering under their breath what the best way to go about it would be. 
“Not to be pushy,” Peter called out. “But if you guys only called us over for some food, I have better things to do than hang around children all day.”
“You do know we’re all well above the age of eighteen, right?” Isaac retorted. “It’s been quite some time since we have been children.” 
“You’re still younger than me, correct?” 
“Well, yeah…” 
“Then children,” he said. “So, what is it? Am I staying, or am I leaving?” 
“Settle down, Peter,” Derek responded, biting back the urge to roll his eyes. “We do have something important to announce to everyone and would very much appreciate it if you just listen.” 
“Fine,” he frowned. “But you have ten minutes of my time before I decide to leave.” 
“All we need is a couple of seconds, really,” (Y/N) said with a smile on her face so sweet no one dared say anything else. “I’m sure you heard that I was away for a while and that we were undergoing renovations here. Which, as you can tell by the lack of changes, was not true. Derek lied on my behalf and moved any necessary meetings out of our home because I needed this time to myself as I underwent a sort of change in my life.” 
“Oh my god, you’re dying,” Stiles worried. “Is it cancer? Is it at least treatable?” 
“It’s nothing like that, Stiles,” she reassured with a soft chuckle. “But thank you for worrying. It’s just as life-changing but not necessarily life-threatening. At least, I’m hoping it’s not. But you could never be sure until…” 
“(Y/N), you’re rambling,” Derek whispered in her ear. “It’s nothing bad.”
“You’re pregnant!” Lydia exclaimed, a bright smile adorning her face. 
“How would you know that?” Malia questioned. “I thought you predicted death, not new life.” 
“It’s common sense,” she shrugged, disregarding the comment. “She’s been hiding for months. The place smells like paint, and nothing in this room is painted, so I can only assume it’s a bedroom. And she hasn’t stepped out from behind the island that just so happens to cover her stomach. Two and two always makes four.” 
“Except on this occasion, it made three,” (Y/N) chuckled. She walked around the counter and joined Derek’s side, her bump finally on display for everyone to see. “But, yes, Lydia, I am pregnant. Almost five months now.” 
A shower of ‘holy crap’s and ‘oh my god’s rained over them as, one by one, the pack got to their feet and hugged the couple in congratulations. They rejoiced together and started planning how to spoil little baby Hale even before they were born. Every single person was as excited and overjoyed as Derek and (Y/N) were, anxious for when the baby was born. 
Well, except Peter. 
“Yeah, next time you have these kinds of news, little nephew, make sure to make it an email,” he grumbled, looking at his watch. “Can’t believe I canceled evening plans for a pregnancy announcement.” 
“We love you too, Peter,” (Y/N) laughed. “Maybe if you leave now, you can still make it to whatever it is that you had planned.” 
“I’m already here,” he shrugged as he sat back down on the sofa. “Might as well take advantage of the free food.” 
“Ignore him,” Derek told her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “He can’t take this moment away from us. It’s all ours.” 
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1K notes · View notes
undiscovered-horizon · 11 months
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Hello! Just finished Die Happy, and oh my gosh what a wholesome and sad time!! I love the way you portray Sanji and his inner monologue with himself.
Would it be possible to get a continuation where reader ends up making it a habit of sleeping with Sanji now that’s she’s had a taste. They kind of make a nightly routine and no one really questions it because they just like seeing everyone happy. How would Sanji feel realizing that it’s been weeks since you first started sleeping with him? What if reader is trying to tell Sanji they actually really like him but he just thinks reader is to perfect for him so he’s kind of blind to her advances.
Thank you so much and I hope you have fun writing!!!
All ye who yearned (@federalclassroom @sparkyrosewood14 @zzbloody-animezz @clonaa @number-0-iz) come get y'all juice:
Maelstrom - Sanji x Reader
Part 2 to "Die Happy"
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One night turned into two, two turned into a week and a week turned into... well, however long you and Sanji have been sleeping in one bed. He's not keen on keeping track but taking in the moment instead. He doesn't ask why you continue to crawl right back into his bedroom every night. In fact, he doesn't dare make any comment about your new habit out of fear that you might think he's grown tired of it.
Every night he thinks it might be the last, so he forces himself to stay up as long as he can. Although having you sleep soundly against his chest makes his heart rejoice, the new and asinine sleeping schedule he has implemented puts his body into a poor state. Sanji expected someone to say something but he hasn't considered the whole picture and how it looks to the other Straw Hats - he sleeps in one bed with you every night and looks exhausted during the day. It gives... quite a boost to one's imagination. This is why no one so far has made any inquiry about the new sleeping arrangement.
Even if only opportunity made him the person you like to waste your spare time with, Sanji feels as though the universe itself has smiled at him. Some god above him saw his suffering and decided to ease his burden a little. In his mind, this is the most logical explanation.
But that's about to change.
He feels you stir against him. Unknowingly, Sanji freezes, afraid that it's his feathery touches that wake you up from slumber. He holds his fingertips right above your skin, uncertainty hanging in the air.
"You're not sleeping?" you murmur against his chest.
Gently, he sets his hand back on your arm. Your skin is burning his fingers but he welcomes the scorch like frosty cheeks welcome the scarce sunlight in winter months.
"Just thinking about something," he answers with faux disinterest, hoping that you won't inquire further.
To Sanji's horror, you lean away from him and prop your chin up on your head, staring at his face from above. A bright, curious glint shines in your eyes.
"Come on, shoot. What keeps you awake at night?"
Like a deer caught in headlights, he's silently panicking for a moment.
You. All of you. From the way you say "good morning" in a raspy voice to the "goodnight" you separate with a yawn. How I can tell exactly what's on your mind by the expression on your face. The little dances you do when you're having a good day. How adorable your scowl is. The way my chest hurts when I see you frowning.
Sanji gives you a reassuring smile and shakes his head slightly. "Nothing you should worry about, love," he dismissed you. A beautiful liar he is - nothing in his voice indicates the dread that resides inside him.
His heartbeat quickens suddenly when you give him a flash of a smile. In the twilight of a dark night, you look like a faerie, luring a poor, lovesick man to bestow his deepest, darkest secrets upon you.
And Sanji just might.
"Maybe I want to." You shrug your shoulders. With your other hand, you poke his chest playfully. "I'm fine with worrying if it's about you."
Sanji swallows thickly. You're in his bed, snuggled against him and openly admitting you care about him. If he doesn't change the course of the conversation soon, he might act upon his desire, confess feelings he's been unwilling to admit even to himself.
"As much as I appreciate that," he begins nervously, "there's enough in that pretty little head of yours. You just lean on me and I'll do the rest." Sanji forces himself to smile softly at you as he makes a point of leaning through putting his hand on his chest.
You chuckle and bite your lower lip. Sanji's mind tries to slip into his well-known fantasies of kissing you but he manages to keep his thoughts at the present moment.
"Spoken like a true gentleman." Hinging on your forearm, you lean closer to his face. "Maybe it's you I should marry."
He clenches his hand covered by the duvet. Having you so close to him was a daydream until you made it turn into somewhat of a nightmare. Sanji keeps telling himself that whatever happens, he can't let you in on his feelings, fearing that if you learn of his hopeless affliction, you will abandon his intimacy once and for all. And that Sanji doesn't even want to consider as a possibility.
"I thought you wanted to marry a prince," he says in an attempt to divert the conversation.
A scoff leaves your lips and you shake your head in disapproval.
"Fuck princes," you drone out. "I'm not a participation award you can put in your trophy case and show off. I'm more like wild, untamed waters. Like a maelstrom." Your voice hangs for a moment and Sanji holds on to it with more hope than he thought he's capable of. Maybe the universe really did take pity on him. Then, you lean even closer to him, leaving a rather obscene lack of space between your faces. "And you, my lovely Sanji, are a skilled sailor."
His heart stops for a moment.
"Don't do this," he whispers in a weak voice. "Don't give me hope for something I can never have. It's cruel."
"'Can never have?'" you repeat in confusion. "It's your bed I keep crawling back into despite telling myself to stop doing that. You already have me. All of me. I don't care how desperate that makes me look. I want you to have me."
Sanji tries to control his ragged breathing. His iron will is crumbling as he allows himself to look at your lips. Is he dreaming?
"You shouldn't say things you don't mean," he warns you in a distant voice. His mind is too occupied, too busy going haywire, to be rooted in reality. Will you taste as sweet as he imagined? Will you linger on his lips like the reviving kiss of a goddess given to a dying man?
"You shouldn't assume I'm someone who just runs their mouth," you answer.
His lips barely touch yours. There's too much fear in him - fear, that this isn't actually happening. That you're just a dream within a dream, that he imagined this moment to curb his desperation. But then he feels you kissing him back, your lips engulfing his as though you're silently begging him not to go anywhere and stay with you. Sanji can't help himself putting his hand on the nape of your neck and fixing the angle off the kiss to deepen it; to kiss you like princesses deserve to be kissed.
Maybe you are a maelstrom - raging waters twisting into deadly whirlpools. But he's definitely not a sailor. A shipmate would navigate dangerous tides, while Sanji seems to be drowning. The waters of you are filling his lungs and yet he feels like he's breathing for the very first time. He's slowly falling farther away from the light of reason. Soon, darkness engulfs him. But it's not cold. It's not lonely. It's the darkness of a warm, summer night.
And in this darkness, drowned in the untamed waters of a maelstrom, he hears a siren singing in your voice:
The madness of returned devotion.
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sashi-ya · 17 days
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𝑲𝑨𝑰𝑱𝑼 𝑺𝑬𝑿 𝑺𝑷𝑶𝑹𝑬𝑺 𓇢𓆸 kaiju no 8 "sex pollen" hc ⟢ soshiro, kafka & reno
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tw: mdni. sex pollen: "funghi type" kaiju reproductive spores and how they affect the guys. explicit scenes of sexual nature. based on a mini fic I wrote -never posted, will someday- of soshiro and reader being affected by such spores.
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We often think of Kaiju as violent and dangerous creatures; some are big, other not so much, but all of them are -usually- taken as a threat for human kind. However, not every Kaiju known to mankind is exactly the type to be feared. Or maybe, actually, yes… “These are Fungi type” Okonogi says. “Ah- like the ones we killed back in Sagamihara, right?” Soshiro asks, absolutely unaware of the rare threat he was about to face. “Not really, fuku-taichou…” she murmurs, fixing her glasses, worried…
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𝐒𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎
He wore a mask but forgot that, even if every Kaiju had been already subjugated, his suit was still covered in those sexual spores. The fact that he kills by slicing them in various pieces, made him specially full of them.
Soshiro doesn’t really need a sex pollen to fuck you hard, that’s why the effects were -at first- difficult for him to control. “I don’t feel well…” he whispered to himself, feeling his body covered in sweat and the image of your body taking over every corner of his imagination. He felt like his palms were itchy, needy to squeeze your breasts, your ass, your thighs.
His tongue felt the pain of his sharpened fangs; he had to bite it while he came back to the base. Metallic taste of a little drop of blood filled his mouth the moment he saw you standing there, waiting for him, worried.
“Come here, I’m desperate to fuck you… please” he begged, whispering on your ear with his hands around your waist. Soshiro gave 0 fucks about the rest, nobody cared anyway.
Couldn’t wait much longer; he pushed you into a bathroom stall. Sat on the toilet, snatched you from your waist, pulled down your pants and lifted up your leg. A bite on your inner thigh, leaving a mark that will take some time to heal. His tongue on your sex. Up and down, sucking, slurping, tasting… devouring. Even if he is an oral sex god, this time felt like he was even better. Soshiro forgot to breathe, and from time to time you urged him to stop to get some oxygen.
Enough with the oral, Soshiro needed release; he couldn’t even stand up, his dick was freed for you to bounce -moved by his strong arms- up and down. The slap and the juices that dampened his pants and belly, felt for him like a true blessing. Those Kaiju wanted us to reproduce as well…
𝐊𝐀𝐅𝐊𝐀
My man here knew about the spores, however he felt asleep right before reading that the effects included a desire to “reproduce”. Probably due to his Kaiju nature the effects kicked a little later than the rest; he was still sitting in complete peace -actually fantasizing with him being the one saving the day- as he looked through the van’s window.
Sitting by his side, you were sleeping the way back… however, your dreams were suddenly interrupted by someone pulling on your arm.
“Mmhwhat?”. “I need… I- help-“ Kafka murmured, desperate. It seems to you he was having a “Kaiju emergency” and nobody, still, could know he was one. Quickly you eased the sleep away and began assessing him in silence to know what was happening. Yet, you noticed nothing.
Kafka opened his turquoise eyes as big as plates; and instead of explaining he snatched your hand and took it to his crotch. It was hard, harder than ever before. It felt almost like a rock, like a pulsating, throbbing, pleading and suffering rock.
“The spores… I am dying… I’m scared of transforming” he cried, almost inaudibly.
If he is transforming, it’s over. He is dying? Then let’s save his life… you took your jacket off and threw it, in complete silence, over his crotch. It was a blessing that you two sat at the very back of the van. Everybody, tired -and probably some affected by the spores- were completely unaware of the rest. And that, also, become an advantage for your intrepid hand as it slid inside the pants of your kaiju hybrid “friend”.
You knew exactly how to help him, ups and downs, playful taps and circles with your palm on top of his gland. Oh, poor Kafka, he fought back the urge to turn into a Kaiju and eat you alive… And you thought staining his pants with pure sticky whiteness was enough? Wait until you get to the base…
𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐎
The calmer of them all; mature, silent, hiding sweaty trembling hands. As one of the younger, he was able to conceal his growing appetite; at least until getting to the base. Reno became silent, trying to focus the mess on his head and the hardness inside his pants at bay. However, your beauty brought detrimental consequences to that state of pure meditation.
“Why are you running around in such revealing clothes?” he asked, looking and sounding almost mad. You stopped running; he didn’t seem to notice the towel hanging from your arm, but only the short shorts and gym bra you were wearing.
“I forgot my towel, I’m gonna shower” you explained, noticing the way he seemed to transform into something similar to a feral, hungry beast.
Reno pounced into you, pinning you against the wall of that empty hall that lead to a lively bathroom. “You were going to…” he whispered, with pale lips pressed against your neck. Reno inhaled your scent, he seemed to enjoy the perfume of your unwashed, sweaty skin. His fingers knew exactly where your core was, his teeth carved marks on your neck, his sex felt hard on your belly… that night, shower had to wait… because the more he sniffled on your flesh, the more he sucked in those kaiju spores.
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adoregojo · 11 months
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summary: once you stepped in, he knew you were his world. notes: i <3 isagi sm
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isagi was an average person.
he've been told brutally by what was supposed to be his friends that he he didn't neither look that attractive nor that bad. at least an acceptable looking guy.
his grads were normal, nothing above the usual B nor anything less than it. he didn't get a top of student once because there will always be that one subject that'll manage to put him in his place every time remaining him he wasn't that special.
he had a ordinary house. nothing much of big or fancy house, nor something too poor to live in. and his parents were the usual housewife and the hard working man who keeps his family well fed.
there was nothing special about isagi yoichi.
yet you still see him as he was the brightest star in the sky.
it's kinda of embarrassing to admit it, but he always had a thing for you. ever since the first year. that day you helped him before his head was a few inches from the ground, holding him by his back. you particularly saved him from being embarrassed that day.
he was sure you stole his heart as well that day.
because ever since than he had never been so in love with someone. no it wasn't a misunderstanding of liking, he loved you. sure call him cheesy but he could sower that he never had a those feelings for anyone in his life.
he knew he was in love with you when he couldn't sleep thinking of you.
he knew he was in love with you when he would start writing your name randomly on his notebook.
he knew he was in love with you when the teacher asked him to answer a question when his eyes and mind were busy admiring you instead.
but he never toke a step.
he never talked to you.
he never approached you.
he loved you in silence. and he was planning to stay there. in the middle, where someone like him belonged.
needless to say that isagi genuinely thought it was a prank when you confessed your feelings to him. him? the same guy that received a total 0 chocolate on valentine?, with you? the girl that had half of the school head over heels for you?
if anything he was caught off guard that you even noticed his existence. him out of all the people that were on your feet.
and how could he ever dream about saying no to you.
life was different since then.
instead of usual cold hands, yours was there to warm it for him, to remind him he was there, that you were there. you two were a thing. his untouched lips were always met with yours, he'd take any chance to feel them against his over and over, he remembered how shy he is when you two first kissed but now he shamelessly asks for them every day. like they were his oxygen that brought his heart to it own beat.
instead of one bare of school shoes on his front door it was two, it's you when you came to visit his home. regardless that his parents adored you. specially his mom, she taught you how to cook kintsuba for him. you told him that you were willing to learn new things if that made him smile. and he just fell more in love with you.
instead of going back home alone, it was you warping your arms around him while the wind smothered the both you. it was illegal for two people to ride the same bike, yet for him you were worth it. your warmth on his back making him all giddy and fussy on the inside.
instead of going with his friends out, he went out with you more. name it; karaoke? multiple times. a cafe?; at least once in two weeks. the park?; twice a week. practice?; you're always there, it's a daily thing.
is it possible that he just keeps on falling in love with you each day?
he loved you on your good days and made sure to add more love the bad ones. you'd never look 'ugly' to him, you could wear the most hideous thing ever and he'd still think your breathtaking as ever.
and the cherry on top all of that, that you loved him the same.
you loved him when he failed miserably at making you chocolate on valentines day and you still ate it with a generous smile, he's the clumsiest person to ever witness yet you'd still look at him like he dose no wrong.
you loved him when he blew his chance to the nationals. you held him gently while he buried himself in your welcoming embrace. he cried and cried wetting your shoulder with tears. yet you still run your fingers through his hair lovingly, your smothering voice mumbles comforting words. you let him know that you were there for him even at his worst times.
even when he hesitated to approve the 'blue lock' project thing.
"I don't know, babe." he said hesitated while his grip still around the paper taking a look at it from time to time.
"come on, yo! it's your chance." you told in pure excitement like you were the one who got the letter. it made him intense in joy how happy you looked for him.
"i just don't want to be away from you." he admitted. the words leaving his mouth uncontrollably.
"oh- don't be clingy now. I'll get mad at you if you wasted this." you huffed trying to look anywhere near angry despite the red that spread across your face at his honest words.
isagi sighed, he was doomed the second you knew about this project. he could never resist you.
"only if you company me there."
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he hated this.
he didn't like the people here. he didn't like the food. he didn't like the smell, and he definitely didn't like the frustration feeling after losing.
he wished he hugged you tighter when you two were saying goodbye. he wished he had hidden your picture on the aquarium date more unseen before it was taken. now he gotta rely on his brain that was a ball instead. now thinking about it that long-10-minutes (breathless) of his lips against yours was definitely not enough, he wished he kissed you more.
he knew this is his dream, his passion. yet he still missed you terribly. he bet that anyone here was willing to hear his rambling about his theories and noel noa as much as you, god. you didn't even like soccer that much yet you still put up with him managing to ask questiond there and here to prove your interest. he missed you so bad he could cry.
even nagi and barou complain about him repeating a girl's name in his sleep, at least nagi was complaining while barou threatened to cut his tongue if he kept that up.
he already got here, he proved himself. he got rivals, he spoked some unnecessary words that you'll definitely get mad over him for it. he got stronger and somehow wiser, built his own character and slef-worth from the start.
that definitely did not mean that'll leave you in his shadow, if anything he wanted you by his side when he becomes the best striker. the world cup in his hand and you in his mind.
he'll make it happen. he'll make that dream come true.
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gotta do part 2 for the return (✿ ◕‿◕). (have a nice day everyone)
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cuubism · 7 months
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Computation
part 7 of Complex Mathematics
(aka Dream vs Technology -- Technology: 1, Dream: 0)
------------
Wednesday, 3:54am
Hob. what is the wifi password?
3:56am: why are you texting me when I’m in the same house?
3:57am: I did not want to wake you up.
4:00am: ……….
4:01am: Ah.
4:03am: it’s 12345. which is terrible security by the way
4:04am: how do i know this and you don’t? we’re in YOUR flat
4:05am: Computers are your friends, not mine.
4:10am: It does not like the password.
4:12am: alright i’m getting up
Dream creeps back into the living room, holding a cup of tea, as Hob’s tinkering with the router. Turns out it needed to be completely reset before he could reconnect it to Dream’s laptop. Not that this is that hard, but for some reason Hob doesn’t understand, technology is simply out of Dream’s grasp. Head in the clouds, too smart for basic computer skills, etc etc.
“A peace offering,” Dream says, placing the tea on the coffee table. He perches on the couch beside where Hob’s leaning over the router on its spot on the bookshelf.
“I’m not mad at you,” Hob says. He pats the router as its indicator lights finally turn green again. “I will take tea, though.”
“I woke you,” Dream says softly.
“You’ve woken me before, you will again,” Hob says with equanimity. Their sleep schedules are out of alignment, it tends to happen.
It’s the wrong thing to say, though. Dream cringes, hands folding in his lap. “I should be able to handle such things.”
“It’s just the wifi.” Hob finally finishes reconnecting Dream’s laptop and turns properly towards him. Dream still looks guilty about it. Sometimes Hob misses the time before they were dating, when Dream would bristle at him instead of caving. Just because he doesn’t like seeing Dream feel bad.
He takes the cup of tea and places it in Dream’s hands instead, briefly wrapping their hands around each other. “It’s okay,” he repeats. Possibly they should have a longer conversation about it, but Hob’s not emotionally awake enough for it.
Instead, he gets up and heads for the kitchen to put on some coffee. He needs something with more caffeine in it than tea.
“What are you doing?” Dream asks.
“Might as well get something done while my brain is online,” Hob says. He goes to fetch his own laptop from Dream’s bedroom. Lord knows it’ll need to get reconnected to the glitchy wifi again, anyway.
~~
Friday, 2:05pm
Hob.
2:06pm: ?
2:07pm: The wifi is angry again.
2:09pm: did you antagonize it?
2:09pm: hang on did you just wake up now?
2:10pm: I cannot comment.
2:12pm: I assume you have been hard at work in the library since six.
2:14pm: more like hardly working in the library. i did make an app that gives you a gold star every time you do the laundry
2:16pm: Will that assist in your routines?
2:17pm: probably not but it’ll be fun for 5 minutes
2:17pm: wifi password’s still 12345
2:18pm: maybe I should make an app for that instead…
2:20pm: I do not think it would help.
2:30pm: …You are not trying to make said app, are you?
2:34pm: nope just realized I’m late for a class and had to scramble out of there. I’ll be back later can do couples counseling for you and wifi then?
2:35pm: Very well.
For a while after putting down his phone, Dream stares at the wifi router in vexation, as if that will possibly make the angry red lights turn green again. He doesn’t know what he’s done wrong. He knows even less what to do to fix it.
He needs the wifi operational to keep generating these fractals. He supposes he could go to the library and use university wifi, but that requires going out in public, which is preferably avoided, at least while he’s trying to work. So he will have to do something else until Hob gets back from class.
He recalls what Hob had said. That instead of working on his dissertation he had made an entire phone app about laundry. He had said it so casually, like it was a doodle to pass the time. Dream can use apps—barely—but he cannot begin to fathom how he would go about making one. Hob does not understand how even in his procrastination he is exceptional.
Well. This is something that Dream can do. Hob hates doing laundry—hence the app-based reward system—but Dream doesn’t mind. He finds it meditative. He will have to be more precise about fabric care instructions now, as while his own clothes rarely range beyond grey, black, and dark blue, Hob actually wears colors which might bleed into each other.
He puts on his headphones with some music, gathers up the laundry from the bedroom, and goes about his routine.
When Hob gets back, Dream has finished hanging the laundry to dry and returned to his contemplation of the router, this time still with his headphones playing. He’s lost in thought, and doesn’t notice Hob’s come in until his hand lands on Dream’s shoulder. Normally a sudden touch when he’s thinking would make him jump, but he’s become used to Hob.
“Trying to solve your marital problems through telepathy?” Hob asks.
“We were never married,” Dream says. “Indeed we are enemies.”
Hob laughs. He kisses Dream on the cheek, then kneels in front of the router. “You have to stop tormenting my boyfriend,” he tells it. It only blinks back at him innocently.
Hob can be very silly at times. “I do not think arguing with the inanimate object will help,” Dream says.
“You never know.” Hob takes the router down and sets about unplugging all the cables. Dream still doesn’t know what any of them precisely do, nor how wifi works. It may as well be magic.  
Hob has it fixed within minutes, of course. Far more effective than Dream’s intense staring. He gets Dream’s laptop reconnected, and Dream is finally able to start generating his fractal. “Thank you,” he says.
“Anything for my love,” says Hob, getting to his feet again. “Guessing you want some time to yourself now to work on this?”
“Yes,” says Dream, with some guilt. Hob has come home to help him only for him to immediately bury himself in his work again. But yes, he does want to make progress on this at last.
“Well, good,” says Hob, and Dream turns to him in surprise. “Because I’m due for a nap.”
Dream still hasn’t formulated a response to this by the time Hob’s disappeared into his bedroom. Strange, that their routines can be so opposite and still meld together so well.
Hob pokes his head back out into the hall. “Did you do the laundry?”
“Yes,” says Dream.
“I could kiss you,” Hob declares, then blows one to him before disappearing back into the bedroom.
Dream presses his hand to his cheek, as if to touch a kiss that had really landed there. Smiles to himself. Then goes back to his fractal.
~~
Monday, 5:02pm
Hob.
5:03pm: Wifi?
5:04pm: …Yes.
Thursday, 9:50pm
…..Hob.
9:50pm: I’m sitting right next to you.
9:51pm: ….
9:51pm: I’m just gonna get you a new router. This thing’s got problems.
9:52pm: I think it is I who has the problems.
9:52pm: That too.
Saturday, 6:00pm
Hob.
6:00pm: Is it broken AGAIN??
6:01pm: No. I got dinner.
6:02pm: Oh!
6:02pm: Fuck I’m starving.
6:03pm: Coming back from class now.
6:03pm: Don’t touch the router it’s in a fragile mental state.
6:04pm: Aren’t we all.
~~
Thursday, 3:50pm
This time, it is the wifi in Hob’s flat that is stymieing Dream. He does not think it is broken. Hob has merely changed the password, as he’s much more diligent about internet security than Dream, and then forgotten to tell Dream what it is. Or, more likely, correctly assumed Dream would have to ask him again anyway.
He briefly contemplates trying to deduce the password, but it is likely an incomprehensible string of characters that Hob would claim is ideal security precisely because of the impossibility of deducing it.
He refuses to text Hob about it again. Hob has a class to teach soon—Dream has his schedule memorized—Dream does not want to distract him. Though speaking of…
3:50pm: You have a class in ten minutes.
3:51pm: FUCK
3:51pm: I got distracted
3:53pm: Now… running
3:54pm: You are not near the building, are you.
3:55pm: NOPE
Dream smiles to himself, thinking of Hob sprinting across campus. It happens often. Hob is good at many things, but time management is not one of them. This is why Dream knows his schedule.
He does feel… a bit silly, though. He should be better at this, should he not? Less bothersome to Hob over small things that he should be able to handle.
Normally he would go back to his work to distract himself from these thoughts, but he still can’t work on his fractals without being able to connect remotely to the university computers, which are more powerful than his own. This is something Hob had also set up for him, because Dream had not been able to make any sense of the instructions he had been given for remote login, and the like.
Sighing, he instead takes his sketchbook out of his bag. It’s been a while since he’s made any time for drawing. But he had started looking at fractals in the first place to better understand patterns in art, to understand resonances between what occurred in nature and what was projected by mathematics. And drawing used to soothe him.
So he starts drawing, sketching the fractal he has been generating—to the extant that he can with the imprecise instrument of his pen. Even in infinite impossible digital form, the branching spirals eventually become too small for him to see, though he knows they continue on in perfect replication forever, smaller and smaller until they disappear into atoms. He cannot recreate that level of detail by hand. But he tries.
By the time he gets another text back from Hob, an hour later, he’s moved to the floor to have more space. He’s found a bigger piece of scrap paper and is drawing the fractal again, in more detail this time, color-coding the different shapes, free-handing where he should probably use a ruler for more precision. He has achieved several more levels of replication than before, but it is still not right. He can’t get it right. If he could only use the stupid computer system he could get it right.
Finally he looks at his phone, several minutes after the text alert pinged.
Thanks love 😘
Unexpectedly, it makes him tear up. Always this happens to him. He does not realize how frustrated he has become with himself until it is too late.
Of course, to only make matters worse, he is still sitting hunched on the floor, pen clasped tight in his hand, teeth clenched so hard it’s hurting his jaw, when Hob comes through the door. He must have texted not far from home.
“Hey, love,” Hob’s already saying as he comes through the door, “meant to stop and grab dinner but I totally forgot— I’m sure I have something here, though— Dream?”
Dream hasn’t moved from the floor, or responded. Hob puts down his bag and comes over to him. He looks down at the fractal, which is still incomplete. “Did you draw that?”
“Obviously,” Dream bites. The pen is still in his hand. He drops it, scraping a hand through his hair. Great. Now he’s snapping at Hob, too.
Hob sits down on the floor beside him. He studies the fractal. Then points to one of the shapes that Dream’s colored in red. “That’s supposed to be purple.”
Dream stares at the fractal. Hob is right, it is meant to be purple. According to the way Dream had color-coded it digitally. He looks at Hob. “How do you know that?”
“I’ve watched you fiddling with it enough. We set it up on your laptop, remember?”
Yes. Dream remembers. He remembers how Hob had helped him.
“Wifi giving you troubles again?” Hob asks, looking from the drawing, to Dream’s laptop, which is sleeping on the couch.
Dream nods, then saws quietly, “Are you not… frustrated with me? Annoyed?”
Hob doesn’t need to ask what he means. “Sometimes,” he says, and Dream can’t help his flinch. “So?”
“So?”
Hob shrugs. “I would have missed that class if you didn’t text me.”
Dream does not understand the relevance.
Hob looks up at him, raising an eyebrow in challenge. “Aren’t you annoyed with me?”
Perhaps he is, at times. Recently, Dream has been too absorbed in his project to feel much about it at all.
“I don’t know,” he says. “It is just how you are.”
Hob seems to think that Dream still doesn’t understand the point he’s making, and perhaps Dream doesn’t. Hob takes his hand. “Look. I’ve no idea why someone as smart as you are is constantly defeated by basic technology, but it doesn’t matter. Always having to be the one to fix the router is a small price to pay for having you in my life.”
Dream’s mouth opens, but no words come out. He… he does not know if anyone has ever put up with him with so little complaint. For truly, it is not only computer troubles. It is all the small things that stack upon each other to make him feel different and difficult.
“I find I do not like…” Dream admits tentatively, “when you must do these things. That I should be able to do.”
“You did the laundry the other day,” Hob says.
Why must he jump topics in this manner? “I do not understand.”
“Well, we don’t actually live together, you know. You have your own laundry. You don’t have to do mine, too.”
“I thought it would help you,” Dream says.
Hob just waits expectantly.
Dream looks down at his lap. “Ah. I… see.” Hob finds him frustrating at times, he had said so, but still wants to help him. He finds Hob’s admittance that Dream is frustrating to be a relief, in its way. He would only feel more on edge if Hob pretended otherwise, surely to snap later when Dream was least expecting it, as so many have done.
“Give me your arm,” Hob says then.
When Dream does, Hob pushes up his sleeve, takes one of the markers from the floor and writes on Dream’s forearm, the wifi password is I love you.
“There,” he says. “Now you won’t forget.”
Dream touches the words with a light fingertip. “This is not good internet security.”
“Oh, so you do listen my ramblings,” Hob says, laughing. Always, Dream thinks. “What, you’re going to throw out my valentine because I cut the heart out a little wonky?”
He makes as if to rub the marker off, and Dream pulls his arm protectively to his chest. Hob’s smile softens. He carefully pulls Dream forward into a hug, Dream’s arm pressed between them. Dream tucks his face into the crook of Hob’s neck. It’s one of his favorite places to hide.
“I’ll help you fix your program after we find some dinner,” Hob tells him, rubbing his back.
“I think I should give up on using computers,” Dream mumbles.
Hob chuckles. “See how you feel about it after I make you some brownies for dessert.”
Dream hums in pleasure at the thought, and Hob kisses the side of his head. And Dream touches, again, the words Hob’s written on his arm, where it’s pressed between them. And allows himself to smile.
Wednesday, 6:03pm
Dream is attempting to cook dinner. Hob doesn’t think it’s going so well. At least not if the blaring fire alarm, which Hob’s just silenced by waving a dish towel at it until the smoke dissipated, is any indication. But it does mean he’s been treated to the sight of Dream with his sleeves rolled up, delicate hands at work—and wearing an actual apron.
Having soothed the alarm, he leans against the counter so he can shamelessly ogle instead of helping.
“What are you even trying to make?” he asks, eyeing the still-smoking oven.
Dream pouts. “Only bread. It should not be so hard.”
“You didn’t wait for me to get home to watch?” He imagines the sight of Dream aggressively kneading the bread dough. It shouldn’t be a turn on, but it kind of is.
“You would make a spectacle of my misery?” Dream says, but there’s a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, like he knows exactly what Hob is thinking about.
“Definitely,” Hob says, and Dream sighs, but turns to take the attempt at bread out of the oven. It’s… pretty blackened, to be honest. “Butter’ll save it, I’m sure!” Hob says cheerfully.
“Nothing will save it,” says Dream, morosely. He pulls off his oven mitt in apparent disgrace, and— Hob catches his arm.
“How has this not faded yet?”
For Hob’s writing saying the wifi password is I love you is still on his forearm.
Dream looks sheepish. “I got it tattooed.”
Hob tilts his head at him, confused. “So you could remember the wifi password?”
“So that I could remember this.” He traces his finger over, I love you.
Hob feels a blush creep across his cheeks. But it’s a pleasant feeling. “This is not even my best handwriting.”
“I know,” says Dream. He does not seem unhappy about it.
Hob takes his arm, touches the words, too. “You could have just gotten this part done.”
“I think,” Dream says slowly, touching the part that says, the wifi password is, “that this is another form of the same.”
And Hob… finds himself tearing up a little. Because it’s true. It’s so silly that Dream, certifiable maths genius, struggles so much with basic computer skills. But Hob will do any silly thing for him, because he loves him.
“Yeah,” he says, taking a shaky breath. “It is.”
“Unfortunately, you can never change the wifi password now,” says Dream, and Hob laughs wetly.
“I really can’t, can I? Terrible security. The things I’ll do for you, darling.”
“Would that include making proper bread?” Dream asks, and Hob nods, patting his arm.
“We’ll fix it, don’t worry.”
Now he’s wondering how he didn’t notice Dream getting a tattoo. Though to be fair, they haven’t seen each other as much in the past two weeks as they usually would, thanks to very inconvenient scheduling. Apparently Dream’s taken advantage of that time to do this.
“Can’t let you out of my sight for a second,” he says, as he fetches a new bread pan from the cupboard. “God knows what you’ll come back with next.”
“Be careful or I will consider that a challenge,” Dream says, and Hob pauses as way too many images flash through his mind. He shakes them off. He’ll never be able to focus on anything like that.
And Dream, the bastard, is smirking.
“Watch that look on your face or you might find that flour you’re holding dumped over your head,” Hob warns, but Dream only looks victorious, and utterly uncaring of the bag of flour he's precariously picked up.
“How will you ogle me kneading the dough that way?”
Hob swipes a dish towel from the counter and throws it at him. Dream yelps and spills the flour, which poofs up in a cloud of white landing all over his black t-shirt.
“Hob,” he complains.
“Serves you right, you dickhead,” Hob says. It only returns the smirk to Dream’s face.
“If you feel that way perhaps I’ll decide I don’t need your supervision,” he says archly.
Hob tears a piece off of Dream’s first attempt at a loaf. Or rather, breaks off a piece, which is hard as stone. He shows it to him as evidence.
Dream snatches it and shoves it into his mouth. Bites down with a crunch so horrifying Hob’s afraid he’s broken a tooth. But Dream persists, chewing it painstakingly and then swallowing, as if by force.
“Taste good?” Hob asks.
“Yes—” Dream starts to insist—then dissolves into a fit of coughing that swiftly turns into giggles. Hob loves it so much when he laughs like that. It’s so rare.
Hob laughs with him. Then frees the crumpled bag of flour from Dream’s grasp and sets it aside, brushes the flour and crumbs from his shirt. Then he takes Dream’s arm and runs his fingertip over the words again, still in awe.
He again finds himself having to clear his throat to avoid tearing up. But he manages, and says, “Let’s get you some proper, not burnt bread, yeah?”
“Please,” says Dream, a tad sheepish. “I am… very hungry.”
Hob kisses his cheek, then goes about solving that problem, too.
236 notes · View notes
romerona · 5 months
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All Y/N ever wanted to do was sing her songs and be free. Yet somehow, after offering to pay for the meal of a certain boy in a straw hat she finds herself causing havoc through the East Blue.
Masterlist - Next.
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Trigger warning: canon violence. Word count: 8K
A/N: The only thing I will be describing about Y/N is her hair colour. Everything else you can imagine her as you wish.
Disclaimer: The songs I will be using in this fic aren't mine bc I have 0 creativity. I'm sorry.
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Middle of the ocean, Nami's boat.
"Sooner or later, I'll wander into the unknown
Sooner or later, you'll face the world on your own
Who will you hang to when you're left all alone?
When the night grows cold, and the winds have blown--"
"....give me some quiet and some space?"
Nami's annoyed voice made Y/N look up from her booklet to Luffy chasing after his hat, it came right to where he was sitting at the nose of the boat. So, she simply stretched her arm to catch it just before it could fly away.
"Here," Y/N gave the thankful Luffy his hat back who took it with a small smile while mumbling his gratitude.
"Not cool," Luffy then turned to Nami, more serious than Y/N had ever seen him be. "Don’t mess with my hat."
"Why do you care so much about that hat anyway?" Y/N asks, glancing back down at her notes.
"Yeah, It looks like you fished it out of the trash," Nami added as she continued to try and unlock the safe.
Luffy smiles down his straw hat "One man’s trash is another man’s treasure."
"That still doesn't answer the question, stud."
Zoro groans inside the cabin, "Will you three knock it off? I’m trying to take a nap."
"Oh, I’m sorry," Nami said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "Were we interrupting your beauty sleep?"
"Don’t like what you see? Look away."
Y/N chuckles at the response, however, her laughter is interrupted by the sound of the lock clicking making her snap her head towards Nami who was opening the door of the safe.
"You did it," Luffy exclaimed.
"Holy shit," Y/N swiftly stands and makes her way to stand next to Nami. She smiles at the orange-haired girl, "You actually did it, Pumpik."
They all looked down at the inside of the safe and it's content. Y/N was a little disappointed there wasn't anything special in it, not treasures one assumes a safe would keep, instead, there were some confidential files and a wanted poster for a pirate named Kuro. And then there was the golden map tube, the only valuable thing.
Nami reaches over and takes it. She hastily takes the top off and pulls out the map causing Y/N to let out a breathy sigh.
"That’s it?" Zoro deadpanned unimpressed by the findings, "Isn’t there supposed to be gold inside a safe? Or jewels?"
Nami looks at the green-haired boy in disbelief, "This is more valuable than gold. It’s knowledge. This is a map to the Grand Line."
"The Grand Line. Ah," Luffy, with his usual smile, stares at the map in Nami's hands."The Grand Line is just right… Where is it exactly?"
Y/N looks at the boy with narrow confused eyes, "Seriously?"
"You’re going there, but you don’t know where it is?" Sharing Y/N's thoughts, Nami asks.
"Guess I need a navigator on my crew," Luffy stated grinning at Nami.
"Oh, god," Y/N mumbles, cursing herself for being so stupid to think Luffy could take her to The Grand Line. Maybe she can steal the map at some point or draw a copy and go herself.... thought going solo wasn't a great idea. Not when ghosts continue to hunt for her.
They follow Nami inside the small cabin.
"The seas are divided into four quadrants." Nami grabs some chalk and starts drawing down on the hanging table. "East Blue, North Blue, West, South. This thin strip of land that circles the globe is called the Red Line, and this band across the middle is the Grand Line."
"A treacherous stretch of ocean with bigger islands, bigger cities, bigger pirates. Flush with riches and ripe for the picking." Nami grins.
Y/N regards the drawing with a soft frown as she recalls her past "And way more dangerous..."
"That’s where we’re gonna find the One Piece!" Luffy exclaims.
"I’ve taken out a lot of pirates looking for that thing," Zoro says before asking. "What is it? Like, a big diamond or something?"
"It’s Gold Roger’s treasure," Luffy told him. ""He hid it somewhere in the Grand Line. All in one piece."
"It’s a myth. The reason no one’s found it in 22 years is that it doesn’t exist." Nami says with exasperation.
"Reckon he just said it to piss off the Marines," Y/N hums, "Admirable."
Luffy grins at the girls. "Can’t wait to see the look on your faces when we find it."
"If you find it you mea--"
The sound of an explosion cut Y/N off sending all four of them into alarm mode.
"Is that the Marines?" Zoro asks placing his hands on his katanas.
Y/N quickly pulls her war-fans from her skirt. "Shit. Are they?"
They walk out to the deck. Nami mumbles "How did they find us?"
Y/N looks up with a frown for from the skies, some red dust falls upon them, slowly enveloping them. She was begging to feel dizzy, and very sleepy... with dread, Y/N realized what it was. This has been used on her before.
Nami was out first.
"This smoke smells weird," Luffy mumbles, feeling the effects of the dust.
Zoro was next.
"Luffy, the ma..." Before she could finish she felt the world went dark.
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Y/N's bare feet danced across the warm sand, her laughter mingling with the gentle lapping of the waves. With each step, she felt the freedom of the island envelop her, a secret sanctuary where worries vanished like mist under the morning sun. She glanced back, her eyes alight with mischief as she spotted her much younger sister, Miri, darting through the bustling market stalls.
"Come on, Miri! You'll never catch me!" Y/N called, her voice carried away by the salty breeze.
Miri's laughter bubbled forth, a melody that echoed Y/N's joy. With a determined grin, Miri chased after her sister, her small legs propelling her forward with unbridled enthusiasm. The market around teemed with life, vendors hawking their wares beneath colourful awnings, the air rich with the scent of spices and freshly caught fish.
Dodging between crates of exotic fruits and stalls piled high with vibrant fabrics, the two little girls raced through the people with loud laughter.
As they emerged onto a sun-drenched promenade, Y/N slowed her pace, allowing Miri to draw closer. She turned to face her sister, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Think you can keep up, fish-legs?"
Miri grinned, her round cheeks flushed with exertion. "Just you wait, Y/N! I'll beat you yet!"
With a mischievous wink, Y/N took off again, her laughter trailing behind her like a comet's tail. The younger girl followed in hot pursuit, their laughter intermingling with the sounds of the island—a symphony of joy and freedom that echoed across the sun-kissed shores.
The girls skidded to a halt in a quaint courtyard nestled amidst the bustling village. The air was redolent with the aroma of freshly baked bread and spices, luring them to pause and savour the moment. They settled onto a weathered bench, their breath coming in exhilarated gasps as they gazed around, taking in the vibrant tapestry of island life.
"Y/N/N, you think Mama would let me take one of those landfolk trinkets back home?" Miri exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with delight as she bit into a juicy slice of tropical fruit.
Y/N thought for a moment. Her parents were in an important meeting of some sort, she recalls them quietly speaking about the World Government declaration that was supposed to be out that afternoon, they sounded worried but Y/N had no idea why. "Maybe, depending on the trinket can withstand being in the water for long,"
"It's one of those dolls," Miri mumbles
"Those are made with fabric," Y/N shakes her head, "She won't let you,"
Miri pouts and deflates. Not liking seeing her younger sister sad, Y/N purses her lips in thought, when an idea hits her.
"Maybe not a doll but she can let us take one of these shiny stones. You like those, right?"
"Oh, yes," Miri smiles, "The stones with crystals inside of them, those are pretty..."
Their conversation was interrupted by a sudden commotion in the distance—a chorus of shouts and panicked cries that shattered the tranquillity of the courtyard. People began to scatter, their faces etched with fear as they fled back towards the ocean.
"What's happening, Y/N?" Miri's voice trembled with uncertainty as they were swept up in the frantic throng of people.
Y/N heart skipped a beat as she glanced around, her senses on high alert. People were scattering in every direction, their voices rising in panic as a wave of fear swept through the village like wildfire. Without hesitation, she grabbed her sister's hand, her grip tight with determination.
"We need to find-"
As if on cue, their father appeared, his brow furrowed with worry as he rushed towards them. Without a word, he took hold of Y/N's hand and began to guide them through the throngs of panicked villagers, his grip firm and unwavering.
"Stay close, girls," he urged, his voice tinged with urgency.
"Papa, what's going on?" Y/N asked, her voice wavering with concern.
Their father's expression was grim as he gathered them close, his hands firm yet gentle as he began to guide them towards the beach where their mother was anxiously waiting for them. "There's danger, my pearls. We must go to safety."
The sisters exchanged a worried glance, their steps quickening as they followed their father through the labyrinthine streets. The distant roar of the ocean grew louder with each passing moment, a reminder of the peril lurking just beyond the tranquil facade of the island...
When Y/N first woke up, she was confused.
"What...?" She looked around noticing the others were just as confused as she was. Then she noticed the box they were all in. Her heart began to race.
"They took my swords," Zoro grumbles once he notices the missing weight.
Nami groans noticing they took something away from her too. "And my rucksack, ugh, with all my navigation gear."
"And my fans..." Y/N mumbles, quickly standing up. Ignoring the rest, she reaches to place a hand on the hard wooden wall, "No, no, no..."
Her hands scrabbled against the rough walls, searching for any means of escape. Splinters dug into her skin, but she hardly noticed amidst the rising tide of fear. Memories flooded back, memories she had long tried to bury— The air was stale, each inhale felt like a struggle, as if the very act of breathing was a battle against the confines of the box.
"Hey," A raspy familiar voice said as a large hand landed on her shoulder but it swiftly slapped it off.
"Don't touch me," Y/N snaps as she continues to desperately look for a way out. "No. Not again, please,"
Suddenly, she flinches at the sound of someone next to her banging on the wooden walls.
"Stop." Y/N faintly heard Nami hiss. "Stop that."
"What? I’m trying to find a way out." The same raspy voice said. It was Zoro.
"We’ve been captured. We need a plan." Nami tells them.
"No, fuck no," Y/N continues to look for a way out, this time, however, she starts to push against the wooden wall.
"I just need to beat the hell out of every Marine I see," Zoro agrees.
"Hey, everyone, relax," Luffy, like Zoro, places a hand on Y/N's shoulders only to be slapped off. "We’re fine."
"We’re not fine. The Marines will throw us in jail if we’re lucky." Nami says. "Execute us if they don’t"
"They… they are not Marines. Before I got knocked out, I saw a Jolly Roger. We’ve been captured by pirates."
No...
Y/N stopped her attempts as Images flashed through her mind—memories of past suffocation, of being trapped in tight spaces. Panic gripped her like a vice, squeezing tighter with each passing moment.
Time lost meaning as Y/N battled against the relentless grip of fear. Minutes stretched into hours, each second dragging by with excruciating slowness. Her throat began to close, and her body started trembling with exhaustion and terror.
"That’s much better news."
"No, he’s right," Zoro said, he stepped a little closer to Y/N, and she was painfully aware and utterly horrified. "Marines have training. Pirates are easier to kill."
"Shanks used to say not every situation can be solved with violence," Luffy told them.
"Who the hell is Shanks?"
"We don’t need to fight. I can talk to them," Luffy shakes his head with a grin, "Pirate to pirate."
Y/N would have laughed at the idea of reasoning with a Pirate hadn't she been in the starters of a hysteria attack.
"That won’t work." Nami said
"Why not?"
"To start, you’re not a pirate."
" Yes, I am."
"No," Nami said looking at Luffy, "You are some stretchy guy in a tattered hat."
"I’m a different kind of pirate," Luffy stated, optimism practically oozing out of him.
"Pirates are pirates. There’s only one kind."
That is true. Pirates are all foul, soulless creatures... another wave of memories flooded her brain. Y/N closed her eyes, willing herself to find some semblance of calm amidst the chaos of her mind. But even in the darkness behind her eyelids, the walls of the box loomed large, a constant reminder of her imprisonment.
But just when she felt herself on the brink of surrender, the top of the box opened forcing Y/N to snap open. Music began to fill her ears, an odd spectacle of dancing... clowns? began to surround them once all the walls of the box were pulled apart.
Y/N, finally being able to breathe properly, watches as people in costumes do flips and tricks around them. She glances at her surroundings. This was a circus. Why were they in a circus? The people on the stats started to clap, Y/N frowned as she watched the tears of fear in some of those people. Isn't a circus supposed to be fun?
"No. No, no, no, no," A man or rather a clown with blue and a red nose, shouting prompting everyone to stop the show. "Stop clapping! No, stop! It’s all wrong!"
"The spotlight was late. You completely missed my entrance." He motions for the light to go from the four of them to him. Then he turns his attention to the man dressed in a bear costume who is terrified of the clown. "And where, oh, where was the dancing lion?"
"Hey, I know you," Luffy earned the clown's attention. "I saw your wanted poster in Shells Town. You’re the clown guy. Um, uh… Binky, right?"
"Buggy," The clown with blue hair corrected and to Y/N's surprise, he kept going. "Buggy the Clown. Buggy, the Flashy Fool. Buggy, the Genius Jester."
"Wow. You have a lot of names. I bet everyone in the East Blue knows who you are." Luffy said impressed but his words earned a gasp from the audience confusing the four of them.
"What did you just say?" Buggy deadpanned.
Luffy, none the wiser, repeats "Just that everyone knows who you are-"
"Nose?!" Buggy exclaims rushing to clasp Luffy's face in his hand, squeezing. The clown's crew step forward, holding their weapons, looking weirdly intimidating. "Are you making fun of my nose?"
Y/N, despite the dangerous situation, was baffled for a moment. She subtly regards Buggy's nose. Was that actually his real nose?? Oh, it was. Woah.
"Well… I wasn’t. But now that you mention it, is that thing for real?" Luffy lifts a hand to touch the clown's nose but he quickly slaps it away, making the audience gasp.
"What’s real is I’ve been scheming for months," The clown pushes Luffy away, and Y/N who was just behind him manages to catch him. She turns as Buggy stands in front of Nami, "To steal that map from old Axe-Hand Moron…"
"Eh?" He waits for an acknowledgement or reaction from the orange-haired girl but when he realises he is getting none he waves a dismissive hand and turns back to the others. "…only to find out that I was upstaged by four little nobodies, who stole it from right out under my no- No! It’s in my head now."
"Ah!" Buggy groans with exasperation moving away. "
"Hey, I’m not a nobody," Luffy said, once again successfully gaining the clown pirate's attention. "I’m Monkey D. Luffy. And I will be King of the Pirates."
Y/N had to give it to Luffy. His determination was so outstanding that even in such a dire situation it wouldn't break, however, she couldn't decide yet if it was stupidity or courage.
Buggy lets out a laugh, "Oh! Now that’s funny."
One of his crew members holds up a sign, forcing the audience to laugh. Well, that's depressing, can't imagine being a clown and having to force people to laugh.
Buggy motions for the laughing to halt. He moves, looking in between them as he speaks;
"My bounty poster graces the marquee of every Marine outpost for miles. And my menagerie of outcasts and freaks is the most dreaded pirate crew the East Blue has ever known. I am destined to find the One Piece. And when I do… I will be king."
"No, you won’t, ’cause I’m gonna find it first." Luffy contradicted the clown.
It's stupidity, Y/N decided.
"You?" Buggy scoffs, "Don’t make me laugh."
One crew member holds the sign again, and the audience laughs but they are soon yelled at to stop.
"I said don’t make me laugh!!!"
"All right, listen up. I’m Roronoa Zoro," Zoro spoke up, loud enough to gather everyone's attention. He turns to face Buggy and his crew. "Drop your weapons now and I may let you live."
Y/N has half a mind to yell at him asking what the fuck he was doing. Did he honestly think he could fight against all of these pirates? He doesn't even have his swords.
Buggy stares for a moment before letting out a mocking laugh. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have a celebrity in our midst."Ladies and gentlemen, we have a celebrity in our midst. Too bad I hate sharing the spotlight."
The stage light went from them back to Buggy.
"Now, maybe we should skip right to the finale," The clown pulls out his weapon. A very intimidating metal sharp claws. "My freaks put quite a bit of rehearsal time into this little abduction. And if I can’t reward them with that map…" He moves to stand next to a man with sharp teeth. "I suppose I’ll have to offer them a pound of flesh instead."
Oh, shit. shit this. This is bad. Like BAD bad. Bad enough for her to manipulate her way out of it, but for that she'll need to get the clown alo-
"Wait. Wait." Nami was standing in front of them, looking to make some sort of negotiation with the clown. "What if I have something else to offer you? Something more valuable than the map?"
That seems to gather a newfound interest in the pirate, who looks at nami in expectation.
"What if I give you an entertainer, a singer, the best I've ever heard," Nami said casting a quick glance in her way. Y/N's heart plummeted. No, she couldn't be doing that to her. Her heart sank even lower when Buggy's gaze shifted towards her, his blue eyes gleaming when he caught her form.
"And a new freak for your crew?" Nami continues, forcing the clown to look away. She was slowly moving next to Luffy, "A rare talent. The most spectacular act in all of the East Blue. Besides you, of course."
"Go on."
Nami takes Luffy's hat prompting a shout from the boy, she tosses it up into the air making Luffy use his devil fruit abilities and stretch his arm up high to catch the hat. And then, Nami was gone.
"Go after her," Buggy told one of his crew members who quickly ran after the orange-haired girl. He chuckles, looking at Luffy. He pulls out an apple from his pocket and a knife. "Well, isn't this just interesting?"
Y/N felt a surge of protest rising within her, a desire to shout out against the unfolding situation. Yet, she found herself engulfed in a sense of hopelessness, a feeling all too familiar from her past experiences. She knew well the torment of being confined within the hold of a pirate.
"It's fine," she whispered to herself, trying to muster some semblance of reassurance. I'll… I'll be fine. Despite her inner turmoil, she clung to a last resort—a secret move, a tactic she had saved for dire circumstances. All she needed was to find a moment alone with Buggy.
They soon bring a struggling Nami and a part of her is happy they did another part of her is annoyed she sells them out and still fails to escape.
"What did you do? What did you do to their town? You destroyed everything!" Nami exclaimed in anger.
As he ate the apple, Buggy nonchalantly replied, "Not everything. I let ’em keep their hands."
The signs were up again and the audience clapped in command.
"Okay," The clown throws away the remains of the apple and puts the knife back into his coat. "Here end the theatrics."
Suddenly, the lights flickered and dimmed until they focused solely on Buggy's figure, casting an eerie glow around him. His voice cut through the darkness with a sharp edge.
"I know one of you has my map," he declared, his tone laced with determination. "And I'm gonna get it back. What was it you said, Rubber Boy? That it was in a safe place?"
The tension in the air heightened as everyone present awaited Buggy's next move.
"Don’t look so surprised. I’ve got eyes and ears everywhere," Buggy told the four of them with a smile, "So, please make our guests uncomfortable in the green room."
As two pirates seized Y/N from behind, she instinctively struggled against their grasp, her heart pounding in her chest. Nami too fought against her captors, but Zoro remained passive, seemingly indifferent to their plight. Just as they were about to drag Y/N away, the clown intervened.
"Not her," Buggy's voice commanded, halting the pirates in their tracks. They obediently turned Y/N to face their captain, whose blue eyes bore into her with a curious intensity. He closed the distance between them, his presence looming over her.
"Just for you, beautiful," Buggy addressed her, a smirk playing on his lips, "I'm willing to share my spotlight for a few moments and let you sing for us while my 'freaks' prepare the things for my chat with my stretchy new pal."
"Why would I?" Y/N retorted, summoning whatever semblance of courage she could muster to meet the clown's gaze. Ignoring the pirates that were dragging Luffy to sit with the audience. "I only sing when I have something to sing for…"
"Funny you think you have a choice," Buggy chuckled mischievously, his tone dripping with amusement, the sign was up so, naturally the audience laughed as well. He sauntered over to a high chair, resembling a throne, and settled into it with an air of superiority.
"Well, it's either that," he continued, gesturing towards Y/N, "or off with you. Though," he added with a smirk, "it'll be a shame to harm such a pretty girl like yourself."
His words hung in the air, a thinly veiled threat that left Y/N feeling trapped and vulnerable, caught between compliance and defiance.
Despite the overwhelming intimidation, Y/N took a moment to steady her breathing and gather her resolve. Nami was right about one thing – she was an entertainer, a performer. With that realization, a flicker of determination ignited within her.
With a deep breath, Y/N straightened her posture and let a confident smile grace her lips. She could do this. She could fake her charm, her confidence. After all, she had faced tough crowds before. This was just another performance, albeit under much more dire circumstances.
Y/N flashed a charming grin at Buggy, exuding confidence as the impromptu show began.
"Well, darling," she purred, her voice dripping with charisma, "lucky for you, I happen to have had my heart stomped a few days ago. You don't happen to have a guitar lying around, do you?"
Buggy's grin widened, and with a casual wave of his hand, a guitar was swiftly presented to her. As the rest of the crew dispersed, leaving her alone in the spotlight, Buggy's voice carried a warning tone.
"Don't make me regret giving you a share of my spotlight, sweetheart," he cautioned, his words tinged with a hint of threat.
Y/N meets Buggy's warning with a playful glint in her eye, maintaining her charismatic demeanor.
"Oh, don't you worry, Captain," she replies smoothly, her voice dripping with charm. "I'll make sure to dazzle everyone enough to ensure you shine even brighter. After all, what's a spotlight without a little sparkle, right?"
Without missing a beat, Y/N pivots gracefully, turning her attention to the assembled audience with a grin that belies the tension of the situation. With ease, she addresses them as if they were any other crowd, temporarily forgetting the dire circumstances of their gathering.
"Well, well, well. Looks like we've got ourselves a full house, don't we?" she declares with a playful sparkle in her eyes, her voice projecting warmth and enthusiasm despite the unsettling circumstances.
"Ah, the joys of a heartbreak!" Y/N's grin takes on a mischievous edge as she continues, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
"As you may have heard," she begins, her tone dripping with theatrical flair, "some clueless boy managed to break this ol' heart of mine. But fear not, for in the face of heartache, what does a songbird do? Why, she writes a song, of course!"
Pausing for dramatic effect, she lets a playful wink slip before continuing, "Sadly, it seems our heartbreaker won't have the pleasure of hearing it. But don't worry, my captive audience, for you lucky souls get a front-row seat to the grand performance!"
Her words draw a ripple of shy, soft laughter from the crowd, turning this sombre moment into a somewhat of lighthearted affair. Her eyes meet Luffy's browns for a moment, he seems to pay her his all attention.
With a graceful motion, Y/N turns her attention to the guitar, her fingers deftly plucking a few strings. The sound resonates through the room, filling the air with a gentle melody that carries hints of both melancholy and resolve.
" When as a wanderer, your shore I did find,
Adrift, I found refuge in arms so kind,
We braved the tempest, each in our own fights,
You sought fortune in shadows, while I relied on my charms
I danced with the night, whispered secrets to the moon,
You chased after gold, while I sang my tune
We wanted to forget our woes and drown them in our wine
Then one day you vanished, claiming I was not divine,"
As she plays, her gaze flickers between the strings and the captivated audience, her expression a mix of concentration and subtle charisma. Each note she strikes seems to weave a tale of heartache and resilience, drawing the audience deeper into the performance with every strum.
I saw you at your lowest, in your darkest fight
I know the struggles hidden from plain sight
Too bad I'm the love you lost, the bond you breached
Now what'll you do, when I'm gone evermore?"
As Y/N finishes the song, a hush falls over the room, the echoes of her performance lingering in the air like a haunting melody. In that suspended moment, time seems to stand still, every eye in the room fixated on Buggy, waiting for his reaction, well, except for Luffy, he was the only one giving a standing ovation.
"Wooh, yeah!" Luffy claps, a smile on his face as he turns to one of the pirates holding him. "That's my musician,"
Y/N, however, ignore him and turn to Buggy.
Y/N meets his piercing blue gaze, searching for any hint of emotion within them, but finds his expression inscrutable, a mask of unreadable intent. There's a tension in the air, palpable and electric, as the weight of the silence stretches on, leaving everyone on edge.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Buggy breaks the silence with a slow, deliberate clap, his expression betraying nothing but a hint of amusement. It's a subtle gesture, but it breaks the tension in the room. The sign to clap was up but Y/N has a feeling they would've clapped regardless. It's a moment of relief for Y/N, who can't help but feel a sense of validation wash over her.
"It seems orange-hair was not lying, huh?" Buggy remarks, his tone carrying a hint of sardonic amusement. The cheers stop at his command.
Y/N lets out a forced chuckle, her lips curling into a wry smile as she meets Buggy's gaze.
"Well, what can I say?" she quips with a hint of playful sarcasm, "I did promise not to disappoint, didn't I? And trust me, darling, I always keep my promises, even when it involves serenading a bunch of pirates in a not-so-friendly setting."
Buggy's chuckle sends a shiver down Y/N's spine as he rises from his seat and advances towards her. Y/N fights to conceal the tremor of intimidation that courses through her, maintaining a facade of composure as he leans in to whisper.
"You could make a wonderful addition to my crew," he murmurs, his voice low and tinged with an air of intrigue. “Irreplaceable, even.”
While the idea of joining his crew fills her with trepidation and disgust, she knows better than to outright reject him, especially considering his unpredictable nature. Like most men.
With a steady gaze and a flicker of determination in her eyes, Y/N meets Buggy's gaze, her voice steady as she replies, "Well, Captain, it's certainly a tempting offer. But you'll have to forgive me if I take a moment to weigh my options. After all, I'm not one to jump ship without careful consideration."
Buggy regards her for a moment, then he smiles as he pulls back. His smile sends a shiver down Y/N's spine, but she maintains her facade of composure as he pulls back, granting her a temporary reprieve.
"Alright, I'll give you time to think it over…" he concedes, his tone deceptively genial.
Y/N's heart sinks as she watches him walk over to where Luffy is, a sinking feeling settling in her stomach. Before she can react, two pirates seize her again.
"Until he gives me my map, that is," Buggy adds casually, his words a stark reminder of the precarious position Y/N finds herself in.
As the pirates begin to drag her away, Y/N's heart pounds with a mixture of fear and determination. She casts a fleeting glance back at Luffy, a silent vow forming in her mind to find a way out of this predicament.
Soon, she was being tied down into a chair.
"Fuck you, Nami," Y/N spat out her frustration as soon as the pirates left them alone, her tone tinged with irritation. "Why would you do that?"
Inside her cage, Nami rolled her eyes in response. "It's survival of the fittest out here, Y/N," she retorted, her voice laced with resignation.
Y/N can't help but roll her eyes in return. She knows that in this cutthroat world, everyone looks out for themselves, but she had foolishly hoped for some semblance of a relationship with Nami only to be sorely disappointed.
"The least you could've done was actually manage to actually escape. You sold us in vain." Y/N chastised with a disapproving tsk.
"For what it's worth," Nami glanced towards the entrance of the crew's dressing rooms before skillfully picking the lock of her cage. "I am trying to get us out."
Y/N narrowed her eyes, unsure whether to trust Nami's words. Turning to Zoro, who was bound to a circular board nearby, she asked, "Do you believe her?"
"Don't have much of a choice," Zoro replies with a nonchalant shrug, just as a loud shout from outside makes them all snap their heads towards the entrance. It's Luffy's voice. "Better work faster."
As Y/N tries to free herself from the bounds, she realises that she's worried about Luffy because, despite his exasperating antics and seemingly reckless behaviour, she can't help but feel a pang of worry for him.
The bounds were tight but not enough to cut circulation just tight enough to leave burn marks when she moved them too much which she does.
Feeling the burn of the tight bounds against her skin, Y/N winced but pressed on, determined to free herself.
"That's only hurting you," Nami said sparing Y/N a glance before continuing to pick her lock.
Nami's words of caution brought a moment of pause, but Y/N couldn't afford to let fear hold her back. "I'll be fine,"
Nami rolls her eyes, then she glances at Zoro, he, too was trying to free himself.
 "What?" The boy asks.
Nami continues with her work, "This is my life now."
"You want to trade places?"
"Both of you shut up," There was a rustling sound just making its way to them, "Shit. Someone’s coming."
Nami stops her work and looks at the entrance. "I need more time. Keep them talking."
"I don’t talk." Zoro said, "I hit things."
"I'll do it," Y/N announced.
Seconds later, a pirate with a striking mix of black and white hair and a blue and white square pattern scarf bursts into the room, riding his monocycle with an air of undeniable flair. He comes to a stop right in front of Zoro, his gaze fixed firmly on the bound swordsman.
Y/N, who would have found the scene comical under different circumstances, straightens up, suppressing the urge to laugh. Instead, she puts on her best flirtatious grin and clears her throat, preparing to address the newcomer.
"Hey there, handsome," Y/N begins, her voice dripping with playful charm. "I bet your captain's got you on a tight leash, but do you think you could...?"
"Shut up, whore!" The pirate said not taking his eyes off Zoro.
Y/N's jaw was on the floor. Well, that came out of nowhere.
"I'm not an expert but I'm sure you don't talk to ladies like that," Zoro, ever nonchalant, unexpectedly comes to her defense, much to Y/N's surprise.
The pirate disregards Zoro and instead questions, "Remember me?"
"No. Must be some other homicidal, unicycle-riding clown." Zoro mocks.
Y/N flinches as the pirate with black and white hair delivers a punch to Zoro's stomach.
"I've been thinking about you for years," the pirate hisses, his voice dripping with resentment. "About how you killed my brother."
"I killed a lot of pirates." Zoro deadpanned.
The pirate, named Cabaji, scowls as he begins to recount their past encounter. "My name is Cabaji, and a couple of years back, you hunted us across the Goa Kingdom," he explains, pulling out two knives. ""Followed us for weeks through the swamp lands, day and night, never relenting, like some kind of demon."
The three of them shared a look. A silent understanding between them. This was it, the distraction. Cabaji glances at the two girls as he backs away from Zoro.
"Still not ringing a bell," Zoro remarks casually, prompting Cabaji to throw a knife dangerously close to his head.
"You cut off his head and you stuffed it in a bag, all for a few Berry." Cabaji accuses, his voice heavy with accusation.
Zoro sighs, briefly closing his eyes before conceding, "Okay, that does sound like me."
The air becomes thick with tension as the two men lock gazes, the looming threat of violence hanging between them.
"Let's see if you can keep your head," Cabaji declares, moving to the side of the circular structure and spinning it, taking Zoro along for the ride.
With each knife thrown, Y/N can't help but avert her eyes, unable to witness the imminent danger befalling the swordsman. As minutes tick by and Y/N finally dares to steal a glance at Zoro, she's taken aback by his unwavering composure. Despite the imminent threat of the spinning structure and the barrage of knives, Zoro remains eerily calm, his expression betraying no hint of fear or panic.
Watching him close his eyes and maintain his stoic demeanor in the face of danger, Y/N can't help but feel a surge of admiration mingled with astonishment. It shouldn't surprise her, knowing Zoro's reputation for unshakeable resolve, but somehow it does.
Y/N shifts her gaze to Nami, and in that brief exchange of eye contact, a silent understanding passes between them. She's close to opening the lock.
"You really don’t fear death, do you?" Cabaji asks after his tenth throw.
"No," Zoro said as the structure came to a halt, "I just don’t fear you."
Cabaji throws yet another knife before approaching Zoro "You know, I’m gonna enjoy this. As soon as Captain Buggy’s finished with you, you’re mine."
"Uh, tempting as that sounds, I’m not sticking around." Zoro slowly opens his eyes and focuses on the pirate.
"Really? Got somewhere else to be?"
"Didn’t used to think so. But Luffy changed that." Zoro said.
"That simpleton in a straw hat." Cabaji scoffs, "Don’t tell me you actually believe in him?"
"I don’t need to. He believes in himself." Zoro admits and shrugs, "It rubs off."
As Nami swiftly and silently cuts Y/N's bonds, relief floods through her as she rubs her sore wrists. With newfound freedom, she wastes no time positioning herself behind Cabaji, who is too engrossed in Zoro's words to notice her approach.
"And one more thing."
Cabaji continues to laugh as Zoro warns him.
"Don’t turn around."
In a split second, Y/N seizes the opportunity, delivering a powerful punch straight to Cabaji's nose. The force of the blow sends him staggering backwards. With Cabaji momentarily stunned, Zoro takes advantage, freeing one of his arms to grab hold of the pirate's throat, applying pressure with a steely grip while Nami frees his other arm.
"And by the way, you're brother's the whore," Y/N said to the Cabaji just moments before the pirate passed out.
"What's the plan?" Asks Zoro, retreating his swords.
Y/N takes hold of her war fans. "We go for Luffy,"
"Yeah but how?" Zoro turns to Nami, "You do have a plan, right? That’s your thing, plans."
"I say we beat the hell out of every clown we see." Nami declares, her eyes flickering between them mischievously as she brandishes her fighting stick.
Y/N chuckles in agreement, elegantly fanning her fans to reveal the gleaming blades within. "Well, isn't that a delightful idea," she quips with a smirk. "I've always had a knack for cutting through the foolery."
With a wink exchanged between Y/N and Zoro, a shared understanding passing between them, Zoro chuckles before they both follow Nami out.
As they navigate through the chaos of the circus tent, the trio encounters a shower of fools intent on blocking them. With a seamless display of skill and coordination, they engage the freaks in a fight.
Nami leads the charge, her fighting sticks a blur as she deflects incoming blows and delivers precise strikes. Each swing is calculated, each movement fluid and efficient as she exploits weaknesses in the clown's defences.
Beside her, Zoro moves with the grace of a great swordsman, his swords lethal as he cuts through the ranks of clowns with unmatched precision. His strikes are powerful and decisive, each blow landing with devastating force as he clears a path forward.
And Y/N adds her own flair to the fray, her fans flashing in the dim light of the tent as she gracefully dances between pirates. With a flick of her wrist, she spreads the fans, revealing the razor-sharp blades concealed within. Each movement is deliberate, and calculated, as she gracefully weaves through the chaos of the fight effortlessly dispatching any clown foolish enough to challenge her.
As they finally reach the main stage, Y/N's heart lurches at the sight before her. There, in the center of the stage, Luffy struggles against the confines of a tank filled with water. Memories flood Y/N's mind, images of a similar tank from her past flashing before her eyes with haunting clarity.
She tries to hold back a shudder as the familiar dread grips her, threatening to overwhelm her senses. The sight of Luffy, trapped and struggling, serves as a painful reminder, stirring emotions that she had long tried to bury but with a deep breath, Y/N pushes aside the memories, focusing instead on the task at hand.
With a swift and precise throw, Nami hurls her fighting stick towards the tank, the impact causing the glass to crack and splinter. Y/N watches with bated breath as the cracks spiderweb across the surface, spreading like veins of ice.
"Where are my freaks?" Buggy exclaimed looking around the circus.
Zoro appears on the other end, holding his two swords. "They're not coming,"
Finally, the tank gave way with a resounding crash. As the glass shatters, water gushes forth in a torrent, cascading to the ground in a rush of freedom letting Luffy out and soaking Buggy to the ground.
After he inhales some air, Luffy exhales the map. Ugh!
"My map!" Buggy crawls to the map.
Luffy, on the other hand, "My hat!"
Y/N turned her gaze towards the laughing clown, he took hold of the map while Luffy was hugging his hat. With careful steps, the trio approaches him.
"You want a piece of me?" The clown challenges them once he notices their approach. "Let’s see what you got."
Without hesitation, Zoro lunges forward, his sword slicing through the air with deadly precision. But to their astonishment, the clown doesn't fall. Instead, he splits into pieces, his laughter ringing out triumphantly as he effortlessly reassembles himself.
"Surprise, shithead!" Buggy crows with glee, his laughter echoing through the chaos.
Y/N, Zoro and Nami gather together as Buggy manically laughing starts to split himself into more pieces.
"What the hell?" Y/N yells as Buggy's body parts begin to fly around them.
Zoro's brow furrows in frustration as he watches the spectacle. "How do I slice a guy who's already in pieces?"
"This is not part of the plan," Nami grits her teeth, holding tightly to her fighting stick.
With a grunt of frustration, Y/N pushes away a stray hand that reaches for her, her mind racing as she tries to formulate a strategy amidst the chaos. "Yeah, no shit."
Despite their best efforts, the trio find themselves quickly overwhelmed by the onslaught of flying body parts. Zoro is slammed against the tank, Nami is hurled off the stage, and Y/N is sent crashing into a pile of crates, pain shooting through her side as she struggles to regain her footing amidst the chaos.
"Fuck," She hisses, placing a hand on the sore spot. She braces herself up watching as Buggy pulls out his metallic claws and slices himself again.
"Chop-Chop Cannon!!" His hands and arms start to rotate while his legs start to fly about in chaos.
Luffy does his best to dodge and punch and actually manages to reach Buggy but is soon pushed off him. The claws though, do manage to get Luffy's straw hat.
Buggy laughs and when Luffy goes to recollect his hat he is tripped and pushed to the ground.
Y/N's heart pounds with panic as she watches Buggy's hand find its way to Luffy's throat, threatening to choke the life out of him. In a desperate bid to save Luffy, she scans the area for anything that could aid them in their fight.
Then, like a bolt of lightning, inspiration strikes. With a quick glance at the crates nearby, Y/N's mind races with a plan.
"Luffy, Nami. The crates!" Y/N shouts, her voice cutting through the chaos as she rushes to one and flings it open.
With lightning-fast reflexes, Luffy manages to break free from Buggy's grasp, tearing the hand off his throat and hurling it towards Nami. Acting on instinct, Nami uses her fighting stick to send Buggy's hand hurtling towards the open crate, which Y/N swiftly closes, trapping the appendage inside.
One by one, the four of them began to trap the clown's body parts inside the boxes until only his head, hands and feet were all he had.
"What have you done to me?"
Luffy grins, "Cut you down to size."
"The One Piece will never be yours." Buggy all but growls in frustration. "You’re just a sad, lonely little boy wearing another man’s hat!"
"I know exactly who I am," Luffy puts on his straw hat and with his usual smile he turns to Buggy. "I am Monkey D. Luffy. And I’m gonna be King of the Pirates."
Y/N chuckles to herself. He really has an indomitable spirit.
Luffy stretches both his hands back, "Gum Gum…
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! No, no, no! Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait." Buggy pleads but Luffy is already spitting out.
"Bazooka!!"
And with a scream, Buggy's head is launched off the circus.
With a beaming smile, Luffy picks up the map and strides to the center of the stage, where Zoro, Y/N, and Nami are gathering. He extends the map towards the orange-haired girl, his expression filled with unwavering confidence.
"You're giving this to me?" Nami asks, her disbelief barely concealed beneath her facade of composure.
Luffy's grin widens. "You're the navigator," he replies simply, his faith in her abilities unwavering.
"Let's get out of this clown show," Zoro interjects, his tone tinged with impatience as he eagerly anticipates their departure.
Y/N nods in agreement, her hands deftly stowing away her fans back into her waistline. "Yeah, I've had my fill of this place,"
But Luffy's focus remains unwavering as he turns to address the others, his gaze sweeping over the captive audience.
"Still, there's one more thing we have to do," he declares, his eyes meeting those of his companions. "We have to set them free."
With determined hearts, they set about freeing the captive audience, their collective resolve aimed at bringing an end to the clown's tyranny.
"Are you our new captors?" an old man asks Luffy, his voice tinged with confusion.
Luffy tilts his head, a hint of bemusement in his expression. "What?"
"Well, you're a pirate, aren't you?" the old man persists, struggling to comprehend the act of kindness from someone associated with piracy.
"I'm a different kind of pirate," Luffy replies simply, his words carrying a weight of sincerity that belies his reputation.
Y/N shares a knowing glance with Luffy as she frees a child from his shackles, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Despite the odds, Luffy's unwavering determination and genuine compassion are beginning to win her over, gradually eroding her skepticism and replacing it with a newfound sense of admiration.
As they make their way through the town, the sun casts its warm rays upon the streets, a stark contrast to the wreckage left in the wake of Buggy's crew. Despite the devastation, a sense of relief fills the air as the townsfolk emerge from their hiding places, grateful to be free from the clutches of the circus from hell.
As Y/N walks alongside her companions towards their ship, she is greeted by a stream of townspeople, each one expressing their gratitude and admiration for her performance. Some approach her with heartfelt thanks, while others request the pleasure of hearing her sing again.
"We don't have much," the mayor of the town approaches them, offering a basket of food, "but please, take this as a token of our... of our gratitude."
Luffy shakes his head, a generous smile on his face. "You need it more than we do,"
Y/N wiggles her fingers in farewell as she follows Nami, Luffy, and Zoro to make their way back to their ship. As they approach, she notices Luffy darting back towards the mayor, returning for a piece of bread with a cheerful grin.
Once aboard the small ship, Y/N breathes a sigh of relief as she realizes all her belongings are still intact. With a sense of purpose, she joins Nami and Luffy in preparing the ship for their journey ahead.
Waving one last time to the shouting townsfolk, Y/N can't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over her. The warm farewells of the townsfolk echo in her ears, a reminder of the impact they've had on the lives of others.
A few minutes into their journey, Y/N sits next to Zoro with a tired sigh. The swordsman's eyes are closed and his arms are crossed, she gazes at the sundown, a pretty hue surrounding them- when was the last time she enjoyed a sunny day? Right with Cygnus, that feels like a lifetime ago...
"Hey, you need help with that?" Nami's voice cuts through the serenity, pulling Y/N's attention away from the mesmerizing sunset.
Luffy's puzzled frown prompts her to tense up momentarily as Nami reaches for his straw hat. But instead of causing harm, Nami begins to carefully repair it, her skilled hands weaving the threads with practised precision. Y/N can't help but reconsider her latest thoughts of the navigator as she watches her work.
"Why did you freak out?" Zoro's voice startles her out of her thoughts.
Y/N turns to face the boy, but his eyes are still closed. " What? When did I-"
"Back inside of the box," Zoro said, his voice ever raspy but silent as if he knew she didn't want the others to hear.
"Oh," Y/N blinks, she didn't think he'd notice that, yeah sure she was freaking out but they all were, weren't they? She clears her throat, trying to mask her discomfort as she reaches for her guitar, seeking comfort in its familiar presence. "It's nothing special, really."
"What does 'not again' mean then?" Zoro asks turning his head and opening his eyes to look at her.
Y/N fakes a grin, "I'm just not a fan of enclosed spaces, that's all, hot shot,"
Zoro stares at her for a moment and Y/N stares back. Some of the light of the day cast shadows on his face. She can't tell if he's convinced by her excuse or not. She hopes he is.
Thankfully her silent wishes are answered, Zoro closes his eyes again and turns to face forward. "You better not make any noise, I'm trying to rest,"
Y/N flashes Zoro a mischievous grin in response to his warning. "Noise? Oh, you have it all wrong, hot shot," she quips, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm. "I don't make noise, I compose symphonies of sound that would make even the sea itself dance to my tune but Don't worry, hot shot, I'll keep it down… unless you want to hear a little tune to lull you to sleep, I promise to find a lullaby you enjoy."
Zoro's lips twitch with amusement, and Y/N can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction.
"You fixed it," Y/N's head turns to see Luffy taking his hands from Nami with a smile. "Thanks."
"Well, you said it was your treasure, right?"
As Nami rises and heads towards the cabin, Y/N meets her gaze, and in that silent exchange, they share a moment of understanding. Any lingering tension between them dissipates, replaced by mutual respect and perhaps some camaraderie.
"Is every day gonna be this crazy with you?" Zoro's question breaks the silence, drawing Y/N's attention.
Luffy joins them, settling in front of them with a thoughtful expression. "Shanks always said… that if the path to what you want seems too easy… then you're on the wrong path."
Y/N nods in agreement, impressed by the insight of this mysterious Shanks character.
"Smart guy," she remarks, her curiosity piqued by the mention of someone who clearly holds significance in Luffy's life.
Zoro, ever the stoic swordsman, opens his eyes and nods in quiet contemplation. "Yeah, this Shanks guy sounds all right,"
Luffy's face breaks into a wide grin as he rises to his feet, his excitement palpable. With boundless energy, he dashes to the bow of the ship, his voice ringing out with unbridled enthusiasm.
"Next stop, the Grand Line!" he shouts, pointing a finger ahead towards the vast expanse of ocean that stretches out before them.
Shaking her head in amusement, Y/N feels a foreign surge of excitement coursing through her veins. With Luffy at the helm, she knows that her days with him, as long as they may be, will be anything but dull. The question is, will they be dangerous or not.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Lots of love, be safe.
Divider by @cafekitsune
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menlove · 5 months
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[image id: an ask from @harbingerofskulls that reads: "im gonna b real i only knew the jerking off i would love to hear you elaborate more if you want to go on the whole situation" /end id]
answering here so i can save as a draft without risking the ask disappearing bc tumblr's been doing that lately but
oh god </3 for everyone else- it's talking about this post. sooo i'm gonna go through each one bc i've been feeling insane for several weeks. i'll do my best to cite my sources lmao
i don't know (johnny johnny)
this is referring to this unreleased VERY early beatles track from 1960. the audio quality is absolute shit & as such unfortunately people love to put words to it that don't make much sense in either direction (i.e a lot of mclennon fans want to hear "you're in love with me" and a lot of people that hate mclennon will just make up the weirdest lyrics that make 0 sense so it's Not Gay). some of the lyrics that ARE clear make it obvious this song is about the two of them running away together- at one point i'm fairly certain paul says "how am i gonna tell my father that we're leaving town?" probably referring to them leaving to hamburg. which would be fine but some of the other lyrics areeeee..... very..... Hm. like multiple times paul refers to john as "my boy" and there's bits of them talking about not knowing what to tell their friends & wanting to just run off together alone. if i were the other members of the band having to record this i would have killed them with hammers <3 also the entire end is just paul going "oh johnny" like 1 million times. okay. sure. also since the lyrics ARE so garbled i mean i guess people could be right about it saying "how am i gonna tell my father you're in love with me" but i just don't hear it. still, a very gay song about running off together and getting away from everything and everyone, complete with moaning the other's name </3
2. paris
this one is a huge part of McLennon Fandom Lore lmao but for good reason. not citing sources on all this bc it's one of those that's just Fact & can be found in like any beatles biography or thebeatlesbible.com (my savior) but. for john's 21st birthday, he got 100 pounds from a rich relative. instead of taking his girlfriend or any of his other friends, he decided to use the money to take paul to spain. but they stopped in paris on the way and just decided to stay there. which i mean like. taking your best friend over your girlfriend to the city of love is a little weird but it's not THAT weird. it's everything else that makes people want to chew glass about it. including some of the other things on this list. like this audio of john just goofing around singing about paris and paul, with such hits as "my cheri, my pau pau my pau paul." which is :| okay best friend. and paul has this picture hung up in his house that he took of john sleeping in paris. okay. sure. why not. (although ig there's some doubt about if the photo is from paris? either way it's a picture paul took and has framed in his house which is incriminating enough my man). also NOT in the original post but may pang, a woman john had a brief affair with in the 70s, wrote a book called loving john. in it, there's this quote:
After a late lunch, Linda launched into a long paean to the joys of living in England. When she was finished, she turned to John and said, “Don’t you miss England?”
“Frankly,” John replied, “I miss Paris.”
okay! also in an interview once he said:
The thing was all the kissing and the holding that was going on in Paris. And it was so romantic, just to be there and see them, even though I was twenty-one and sort of not romantic. But I really loved it, the way the people would just stand under a tree kissing; and they weren’t mauling at each other, they were just kissing.
(interview with david scheff for playboy in september 1980)
3. if i fell
this one i already made an insane post on that started my spiral into posting about the beatles publicly </3 but, essentially, the song "if i fell" by john is..... well it's most likely about paul. he said it wasn't about his wife but that it was auto-biographical and he never really had any public affairs that weren't flings, certainly not a lover. but most damning is he wrote the complete lyrics for the first time on a valentine's day card addressed "to paul with love" with some hearts and arrows pointing to where the lyrics were written. absolutely insane. made me insane.
4. oh! darling
rawest paul song of all time if i do say so myself lmao. but it's just.... Highly Suspicious, that's what it is. a Lot of beatles fans/historians will admit this song is most likely about john but they won't admit that it's fucking romantic if it is. like.
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like that is so blatantly romantic idk what to say other than that. also, in the official recording on abbey road, there's Several points where paul says "darling" that sound more like he's saying "johnny" which is what he called him. people brush it off by saying it's his accent, but there's a very clear difference between when he's saying "darling" and when he's saying "johnny". i mean the Lore behind this is that it was written right when things were splitting up between them (& the rest of the band) so it makes sense and it's why most people are willing to accept it's about john. it's just insane to me that they'll accept it's about john without considering the implications of that.
5. the real life demo
this one made me want to light myself on fire i won't lie to you. but here it is! john had a song called "real love" and this is a very early demo of it. but instead of the lyrics that came to actually be in the song (which are thought to be about yoko but let's not get into the fact that it was on a tape labeled "for paul" but whatever), it includes john fucking crying as he sings saying:
"was i just dreaming or was it only yesterday? i used to hold you in my arms. and now a baby and another on the way... la la la la farm..."
which can quite literally be about no one else but paul, as this demo was recorded when he'd just had two children with his wife linda and linda was pregnant with their third child. they'd moved to a farm in scotland. hearing this audio clip did genuinely make me want to lie down in the dirt for a week. also "i used to hold you in my arms" just... yeah. god. when people think it was unrequited idk what to say, really.
6. If Paul Were A Woman-
shoving these two together but. in april of 85, paul said in an interview about john and yoko's relationship:
"I mean, I couldn’t stand in the way of someone who’d fallen in love. You can’t say, 'Who’s this?' You can’t really do that. If I was a girl, maybe I could go out and…"
okay bestie <3 and what would make your relationship different if you were a woman? interesting! and yoko had something similar to say. in this audio, she says:
"I’m sure that if he had been a woman or something, he would have been a great threat – because there’s something definitely very strong between John and Paul."
just reminds me of being a kid and telling my best friends "if i were a boy i'd date you" lol. incredible. does anyone here know about bisexuality.
7. stuart!
not much to say here except that john had a best friend, stu sutcliffe, who died young & before that had been the bassist in the band. paul fucking hated him sooo much oh he SEETHED. a lot has been written on that relationship but it was.... very interesting to say the least. it could have just been about the band, or just jealousy over john's friendship, but take that with a lot of john biographers suspecting john had feelings/even a sexual relationship with stuart and it paints a very Interesting picture to say the least
8. john's bisexuality
here's a compilation of quotes about it, but john was more than likely bisexual. which has nothing to do w paul, really, but more to do against people that like to claim they were both Heterosexual Men. although an interesting quote in this compilation is him saying he's "had paul" lmfao
9. paul's post-beatles work
there's just.... there is so so so much here i don't even know where to begin. @ringompreg has a good compilation of paul songs here. a lot of them do take a bit of Lore but like..... it comes down to the fact that both him and john have/had admitted many times to using their lyrics during The Breakup Years to talk to/reference each other and sooooo many of these lyrics are insanely blatant. the two i mentioned were tug of war and let me roll it, both of which are acknowledged to be about john by most people WITH NO ONE BOTHERING TO ACKNOWLEDGE THE IMPLICATIONS OF THAT which..... tug of war has this:
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we could stand on top of the mountain with our flag unfurled? dancing to a beat played on a different drum? this is what gaylors think gaylor conspiracy is but paul mccartney is really out here saying this shit.
and let me roll it is so fucking blatantly romantic but every reviewer is like haha! what a cool song that's "making fun" of john and clearly in his style! like are straight people stupid genuinely. anyway:
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bonus to that but about JOHN'S solo work :)))))) he wrote a song called "watching the wheels" and when you consider he very much responded to MANY of paul's solo stuff it's :)
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which as a response to let me roll it would just be... so devestating but it may be a stretch idk if i'm onto anything there it's just worth Mentioning
and there's a lot of others, a lot of them in that post up there. like far too many where paul mentions falling in love with a friend like Alright.
10. paul's first lsd trip with john/"i know" "i know"
this one is less blatantly romantic but it is just insane. here's an article. and a quote from george martin about it. the first time paul tripped on acid w john was bc john accidentally took some and he took him home & then took acid w him bc he didn't want john to be alone on the trip :( but, notably:
"And we looked into each other’s eyes, the eye contact thing we used to do, which is fairly mind-boggling. You dissolve into each other. But that’s what we did, round about that time, that’s what we did a lot," the singer recalled, "And it was amazing. You’re looking into each other’s eyes and you would want to look away, but you wouldn’t, and you could see yourself in the other person. It was a very freaky experience and I was totally blown away."
he also apparently saw john as the, and i quote, "emperor of eternity" during this trip??????? okay
SOMEWHERE i can't find it rn and i'm getting lazy but somewhere they (i think paul?) talk about the fact that they used to just stare into each other's eyes and then say "i know" "i know" which. considering john's song "i know (i know)" makes me crazy
11. in my life/i will
these are really just some devastating songs with lyrics that make you really raise your eyebrows. for in my life, written by john, it's just an incredibly romantic & sweet song that is again, not about his wife. given that the lennon estate is still out here posting pictures of paul to those lyrics i have to say it's a liiiiittle suspicious. and i will is...... it's one that paul insists is not about his girlfriend at the time, jane asher. and when you look at the lyrics vs how him and john met.... like. the song goes:
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and the story of how they met was that paul saw john repeatedly before they ever met, when he didn't know who john was other than that he thought he looked cool & admired his sideburns (lmfao). and when they did finally meet, it was when john was singing at a garden fete (party) and paul was in the crowd just Mesmerized. so. well. you can see.... you can see how fitting that is. makes me crazy makes me want to chew glass actually
12. "we were each other's intimates" and other insane quotes
"we were each other's intimates" is a paul quote about john which is just insane but that's not even the tip of the iceberg. here's a ton of quote compilations.
13. "literally everything else"/honorable mentions
some honorable mentions go out to: john going on stage w elton john & playing i saw her standing there and introducing it as "a song by an estranged fiance of mine" okay! the "just like starting over" demos. okay! which isn't even to MENTION the fact that paul locked himself away in the studio listening to "just like starting over" on repeat for DAYS after john died like???? john saying repeatedly that he considered paul & yoko to be his two major partners in life including in an interview the literal day he died. a whole ass rpf movie where they kiss & talk like they're ex-lovers and dance in central park (two of us) made by the same dude that made the let it be movie like. he knew them personally? he worked with them closely? and the only thing paul had to say about it was just essentially that it was what he wished would've happened like???????? i can't find a super reliable source for this so take it w a grain of salt, but apparently paul referred to mclennon fanfiction as "beautiful stories" and doesn't mind them being written. paul also had a cat that had kittens & he named two of the kittens pyramus and thisbe after fictional lovers he and john played and he gave pyramus (the character paul played) to john :|
and literally so much else like all of this and it's not even all of it. it's not even close to all of it. i didn't even get to talk about the way in "get back" the documentary, paul started talking about john leaving the band for yoko and how john would choose her over them and then he got teary eyed, started choke laughing, and then started singing "build me up buttercup" before looking at the cameras and stopping. what the FUCK was that about! IT'S NOT EVEN GETTING INTO THE SONG "TWO OF US" THAT'S SO OBVIOUSLY ABOUT JOHN THAT IT HURTS. it's. it's not even scratching the surface. they were just genuinely insane about each other.
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