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aiai0 · 3 months ago

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-please, please, please, let me get what I want-

Syn: reader notices that Sanji never flirts with her and can’t help but feel jealous whenever he shows affection towards Nami and Robin, a little silent treatment wouldnt hurt, right?

(Teeny weenie moment of smut but nothing too detailed)

A single sigh left your yearning lips.

You could physically feel your heart sob every time you had the unfortunate experience of becoming a witness to another one of Sanji's flirty moods.

Of course, these moods were never directed towards you. Never ever.

You sat beside Franky, eyebrow twitching and bottom lip tucked between your teeth. Franky knew about your feelings.

Ever since you had joined the crew, you couldn't help but adore everything about the blonde cook.

He was cute, he was sweet and he went above and beyond to protect the crew.

Especially Nami and Robin. He’d of course protect you too but he’d never go to the same lengths.

Why? Why couldn't he just channel a bit of that flirtatious energy, that you so clearly wanted, to you?

"I don't get it.." you mumbled, crossing your arms and legs as you leaned against the railing of the ship, squinting your eyes at Sanji, who was serving Nami a cold drink with hearts in his eyes.

Of course he'd go crazy at the sight of her in a bikini, with the sun complimenting her smooth skin.

"Why don't you just tell him how you feel?" Franky questioned, strumming his small pink guitar.

Rolling your eyes, you lightly punched his shoulder. He didn't get it. Sanji would just shoot you down. It was obvious he didn't like you in that way, why else would he ignore you in such a way?

"Sanji only likes pretty girls like Nami and Robin-"

"What are you talking about? You're suuuuuper hot!" Franky interrupted, earning a giggle out of you.

"Sanji doesn't see that though." You groaned, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Just cut him off, lord knows I’m trying to.” Zoro chimed in, grumbling as his eyes remained shut and his arms crossed with his three swords at his side.

You were about to scold him, but something clicked in your head. It all made sense.

“Yes! I’ll give him the silent treatment!” You jumped up, feeling a mischievous plot forming in your mind.

“Oh boy..” Frankly mumbled.

"Nami-swaaaan! Where are you going?!" You heard Snaji call out, practically skipping after the woman.

You loved Nami, she was like a dear sister to you, but you couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy in your heart.

She knew you liked him too. To be honest, you were sure all the strawhats, except Sanji, and possibly luffy, knew of your feelings. It was painfully obvious.

"Nami-swaan! Robin-chwaann! God, give me a break." You mocked him, pouting a little.

Zoro chuckled at your reaction, although he was sleeping. What a truly odd man.

Later into that night, you laid awake in your bed, fighting back the angry and annoyed tears that seemed to constantly threaten to spill. It was like he consumed your mind, almost every minute of every day. You found yourself daydreaming of the reality that could be.

You hated it so much.

You hated how much you wanted him, and how much he meant to you. But you were certain the feeling wasn’t mutual.

Sighing, you got up and left your room, trudging towards the kitchen in your oversized off-the-shoulder t-shirt and no bottom. You were too frustrated and annoyed to even care about anyone seeing you in your panties. Hell, Franky walked around in his constantly.

You just hoped it wouldn't be Brook who saw you.

To your surprise, the kitchen was lit up, and a faint humming was heard from behind the door. You peeked in through the circular window, spotting the blonde cook still doing today's dishes and wiping down the table and counter.

He was so dedicated to his job as the crew's cook, it made your heart skip a beat.

But this wasn't the time to swoon over his charms.

You were going to give him the silent treatment. Give him a taste of what it felt like to be you.

Entering the kitchen, you kept a stoic expression and went straight for the alcohol cabinet, ignoring the guy who greeted you.

"What are you doing up so late?" He asked, keeping his eyes glued to the dish filled sink. You slightly hoped he'd glance your way, see your revealing state and actually see you in a different light.

You took multiple big swigs from one of Zoro's bottles, careless for the consequences that awaited this decision.

You craved the burn and the buzz, something you stopped yourself from feeling ever since you joined the crew. If you were going to be a strawhat, you had to be vigilant and alert at all times, even if the others weren't.

But not tonight.

Tonight you wanted to drown your sorrows within the delightful liquid.

"(Y/n)? What's gotten into you?" Sanji came up from behind you, snatching the bottle away and handing you a glass of water.

"Hey! why can I be the only one who doesn't drink?" You whined, refusing the glass of cold water.

He had some nerve trying to worry about you now after practically ignoring you for so long.

"Because you don't drink. Somethings wrong with you. What's up?" He pressed on, determined to get to the bottom of your odd behaviour.

Those eyes. You couldn't take your eyes away from his.

The way he looked down at you made you feel cared for. It put you in a trance, a spell that you felt would never wash away.

"I don't have to tell you anything, eyebrows." You replied, turning your head away from him. You wanted to get back to your room as fast as possible and bury yourself away from everything.

"Wha- eyebrows?!" He yelled, taking a step back from you to pout.

You, in turn, stuck your tongue out at him, quickly snatching the bottle away from his disappointed grasp.

You seemed like you were joking, and maybe it was the alcohol that had heightened your emotions, but you couldn't shake the ache in your heart. You felt like, with a single word from him, you'd crash and bawl your eyes out.

It seemed silly, and maybe a little childish, but seeing the man you wanted, so much, flirt and dote over the girls you already thought were prettier than you, hurt.

It hurt more than words could explain.

Sanji took you by the hand, leading you to sit down at the dining table, sitting next to you with concern. You hadn't realise it yet, but he was wiping the tears you didn't even know were spilling.

"C'mon, what's wrong?" He asked again, his voice soft and gentle as he took a seat next to you.

You bit your tongue, maybe right now would be the best time to give him the cold shoulder, show him you were upset with him.

Smacking his hand away, you took in a deep breathe

"I don't need to explain anything to you."

There was a moment of silence, and for a split second, you swore you saw a flicker of anger within those blue eyes of his. Your repeated words seemed to strike annoyance within him.

You refused to look at him. You didn't want to. Acting like you were mad at him made you feel bad beyond explanation. Especially when he stared at you with such a disappointed look.

"I just want to help you, (Y/n)." He finally broke the silence, returning the warmth of his hand back up to your cheek that you so harshly slapped away.

Making eye contact, you leaned into his touch, placing your hand over his and closing your eyes before finally getting out the words you've always wanted to ask him,

"Do you... find me attractive..?"

You could feel him tense up. A bad sign.

Oh god. Did he really think you were that ugly..?

Trying your hardest not to jump to conclusions, you waited for him to speak. Waited for him to clear your worries.

But he never did.

You fidgeted with the end of your shirt, feeling so embarrassed and slightly annoyed.

"Attractive? Do I find you attractive?" He repeated your question in a hushed tone that made it seem like it was the most ridiculous question in the world.

"I can't even begin to explain how I see you, (Y/n). Every time you walk into a room, it lights up. Every time you smile at me, my day becomes infinitely better. And you ask me if I find you attractive?" He laughed, covering the lower half of his face with his hand.

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. Was he really saying these words? Words that you’ve longed to hear since the beginning of your pirate journey?

"I'd pick you in a room filled with women,” he took in a deep breath, “I pick you, (Y/n)." He finished, his face now inches away from yours.

"Seeing you like this.. I don't think I can keep my hands to myself anymore."

Without missing a beat, his lips connected with yours, exchanging hungry and sloppy kisses, his hands gripping your waist and sitting you down on his lap as he mumbled a 'c'mere' into the make out.

You felt your body heat up, begging for more contact. You needed him. Your hands tangled into his blonde hair, running out of air but never distancing yourself from him.

You had imagined this moment since you joined the crew, and now that it was actually happening, it felt like a surreal dream.

His hands knew exactly where to find themselves, massaging your thighs, to gripping your hips, to squeezing your ass.

You instinctively rubbed your core against the tent that had quickly formed in his pants, needy for more attention.

Sanji pulled away, a grin stretched across his face,

“As much as I want to fuck you on moss-head’s chair, let’s go back to my room.” He purred, face now buried in the crook of your neck.

Giggling, you nodded your head, “oui, monsieur.”

#black leg sanji #vinsmoke sanji #one piece #sanji x reader #one piece x reader #anime fanfic #anime #roronoa zoro #franky #cyborg franky #nico robin #nami

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woso-dreamzzz · 11 months ago

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Teenage Dirtbag

Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Teen!Reader

Summary: Ingrid just doesn't understand you

Mapi had never met you before.

She's met the rest of the Engen family. She's met the family pets. But you'd never been around she visited with Ingrid, like your family had put you as far away as possible when she met them.

Like you were something to be ashamed of.

It's a bit of a bad first impression to make when you're shipped from your boarding school, back home and then straight over to Spain to live with her and Ingrid.

She doesn't even get to introduce herself before Ingrid's laying into you.

"Again?" She demands as soon as you're safely in the back seat of the car," Expelled...again?"

"It's not a big deal," You mutter, slouching in your seat and pulling your hood over your head.

"Not a big deal...Not a big deal?! You've been kicked out of school! You've been kicked out of the house! Oh, but it's not a big deal?!"

Mapi's never seen Ingrid so angry before but you're taking it like a champ, looking out the window and generally ignoring your sister even as she snaps at you.

"Are you done?" You ask in the most bored tone you can manage.

Ingrid takes a breath. "Ye-" She catches sight of you in the rear view mirror and whips around to face you. "Is that a hickey?!"

"Do we have to do this?" You groan," You ask me if I've got a hickey. I give you an answer you don't like. You yell. Can we just skip to the bit after you scold me?"

Ingrid's practically bubbling in rage sitting in the passenger seat and Mapi's left scrambling trying to diffuse the tension.

"So..." She says eventually," You like football?" It's a weak redirection but it gets an amused scoff out of Ingrid as she rolls her eyes.

"I'm not into exercising willingly," Is your answer," It's alright from a distance. Even better when a girl's doing it."

Ingrid groans louder now and swats at your knees but it's teasing and it's like all of her anger from earlier has melted away. "Don't," She says warningly though a hint of amusement is still present in her voice," There'll be none of that here. You're here to focus and to study and to better your grades."

You send her a lopsided smile. "How am I supposed to improve perfection?"

It's that evening after you've retreated to your room that Ingrid is left in a slump over your grades and your truancy records.

"I don't get it," She says to Mapi," She misses almost every class but she has perfect marks. It's like she doesn't even have to try."

Mapi shrugs. "Maybe she doesn't," Is her response," Some people just get school better than others. To be honest, if it's this easy then that's probably why she never turns up."

"And the hickies?"

"She's hormonal?" Mapi doesn't really have an answer to that as she's handed your transcript.

"And this?"

Ingrid slides Mapi a picture. It's of one of this out buildings that every school has that they swear is temporary but never go unused.

"That's..."

Mapi stares at the side of the building. She stares at the colours on the wall, at the way they weave expertly in and out of each other. She stares at the shading and the light.

"I know," Ingrid says, her face all scrunched up and Mapi gets the idea that they're not on the same page.

"It's brilliant."

"It's disrespectful."

They both spoke at the same time. They exchange a confused look with each other before turning their gazes back to study the picture.

It's clearly spray paint, the mural that you've done on the side of one of your school buildings. Usually, Mapi would see tags on railway lines out of spray paint. But, somehow, your mural is hyper realistic (Mapi would even go so far as to say photorealistic).

It's...Well Mapi doesn't quite have the words to explain it.

"I'd love to see what she could do with a pencil."

"Mapi!" Ingrid hisses," Don't encourage her!"

"No, no," Mapi backtracks quickly," I get it, totally. She shouldn't have done it there. It's wrong and it's bad but Ingrid! Look at it! People dream of having talent like that!"

For the entire night and the coming days after, Mapi thinks about the mural you did it on your school.

She ends up asking Ingrid for your Instagram during the lunch break at training. Ingrid gives it to her with a confused look.

"If you're going to use it to try and work out where this behaviour is coming from, it's useless," Ingrid says with a defeated sigh," I've already gone through it all."

That wasn't what Mapi was planning to do at all so she just offers Ingrid a little smile and a promise to see what she could find. To her disappointment, no more of your artwork has been posted on your main account.

She scrolls through your following list, all the way to the bottom, to find an account that she's positive is your secret one. Its username is a bunch of random letters followed by dot-art and its profile picture is the mural on the side of your school building.

Mapi feels like she's hit the jackpot as she scrolls through it (feeling pleased with herself when she notices a bunch of your school friends follow this account too so it must be you). You've got hundreds of posts up, detailing murals you've done around your hometown and your school. There's a few still life drawings and a huge oil paint piece on a massive canvas. There's an image of a drawing that's clearly done in pen on someone's arm.

It's photorealistic just like your spray paint piece and, if you were older, Mapi would probably beg you to be her tattoo artist.

When she and Ingrid get back to the house, you're napping at the kitchen table.

Ingrid swears under her breath, rousing you from your sleep. "I told you to do your school work," She says.

You shrug. "I did." You shove your notepad towards her. "It's not my fault that it's not difficult."

"You've done the bare minimum."

You shrug. "I'm not into doing more than I have to."

The tension in the air is practically electric as you both stare each other down.

"Lose the attitude," Ingrid says," I'm trying to help you here. Mum and Dad won't let you back home until you clean your act up."

You mutter something under your breath and Ingrid goes rigid.

"Don't say that!" She snaps," They want what's best for you! We want what's best for you!"

"They want what's best for them!" You snap back. In the few weeks that Mapi's known you, you're the most laidback teenager she's ever met. You've never once really bit back at Ingrid, no matter how hard she pushed you.

Ingrid's tough love had seemed to be working. You napped regularly, yes, but you got all of your schoolwork done. You don't come home with hickeys and no strange murals have appeared in Barcelona by your hands.

She must have hit a sore spot for you.

"You're smart," Ingrid says," You're so smart and I don't understand why you don't apply yourself more! If you worked properly, you could graduate early and be at university already!"

"There's nothing at university that interests me," You mutter," It's a waste of time."

"It's not a waste of time!" Ingrid retorts," What are you going to do when you finish school, huh? Do you even have a plan?!"

Mapi sees your eyes dart to where your sketchpad sits a few feet away. She can see the cogs turning in your head.

You stay silent.

Ingrid sighs, hands clenched into two shaking fists. "I love you," She says," But you need to get yourself together." She shoves your papers right back at you.

"I've already finished it!"

"You've done the bare minimum." She swipes your sketchbook off of the table. "Sit down. Do it properly."

"Give it back!"

Ingrid's tall and, even though she's your sister, she's still tall enough to hold your book over her head so you can't reach it. "You get it back when you do your work properly."

"Give it!"

"No!"

"Ingrid, hand it over!"

"Do your work!"

"Urgh! I hate you!"

"Well, too bad. Because I love you!"

You slump into the seat with a scream that makes Mapi's ears ring a bit but you grab your pen and start on your schoolwork again.

"Come on," Mapi says softly, drawing Ingrid into their bedroom and shutting the door.

Ingrid throws your sketchbook onto the bed and paces, pulling at her hair in frustration.

"What-What did she say?" Mapi asks, her mind playing that moment when Ingrid went stiff over and over again.

"She said that she wished Mum and Dad got rid of her when they had the chance...you know...when she was..."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh." Ingrid groans. "I-I just don't understand her! She's so smart! She has her pick of everywhere! Mum and Dad can get her into medical school! It's like she has no ambition!"

Mapi types into her phone. "Have you considered that, maybe, going to medical school and university isn't exactly for her? I mean, you went straight into football."

Ingrid sighs, the tension draining somewhat from her body. "Mapi...It's different. I had a passion for football even when I was younger. I practiced every day. I knew what I wanted."

"She practices something every day," Mapi replies," And she's so good at it. Honestly, Ingrid, it's a little annoying that you and your family haven't noticed."

She turns her phone around, to a post on your secret Instagram account. It's tagged as a city a few hours away from your old boarding school.

On the side of a crumbling house is a spray paint mural of Norway's women's team. It's got everyone on it, photorealistic like all of your other murals. Ingrid's in the middle though, beaming a smile that you can see reaches her eyes.

"What?" The real Ingrid asks, brow furrowed.

"Your sister did that," Mapi says," She's done a lot of them." She grabs your sketchbook and flicks though it. You'd shown her all of your pieces a few days ago when she asked to see them. "Ingrid, she's so good."

Ingrid flips through your book. There's pencil drawings in there. There's watercolour and acrylic and oil. There's a pastel study of your cat back home and an inked version of Bagheera. There's a stunning piece in charcoal of you and Ingrid when you were younger.

Her fingers hover over your squishy baby cheeks, like she could reach into the picture and touch them.

The next few pages have pictures of your own arm with tattoo designs wrapping around them.

"Ingrid, she's so talented," Mapi says," And, yeah, maybe she shouldn't skip class or leave her work to the last minute but she's found something she's passionate about and loves. How would you feel if your parents didn't support you in your football and made you go to medical school?"

Ingrid wipes the tears out of her eyes when she flicks to the last picture you've drawn. It was from last week, when she rewarded you for doing all your work before the weekend with ice cream. You had taken a picture with Mapi and Ingrid, tongue poking out and cheeks pressed together.

You've replicated it perfectly on the page and scrawled a little heart at the bottom along with your signature.

"Jona...Jona said they're looking for someone to do a mural on the back wall of the Johan Cruyff," She says eventually, flipping the book closed," We...Er...We..."

"I'll call Jona," Mapi assures her," Go and save your sister from work she's already finished."

Like Mapi said, you've already finished all of your work and you're sitting stubbornly at the kitchen table, rolling a piece of lint between your fingers.

You're taken completely off guard when Ingrid pulls you in for a hug. Usually, it takes an hour or two for her to calm down after yelling at you.

"I love you," She says as she pulls away, cradling your face as tears run down her face," I love you so much."

"Ingrid? What's going on?"

"I love you," She says," And I want what's best for you. If you promise me that you'll try just a bit harder in school then I swear, I'll make everything better."

"Seriously, you're freaking me out here. What's going on?"

Map appears over Ingrid's shoulder with a dopey smile. "You should thank your sister. She's just sorted you out with a job."

"A job? Ingrid, no offence, but you don't even like me out of your sight. I can barely get by in Spanish. You want me to get a job too?"

"The Estadi Johan Cruyff needs a mural done-"

"Several murals," Mapi cuts in.

"-And you're doing them."

You blink in shock before a grin splits your face wide open. "Seriously? Are you joking?"

"Keep trying hard," Ingrid says," And I'm sure me and Mapi can sort you out with so much more."

#woso x reader #ingrid engen x reader #ingrid engen #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 5 months ago

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Hello. (Bingo) Can you write Dark Clark Kent and plus size female kryptoian reader ?

.⋆｡The Last of His Kind｡⋆.

Dark!Clark Kent x plus size reader

Clark is no stranger to loneliness, but a mysterious ship in the middle of the desert could be just the answer he’s been searching for

Warnings: kryptonian!reader, DARK FIC but more soft than my usual stuff, naive reader, kidnapping?, possessive!clark, no use of Y/N, future isolation and controlling behaviour WC: 1k

6k Follower Celebration Bingo

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

Clark had always been alone in the universe, an unfortunate consequence of his own people’s arrogance and willing ignorance of the happenings of the world around them. He didn’t mind so much as he had never experienced anything different but after Zod and the briefest of hints that he wasn’t the last, Clark felt a deep stirring in his chest.

He often caught himself staring off into the void between stars, wondering if there were others out there. But his duty was to Earth, he couldn’t just leave because of some slim hope that other Kryptonians lived on a far away planet. And even if there were, they could be like Zod- power hungry and cruel.

But on a cool day in late October, Clark got his chance to find out.

The office was almost empty, everyone having gone home early to beat the autumn storm that was predicted for later that evening, leaving Clark virtually alone in his block of cubicles. His article was almost done but he found himself picking it apart over and over again, like something deep in the recesses of his mind was telling him to delay returning home for as long as he could. Then, he heard it.

A heavy thud of something crashing into the earth, it had to be bigger than a meteor but far smaller than an airplane or weather balloon. Clark’s head tilted as he focused all of his senses to somewhere in the Sahara. The groan and pop of heated metal slowly cooling, the hiss of air escaping a pressurised chamber. He could smell gunpowder and dust that clung to the shell of whatever it was. But he could also hear the steady beat of something within the metal.

With a cautionary glance around the office, which was now absent of anyone save for him, Clark stood. He was careful enough to shut down his computer and gather his things but as soon as his bag was zipped and he was safely in the stairwell, he darted down the stairs, just barely keeping himself restrained enough not to go too fast and give himself away.

He could hear the beating slowly getting faster. He ran out of the building as the hissing ceased and the familiar turning of gears started, just like it had in the ship he discovered in the arctic. Clark stumbled over his work shoes, the buttons of his shirt practically flying off in his struggle to get out of them. If this was another Zod, he wouldn’t have much time to react before they started acclimating to Earth’s healthy sun.

His glasses were barely off his nose when he finally heard it, a soft groan- delicate, gentle (as much as a groan could be) and Clark’s heart skipped a beat. She let out another soft sound and Clark finally took off.

This could be it, the answer he needed so badly. Perhaps it was an elder who could really teach him about his home world, a child who had been lost just like him. But some deep part of his soul, a piece he had locked away a long time ago, wondered if it was someone his age, someone who would be his equal, his partner.

The sands of the Sahara quickly revealed a huge slash through the dunes, darkened by the heat of the ship’s dramatic entry. The ship itself was halfway buried in the sand, its black hull a stark contrast against the bright sand. Clark landed in front of its rounded end.

Steam curled around the dark metal but he barely had time to appraise the vessel before a mechanical clanging began and the sand around its side started to shift. Clark darted forwards as a panel lifted and the earth around it immediately began to spill inside. He grabbed at the open frame and tugged the ship free just as its occupant became visible.

She was beautiful.

Large curves highlighted by tight spandex-like material, the exact same as his suit. The symbol spread over her generous chest consisted of two overlapping circles, one that he didn’t recognise even after his father’s lessons. Clark felt like he couldn’t even breathe as he looked down at her body, everything about her was captivating, hypnotising, everything he had ever wanted. Her hair was pulled back and away from her face, allowing him to observe every blemish and mark of her skin in extraordinary detail. She was a goddess in its truest sense, an ethereal being in mortal form.

And when she finally opened her eyes, he was met with the most brilliant shade of e/c he had ever seen. Panic briefly flashed across her face before she saw his own house symbol and immediately relaxed, her expression more calm than he thought it should be in this situation.

“I’m Kal-El.” Her eyes sparkled in the strong rays of the sun as a small smile crept onto her face.

“Kal.” She repeated his name back to him in a voice far more pleasant than he had ever heard before. Her lips parted again but suddenly her body rocked forwards, as painful coughs rattled through her lungs. Clark swept her into his arms without thinking and pressed her to his chest. She limply clutched at his back as she continued to cough.

He flinched with each of her laboured inhales, his own chest burning with a rage he couldn’t explain. But what he did know was that no one else could know of her. Only god knew what would happen if any government found out about another Kryptonian, especially a female one. Lois and his mother would try to corrupt her mind, encouraging her to leave him.

He wouldn’t let that happen. He would never let himself be alone again.

He could protect her, mould her. She would be safe. No one would know of her existence, not until she knew who exactly she belonged to, the only person that she would ever be able to trust.

Clark smirked as he cupped her head gently, his thumb tracing the apple of her perfect cheek. Oh yes, she was absolutely perfect.

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klaus-littlestwolf · 1 year ago

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I am Yours, You are Mine -Aemond T.

This is an A/B/O fic. You have been warned.

Everyone knew, they had always known.

It wasn’t hard to figure out from what I assume, my mothers children are all boys with brown hair and brown eyes, I have white hair and purple eyes. Everyone knew my older brother Jace and my younger brothers Luke and Joffrey were Harwin Strongs children and just like that, everyone knew that I was the daughter of Daemon Targaryen.

Laenor hadn’t been able to give my mother a child and I looked nothing like him, Daemon however…I’m told I’m the spitting image of him. So while I am technically a bastard, I’m also full Targaryen, so I was never treated like it. I was born only 5 moons after Aemond was and therefore was raised with him in a way, as we grew up his older brother Aegon and my older brother Jace got close, at least closer than they were to us and Aemond got picked on a lot. He didn’t have a dragon, and while I didn’t either, everyone knew to leave me alone, whether it was because I was a girl or because I was Daemons daughter I don’t know. My father is the only current Targaryen Alpha in the world and that made people so much more terrified of him than they already were.

Most people in the world present as Betas, it’s normal and no one really thinks twice about it, an Alpha however is a blessing from the Gods. He will be stronger, and tougher, and defend your family better than a Beta can, at least that’s what people believe, an Alphas instincts being so much stronger than a Betas, the only presentation stronger still is an Omega, and an Omega is considered a blessing from the mother herself. Presentation happens around puberty but usually you can see certain traits in children to tell if they will be anything other than a Beta, my mother believes I will be an Omega because even with a father like Daemon I’m quiet and sweet, always the most submissive in the room which for a Princess is a good thing.

Aemond and I spent more and more time together as we got older, him being shunned from the group with his older brother and mine, along with Luke who followed them around like a puppy and didn’t mind getting pranked once in a while. Aemond was the smartest of all of them, he enjoyed learning, and training, but most of all, he had no dragon. Neither of our dragon eggs hatched and the both of us bonded over that, and I always tried to make my uncle feel better when they had been particularly cruel, like the day they gave him a pig instead of a dragon. We skipped dinner that night and sat together in the library for hours just talking. He was my best friend, and my closest ally in the world, we made promises to always be there for each other.

The promises of children never seem to last though…even if the children weren’t the ones to break them.

After Joffrey was born mother moved us back to Dragonstone, me kicking and screaming, clinging to my uncle who held me just as tightly until our mothers gave up. We had a small second of hope as I wrapped my arms around his neck and he held me to him so tightly it almost hurt. That’s when our mothers called for their guards and we were yanked apart harshly and I was carried all the way to the ship that would take us home.

We weren’t apart for long after that, my fathers wife dying in childbirth brought us back together for her funeral. As soon as I saw him I pulled away from Jace and ran to Aemond who held me close and breathed in my scent as I did his, it was a comfort that only we seemed to give each other. I stayed by his side holding his arm while everyone spoke about Laena, saying kind words about a women I barely knew while my “father” stood in the ocean below, crying for the Gods only know how long.

Aegon was with us for some time, watching the maids and being his normal vile self and eventually we were alone, speaking as if no time had passed at all. That moment as we sat on the steps talking would be one I regret for many years to come, watching Aemond as he gazed at Vhagar. I knew my uncle wanted a dragon, more than even I did and I told him he should go, as the sun went down and people filed inside to bed, I encouraged him to mount her while he had the chance. 2 hours later I was awoken to a knight running into my room to check on me and seeing I was in bed and fine. I followed him downstairs to my mothers relief, Luke was bleeding from the nose, Alicent was angry beyond belief and my uncle and best friend sat with a maester stitching his eye up. I moved to his side quickly, taking his hand in my own and holding it tightly, allowing him to squeeze it as he got stitched up and everyone continued screaming. I didn’t care for the politics, I didn’t care for the threats, or insults, only that my favorite person sat beside me maimed and my brothers had done it. I stayed by his side for the rest of the evening, even as the maester gave him milk of the poppy to be able to sleep, snuggling into his chest and feeling his arms around me as he slept soundly and all the while I felt sick to my stomach knowing that what Jace had said to me when I hugged my mother had been completely true… ‘This is all your fault’

I was taken from Aemond’s bed late in the morning, he had awoken to eat and been put back to sleep, all the while clinging to my hand. My mother took us home immediately, we went back to Dragonstone and so did Daemon who quickly married my mother as soon as Laenor passed.

Jace and Luke were quick to blame me for everything, knowing that I had encouraged Aemond to mount Vhagar, maybe if I hadn’t he would still have his eye and I wouldn’t have had to leave again. Maybe Rhaena wouldn’t despise me for “helping to steal her mothers dragon” even if I don’t believe you can have claim to a dragon if it hasn’t chosen you. Jace and Luke spent all their time with Baela and Rhaena and I was left alone, not wanting to be near my brothers to hear about how much they and Aemond despise me, how the only person I had ever truly loved besides my mother wouldn’t even write to me anymore no matter how many times I wrote him apologizing. My mother and father were the only people I ever spoke to anymore, Daemon practically claiming me as his own even if he couldn’t “officially” do that and I learned that being alone is better for everyone, especially once I presented. Jace, Luke, Baela and Rhaena had all presented as Betas as expected but I was “blessed” to a life as an Omega, suffering through my heats alone in a locked room, only maids to bring me food and try to relieve my pain which never worked.

I was 15 before I was truly blessed with anything in my life, out for a walk by myself, having escaped my guard and stumbling upon a dragon. The Grey Ghost was a name given to a shy, pale dragon, one I never hoped to even get a glimpse of in my life and I suddenly had, his eyes locked on mine as if waiting to see what I would do and so I reached into my bag to get the bread I brought with me and the fish I planned to cook on my little adventure, tossing them to him and watching as he snubbed the bread and ripped the fish apart. I had sat down on a boulder, watching as he ate, assuming this would be the only time I would ever see this elusive creature but it wasn’t. He had laid down to nap after eating and the next day he sat at the same spot as I brought him an even bigger fish. That went on for nearly 2 weeks of me bringing him food and talking to him before he approached me and allowed me to touch him, letting me mount him after that. I kept him away from the pits, away from everyone who only saw him when I went flying, knowing he was just as comfortable around people as I was, which was not at all. I even had all of my riding gear dyed as close to his color as I could, making it truly impossible for anyone, even another dragon rider to find us in a cloud bank. Daemon was impressed, believing it was a useful skill, especially for an Omega to be able to hide like that. Life continued on like that until Corlys’ injury, resulting in all of us needing to return to Kings Landing to fight for Luke’s inheritance. I was less than enthusiastic about going but my mother forced me onto the ship.

In Kings landing once again I was stuck with Jace and Luke as mother and Daemon wanted to go see Grandfather, forcing me to follow them to the training yard that I hadn’t seen since I was a small child. Everyone’s attention was on a fight in the center of the yard and I pushed between Jace and Luke to be able to see, seeing Criston Cole fighting a young man with an eye patch and knowing instantly that it’s Aemond, and that he is winning, dodging the mace repeatedly before his blade was at Cole’s throat and I ducked behind Jace and Luke, catching a very strong Alpha scent as I did and feeling my stomach twist into a knot.

‘Nephews. Have you come to train?’ He questioned and I knew they were no where close to as good as he is, he would kill them. They had continued training but not very much and Aemond is clearly quite passionate about it. ‘Niece, lovely to see you again…or smell you I should say, and what a lovely scent it is. Hmm?’ I blushed darkly, not moving from behind my brothers until Jace turned and pushed me to walk back the other way.

‘I would stay close if I were you sister, wouldn’t want to be alone with him, would you?’ Luke teased and I wanted desperately to strangle the cocky little bastard but the last time I had hit him I’d given him a black eye and made him cry like a bitch, mother made sure I knew Omegas should never be violent, especially when they’ve been trained by Daemon and could make a man feel emasculated enough to be murderous.

I sighed, rolling my eyes and following them inside, finding my room as quickly as I could and locking the doors. I sat on the windowsill and stared out over Kings Landing, seeing a dip in the clouds and knowing my dragon had followed us, it was a comfort in case I needed an escape and knowing my family, I definitely will.

I stayed in my room until my mother came to get me, walking all of us together down to the throne room where I stayed as close to my father as I could, feeling men’s eyes on me, flinching from one who leaned in to smell me making my father turn and glare down at him, the man moving to the other end of the room quickly. I held onto his belt as Otto Hightower spoke, feeling eyes on me and knowing Aemond was staring as well. That same Alpha scent was back and my stomach felt like it was quivering as the wonderful smell assaulted me. My attention was only drawn when the doors opened to reveal our grandfather looking rough…half dead honestly as he walked into the room, stumbling up to his throne, Daemon helping him as he dropped his crown and leaving me exposed with no one to hide behind until he came back. I watched on, thoroughly entertained as Vaemond shouted about Luke and Jace being bastards, and actually couldn’t contain my snort as Daemon cut off his head though as expected nothing happened to him and Luke keeps his inheritance.

‘Now, if we’re through with this useless event, I think we can-‘

‘Actually my King, if I may?’ Otto asked, approaching the throne and mumbling something to him quietly.

‘Are you sure? Rhaenyra! Why was I unaware of your daughter presenting as an Omega?’ The King asked and my blood ran cold, Daemon pushing me completely behind him.

‘She was not ready for every noble man in the kingdom to be vying for her hand Father, I was protecting my baby. I apologize if you think I’ve hidden it from you but that was never my intention.’ She explained.

‘My girl, this is wonderful! Otto is right, there’s no need for anyone to look for a husband when we have a perfect Targaryen Alpha right here. Honestly I always did believe Aemond and Y/n would end up marrying, they were so sweet when they were babes.’ I backed away from Daemon, moving around the crowd and moving towards the doors the maids use to get to the kitchen quickly. ‘My son, you will take Y/n as your wife, do you have any objections?’ The King asked and I waited a moment, waiting for him to start yelling, or begging to get out of it…but he didn’t.

‘It will be my honor Father. Thank you.’

‘Well then it is settled, there will be a wedding, right here tomorrow night-‘

‘Tomorrow?!’ My mother exclaimed.

‘I’m a sickly, old man Rhaenyra, I would like to witness their union before I pass on. You can afford me that, can you not?’ He questioned and I knew my mother would cave at that as I got to the door, pushing it open quietly.

‘Father, I would like to request one thing. Since it must be such a quick wedding, I would like to do it in the traditional Valyrian custom.’ Aemond asked and I took pause.

When we were children we discussed just this, we talked about how we would be married one day and I told Aemond that I wanted to do it right, in the old customs. Since the day I learned of the traditional wedding I thought it was beautiful and I wanted it more than anything, Aemond promising me the perfect wedding. The idea that he remembered and even cared enough to request such a thing brought tears to my eyes.

‘I don’t see why not, I leave it to my wife and daughter to sort out the details with the bride and groom.’ My mother and the queen? And they want me in the middle of that? Fuck no.

I turned, leaving out the door, quickly running down the corridor and into the kitchens which were busy making dinner, allowing me to run through quickly and out another side door. I just made it to the gardens and down the steps, hiding in the bushes when a guard rushed out after me. ‘Princess! Princess! Your mother demands your presence!’ He shouted, running into the garden while I crept out and down the side of the castle. One good thing about growing up in a castle, you learn how to get around quickly and unseen.

I looked up to the sky, hoping to see my dragon, knowing exactly what he looks like now that I’ve spent so many years by his side and on his back. ‘Come on Ghost! Where are you?’ I questioned, getting down the stairs to the front of the castle, peeking around the corner to see many guards and I quickly moved around the wall and past the gates to the plaines where I knew Vhagar rested by the water. I kept far away from the resting place of the nearly 2 centuries old dragon and whistled, seeing the grayish white color separate from the clouds and dive down towards the ground, landing just ahead of me and just as he nudged his giant head into me in greeting a voice stopped me.

‘Byka Zaldrīzes!’ I froze, knowing only my uncle had ever called me that. He had since we were kids and I was trying to comfort him when he was upset about not having a dragon. My child brain figured, I’m a Targaryen, I can be your dragon and it made him laugh so hard he couldn’t breathe. He called me Little Dragon ever since. ‘Where are you going to go?’ He asked, not yelling…not even seeming angry.

‘Home…’

‘Going home already, and I didn’t get a hello or a goodbye. I admit, I had hoped for a different reaction.’ He stepped closer, Ghost growling but not doing anything more as I shushed him to keep him calm. ‘You used to be excited by the prospect of us being married.’ That wonderful Alpha scent came over me again and I could no longer deny that it was him I was smelling, though deep down I knew it was. ‘You can’t even look at me?’ His voice held more emotion now, upset at the idea I couldn’t face him.

‘Please Aemond, please stop this? You don’t want to be married to me, there’s no point in whatever you’re doing…’ I told him, turning to face him and I couldn’t deny how beautiful he is. I had always found him cute but he had become incredibly handsome the past 9 years.

‘You dare tell me what I want? You?! After all of this time?! I have always wanted you Y/n and I always will, nothing will change that apart from you telling me you no longer love me and that my face is too much for you to accept as your Lord Husband.’ My eyes widened and I took an unintentional step forward.

‘Aemond, you are beautiful, you always have been! No scar changes that, and it could certainly not change the way I feel for you-‘

‘Then why do you run from me? Why have you spent 9 years not answering my letters? Why do you find it so hard to look me in the face? Why-‘

‘Because it’s my fault!’ I shouted, unable to take his questions anymore. ‘Because if I hadn’t encouraged you it wouldn’t have happened, no one would have fought, you wouldn’t have lost your eye! It’s my fault! And Jace and Luke, they tell me all the time and I don’t want to hear how much you hate me! I don’t want to hear you lie and tell me I ignored you, I wrote you every day for months! You never responded and I don’t think I can handle hearing how much you hate me Kepus…I can’t…’ the tears were now streaming down my face like crazy and as I reached to wipe them away he grabbed ahold of my wrists, forcing me to look at him.

‘You think I blame you?’ His voice was so soft it actually startled me. ‘Y/n…first of all I never got letters from you and I’m realizing you didn’t receive mine either which I’m assuming was your brothers but Gods Y/n! I have Never blamed you for that night!’ His face was so serious and hard I knew he wasn’t lying.

‘Never?’

‘Not for one second! You are the only one who gave me any kind of comfort, everyone else was either scared or angry, but you just held me. I loved you so much in that moment I thought my heart would explode! Waking up next to you in the morning, in so much pain, but you were there to make me feel better…then you were gone. My Little Dragon was gone and I couldn’t even speak to her, and now I come to find out you’re carrying guilt that has never been yours to hold! Your brother did that, not you, Luke! He chose to pick up that blade and slice my face, not you! And Vhagar was no one’s to claim, she chose me and I chose her, and yes you helped make me feel better about it but I was going to go to her no matter what you said…please let go of that guilt, my Princess?’ I nodded, sniffling as he let go of my arms and used his thumbs to wipe my eyes before leaning close and pressing his lips to mine. ‘You’re mine Byka Zaldrīzes, all mine!’ He swore, kissing me again, harder this time and pulling me flush against his chest. ‘My Little Dragon is going to be my wife, the mother of my children, my perfect little Omega…Fuck you smell amazing!’ He groaned, digging his face into my neck and inhaling deeply.

‘That’s enough!’ A deep voice shouted and Aemond jumped but I knew exactly who it was.

‘Father, you ruin everything.’ I teased and he just smiled as he got closer, Ghost rumbling in irritation at how many people are here now, seemingly willing to deal with my Alpha and that is all. ‘Did you take my letters?’ I asked and he instantly looked confused.

‘What?’

‘The letters I wrote Aemond, and the letters he wrote me, we never got them. Was it you? I am asking you despite the fact that you’re the least likely…I’m going to kill Jace…and Luke.’ I told him and he seemed irritated.

‘If they really did that, then they will be punished, I assure you. However right now, we need to get you back inside and help your mother plan a wedding.’ I hesitated but nodded my head, moving to follow Daemon and he turned to walk away as well just as I pulled away from Aemond and climbed onto Ghost.

‘Y/n, what are you doing?’ He laughed.

‘You think I’m going to mediate our mothers? Not gonna happen, by this time tomorrow we’ll be married or they’ll be dead, but I won’t be in the middle. Bye father!’ I shouted, hearing Ghost rumble. ‘Sovēs!’ I commanded before he leapt into the air and began climbing towards the clouds. ‘You saved my life, you know that?’ He screeched and I snorted. ‘Not really I suppose, but it wouldn’t have been fun…at all.’ We stayed like that, flying contently over the clouds for several minutes before Ghost seemed agitated and I turned to see the shadow of a large dragon above us causing me to push Ghost down before seeing Vhagar behind us, Aemond laughing while Ghost complained. ‘Not Funny Kepus!’ I shouted, diving after him as he turned to land on a nearby island.

‘I like it when you call me that, Princess.’ He told me as we both got our feet back on the ground.

‘Really? I would have thought you would hate it. My father does, it makes him feel Old when my mother uses it.’ I laughed and he just snorted, laying out his jacket for me to sit on so I could be comfortable.

‘He is nearly 20 years older than your mother, of course he hates it. When you say it, it just excites me.’

‘Hmm, well then I will refrain. Wouldn’t want to excite you too much, would we?’ I leaned into his side and he wrapped his arms around me, Vhagar laying down behind us and Ghost wanting to lay his head on my lap but I wouldn’t let him with Aemond here too.

‘I knew you would be a perfect little Omega, I just knew it. So perfect Y/n, and all mine.’ Aemond’s nose trailed through my hair and I loved the feeling.

‘Not yet Kepus, you need to wait to say that until we’re married-‘

‘Are you going to tell me that you belong to someone else, Omega? Because I will remove their organs.’ He threatened. ‘I’m already keeping myself from killing your brothers so save yourself more problems. If any man has dared put their hands on you-‘

‘Aemond!’ I exclaimed, laughing as he went on his tirade. ‘No one has touched me! Jace tried once when I went into heat the first time but I smacked him so hard his ears rang for a week. I love the possessive attitude but no one has touched me.’ I teased him, giggling as he trailed his nose over my scent gland, groaning.

‘Good, because I would’ve killed them. I told you before, you’re all mine Byka Zaldrīzes, Alphas pretty little Omega.’ His lips wrapped around my scent gland, sucking on my neck and making me cry out. ‘Oh, such sweet little sounds you make for me, my good girl.’ He teased, pushing me onto my back and laying over top of me, arm circling my waist. ‘I’ve waited so long to have you under me like this, to have to wait one more day is torture.’

‘You will survive Kepus, no one will keep us apart again…I am yours, and you are mine. Forever.’ I trailed my fingers up his jaw to his cheek and removed his eyepatch, dropping it to the ground and taking his face into my hands, his eyes closing as I held him.

‘Should they try, I will set this whole world on fire my love. No one will dare take you from me again.’ His voice was firm and fiery, every bit the Dragon that he was always meant to be.

As he leant down, I turned my head and let his lips touch my cheek. ‘We’re not yet married Aemond.’

‘Surely you can afford me a kiss, we will be married by this time tomorrow, don’t make me wait to kiss you one moment longer.’ I had to giggle at the way he made it seem like a life or death situation. ‘I had your first when we were only 8, I would have your last before you’re married.’ His fingers trailed over my cheek as I blushed a dark red before I leaned closer and felt his lips on mine. They were soft and warm as he held me close. I touched my fingers softly to the scar under his eye, hating that he had had to suffer so much pain and I couldn’t even be there for him, or even write to him. ‘I am sorry this is the face you must look at for the rest of our marriage, I-‘

I glared up at him and flicked his nose hard before he could finish speaking. ‘You will not speak ill of the man I love that way! Do you hear me? I care very little about a scar, I’m just sorry that I could not stop it.’

‘Little Dragon-‘

‘All this scar shows me is how strong and tough my husband is. It tells me that I will be safe in his arms and bed, and that our children will never know the feeling of danger…I love you Aemond.’ I could see the unshed tears in his eye that I knew he would never let fall and I pressed my lips to his again.

‘I love you Y/n. You are mine, and I am yours. ‘

For everyone who asked me for more Aemond content as well as those who asked for more Alpha/Omega fics.

I hope you liked it, cause I loved writing it!

Aemond T. Masterlist

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writingoddess1125 · 1 year ago

Text

Your Weird Relationship Milestones

Weird couple things that no one talks about that is a major milestone

Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Buggy, Mihawk x GNReader

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Luffy

You and Luffy had known each other since you were children and had also been dating since you joined his crew as the Ship Barber.

Truthfully it had been a fun journey and everyday you two got closer and closer- Just in your guys own unique way.

Today was no excpetion- After doing some basic training till noon you had skipped breakfast and was starving to rushed to the kitchen.

Walking over you saw lunch had already been made and almost the whole crew was there eating, looking over Luffy's massive plate in question to see what it on the menu- Seeing Cutlet sandwiches served with shredded cabbage.. you didn't like the recent cabbage that much.

"You didn't like the cabbage right?" Luffy questioned as if reading your mind- Nodding as he held up one of his plates to you to taste the cabbage to see if you wanted it The crew staring at you two in now total shock as you munched on a strand of cabbage and took a small bite of his sandwich.

"Ehh- Sandeich is good- But no cabbage" You hummed and Luffy nodded as he went back to inhaling his own food. Everyone watching as you went to get a plate- excluding the cabbage.

It wasn't till way later when you were half asleep cuddled against Luffy that the thought came to you- Did Monkey D Luffy just share his plate with you?

Zoro

It had been a normal morning- you waking up first to roll out of bed and start your morning routine, of course it starting in the bathroom.

Too zoned out to care since you and him shared a living space with a bathroom so you knew it could only be Zoro- As you brush your teeth you hear the sound of water and realize he was taking a piss, with you right there?

"What island are we going to today?" Zoro questioned, you trying to rack through your brain

"Errr- S'mi S'mi i'land I 'hink-" {Sumi Sumi Island I think} You say with the toothbrush still in your mouth- Zoro finishing and stepping to the sink.

You step to the side so he can wash his hands and he grabs the deodorant- like with all your products he seemed to use prefer yours so he puts yours on instead. You handing him his hair cream which he thanks quickly and smooth through his mossy locks-

"Want a cup or coffee? Normal fixings?" Zoro called out as he walked out of the bathroom.

"Mhm!" You hum out earning a grunt of approval and spit into the sink finally. Yawning again as you were now starting to wake up.

The realization of everything hitting you. Were you two that comforble with each other now!? It felt like some marry couple morning- your face heating up as you simmered on it..

Sanji

Being on a ship was nice, but it did have some downfalls- One being the bath situation. For some reason there was only one bathtub in the whole ship- So you had to travel from a hot bath across the entire ship to get to the room you shared with Sanji- Freezing your ass off the entire way and wrapped in the thinnest towel.

Finally in the room you shed the napkin like towel and look for something warm to wear- already starting to shiver.

"Sanji! did we do laundry?" You called, looking to see you were out of all pants and underwear- Tsking as it was a bit too cold tonight to go full natural in bed.

"Uhh No we didnt- why?" He asked as he stepped back into the room and saw you still naked as day looking through clothes- staring for a bit before Grinning.

"I think what you're wearing now is a perfect outfit" He chimed, you rolling your eyes looking back at your gawking boyfriend.

"Yeah well this outfit I can catch a cold- Remember we are getting close to the north and it's going to be freezing tonight!" You reminded and Sanji nodded in understanding before a thought crossed his mind.

Sanji sighed at this as he went to your guys shared closet- Returning with sweats and shirt in hand.

"These are my favorite pair- BE good to them" He said calmly as he held out the very nice sleep sweats you'd seem him wear multiple times- fairly sure these were the ones Zeff shipped out. Smiling as you gently took it from his hands and kissed his cheek- knowing these were going to be the best sleeping pajamas ever.

"I promise I will"

Buggy

Show business was never easy- It was a constant swirl of chaos. Especially on Buggy's ship. So it was nice to have some moments were you and Buggy could just relax, especially after a hectic day or shows and making money.

So here you both are, Showered, out of makeup and lounging on the couch in Bugs office.

You laid there with your legs across Buggy's lap as you two chatted, there were random times that you and Buggy would absolutely say nothing in terms of conversation but just wanted to hear the others voice. Buggys hands stroking your legs as he kept his eyes half closed.

"Your legs feel different?.." Buggy questioned, still running his hands over the exposed skin-

"I didn't shave them" He seemed to nod at this and finally look at your legs to indeed see they were indeed hairy still touching them-

"Eh still not as good as mine- It's like a damn blue carpet" He grumbled flexing his leg as if giving and example. However he noticed you hadn't replied and glanced- noticing your intense stare at him.

"(Y/N)?-"

Rolling up you sit on his lap facing him and look over his face, he looked at you confused as you did this- Watching how your eyes focused in something.

"Stay still.." You mumbled before touching his nose, he felt a soft pinch and then you pull back looking at your finger.

"You had a blackhead on your nose-" He say calmly and show it to him. He scrunched his face in disgust.

"Ew Thats fucking gross... See any others?" He questioned and you began to excavate his face and back of any blemishes still talking about nothing. Buggy's mind however running over the fact that for the first time in his life- he hadn't felt worried about his nose with someone..

Mihawk

Mihawk is a cautious person- so he is always on his guard and prepared for the worse case scenarios. That I clues you in the first few years of your guys relationship- While he trust you there is always some wall built up to protect himself.. You understand and let him take his time-

You didn't even really notice since how living he was towards you, however as time went on he did relax around you more. Got more comforble with you around and It wasn't till one night after a relaxing date and time together that you both tucked in. Mihawk had always claimed to be a light sleeper, laying on his back perfectly posed like a vampire ready to rise at any moment- the slightest movement waking him so you learned to be still when he tried to sleep. Reading a book quietly since you weren't quite ready for bed, dozing off for a good 30 minutes before you felt a slight shift from Mihawk assuming he was still awake till-

Zzzz!!! SNORT Zzzzz!!

Loud deep Snores suddently rattling the bed like a damn earthquake!

Startling you, turning to see the man laying in the bed next to you as you see his face unattractivly shoved into the side of a pillow, his hair a fluffed mess and him on his side in a deep sleep. You'd never seen him like this before, you didn't know it was even possible as you heard another thunderous snore leave the man. It taking everything in your body to not giggle as you closed your book and dimmed the light on your side of the bed. Cuddling down next to him as another wash of snores left him.

Smiling as you realize this ment he finally felt comforble enough around you to deeply sleep- in a true REM sleep for the first time in probably years. It made your heart flutter and you giggled softly- Defiently a milestone you were proud of.

Even if it ment the snores.

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hcsiqs · 6 months ago

Note

paige request!!! paige x reader inspired by slut! by taylor swift, maybe r is rlly famous on social media and similar to how tara yummy always gets called a bop for nothing, similar to that but in reality she’s a lover girl for paige 😽😽😽

| slut!

• pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader

• summary: after getting hate comments on your posts, paige finds you upset in your room she comforts you.

• warnings: angst (???)

• i used tara as the fc but picture how every you want to!!

ynln

liked by paigebueckers and 762,357 others

♡ ◯ ➤

ynln i love life !

————————

user1 Why does she always post her body…

user2 biggest bop of our generation

user3 paige needs to break up with her bc…

user4 Yeah no

user5 The second picture @paigebueckerss i wouldn’t let that slide personally

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You were sitting in your bed with your eyes glued to your phone as you scrolled through the comment section of your latest Instagram post. Everything inside of you wanted to peel your eyes away from the illuminated screen in front of you, but you couldn’t. You were reading hate comment after hate comment and it didn’t seem like you would be able to look anyway anytime soon.

Your mind didn’t skip over the fact that Paige had probably seen the comments and been getting tagged in videos of you acting like a bop, according to the internet. You couldn’t even begin to imagine what could possibly be going through Paige’s mind as she sees the comments and the videos, you just hoped that you would be able to inform her that none of it was true or all the videos are before the two of you got together, most of them being before you even knew one another.

You set your phone down and laid your head against the backboard of the bed as hot tears started to stream from your eyes, the sensation of the tears made your eyes seem like they were burning from the sudden water taking over them. Your fingers brushed against your cheeks as you tried to clean your face of any dried tears until you heard a notification ding from your phone.

[ynln] @paigebueckersfan1234 commented on your post!

Why is Paige with such a slut!

This just caused even more tears to spill from your eyes. You had no idea where people were even getting this information from. You had been on a cruise with Paige in the past week and were with her every second. Sure, maybe you had drank with some of your friends on the ship, with Paige there, but no photos were taken due to her wanting to keep her social media clean for her younger audience. Everything people were saying, just wasn’t true, and you hoped that Paige wouldn’t believe them.

You found yourself in the same cycle as earlier as you went finding more comments, almost like it was addicting, until the door to your guys shared room opened and a blonde basketball player walked in, “Baby, what’s wrong?” was the first thing she asked as she dropped her bags to the floor and quickly made her way to the bed to hold you in her arms.

You found yourself pulling away from Paige’s grasp, just disgusted with yourself and not finding yourself worthy to be in her arms due to all the rumors being spread, even though no part of them were true. “It’s not true, ya know?” your voice cracked, as your eyes were looking down at your hands in your lap. But, when you looked up you were met with Paige’s eyebrows bent up, showing a clear sign of confusion. “The comments and all the videos you’re being tagged in. The videos are before I even met you,” was all you could get out as you looked at your girlfriend sitting so beautifully in front of you.

“I know Y/N. I was literally with you on the cruise. Some jealous ass people aren’t gonna gaslight me into thinking that you did something you didn’t,” her hand found its way to your exposed arm as her fingers gently glided up and down it, trying to ease your worries.

“Thank you,” you rubbed the tears from your face as your lips pulled into a small smile and your eyes met her blue ones. Her hand reached up to cup your cheek as she pulled you into a soft kiss. Her lips were soft against yours, showing her pure and utter adoration for you. Paige’s hand moved to the back of your neck, causing all the small hairs there to stand up, as your body became filled with goosebumps.

When she pulled away, her forehead rested against your own, your proximity so close you could smell the shampoo she used from her recently washed hair. You were happy to have her here and be wrapped up in everything about her.

“Plus, I know you’re only a slut for me,” the blonde said, breaking the comfortable silence between you two.

“Paige!” you giggled, shoving her away from you jokingly.

“Too soon?”

“Yes”

allie’s corner.

i’m praying this isn’t absolute trash and i’m sorry if it is😭😭

#wnba #paige bueckers #uconn huskies #uconn wbb #paige bueckers x reader #paige x reader #paige buckets #uconn lives #uconn women’s basketball #uconn x reader #wlw post #fanfic #paige bueckers fanfiction

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persphonesorchid · 8 days ago

Text

Echoes Of Nebula - MYG

Summary: Some people say that soulmates are made of the same star, a part of each other, one and the same. Stars don’t live forever, Yoongi found, but they do burn forever.

Genre: Exes to lovers, angst, fluff

Word Count: 5.5k

Warning(s): I don't think there's any, but let me know if I've missed! Any mistakes are my own, I proofread this one (1) time 😭

Masterlist

Notes: Eep, hello! Here's this lil thing I've been working on! Also, Yoongi and Mc didn't end on bad terms, their separation was somewhat mutual and they're all good :)). Feedback is always appreciated and encouraged! Enjoy!

“Make sure to eat, okay?”

Snow swirls along the train tracks, following a gust as a train pulls into the station. There’s the bustle of people getting on and some getting off, bundled up warmly against the winter air. Some are going to see their families, some are taking a break from theirs. Some of them are stepping onto the train to never step foot in this town again. Some of them are just starting the first day of their adult lives.

Min Yoongi? He’s moving to Seoul.

Your hands tuck the ends of his scarf securely into his sweater, staring at him like you’re trying to memorize his face. Your tears make tracks against your cheeks and dry quickly in the cold.

Min Yoongi is breaking up with his girlfriend.

“Eat on time. And I don’t mean ramyeon because you’re too lazy to cook.” You sniffle, and Yoongi wipes under your eyes with his thumbs. His glove has a hole in it. Not that it matters much right now, he’s trying to get you to stop crying. “Sleep on time, not when the sun’s coming up.”

Min Yoongi is trying not to cry.

“Okay.” He holds you still because he’s trying to memorize your face. He’s got pictures, even the silly ones that he took and promised to delete, but they won’t compare. “I’m sorry.”

He must’ve apologised for the millionth time. He doesn’t know what else to say.

You nod, smile — sadly, tears on your waterline — and, “I understand.” for the millionth time.

He’s moving to Seoul, a long way away from Daegu.

A mixtape he made for shits and giggles took off and pulled him with it, and he has no choice but to follow. Your life is in this little town like a ship in a bottle and like a captain you’ll go down with it. You can’t follow.

You both talked about it for days, compromising, bargaining, but in the end, your lives are going separate ways.

Stars either explode or implode when they die, and Yoongi feel like the star you’re both made of has finally reached its end. It’s imploding, folding in on itself and pulling everything with it.

He has five minutes left to take you in, how the tears shine in your eyes despite his efforts, the string of the necklace he won you at a fair peeking from behind your scarf. The way you smile and your eyes squint, the way he could feel the chill of your hands through his gloves.

He wants to stay right here in this moment and never leave if it meant he could take you in for five minutes till eternity.

“Remember to...” His throat feels raw, but it’s because of the cold and definitely not because he’s crying. The lump in his throat makes it hard to swallow. He looks somewhere above your head to give himself a second, things like these are always hard for him. “Remember to dress for the weather.”

He squeezes your hands, takes a breath that he almost chokes on, and looks back at you. “Don’t skip meals. Get warm when you feel cold. Always carry an umbrella in July.”

Sometime later, Yoongi will wonder if the things he reminded you to do made much sense, if they mattered at all. Wonders if you’d actually remember. The umbrella one is really important; you always forget.

He sat where he could see you when his five minutes were up and eternity never came. Waving from behind a glass and missing the warmth of you and the sound of your voice. He watches you wipe your tears and smile big and you walk alongside the train when it pulls off and then you run, and then, Yoongi could no longer see you.

Min Yoongi broke up with his girlfriend and left her in the middle of winter chasing a train.

July is always rainy.

And every time it rains, Min Yoongi remembers the love he left in winter. He wonders if you remember to carry an umbrella. It’s been five years; he wonders if you remember him at all.

He watches the rain splash into puddles and listens to the patter against his umbrella. Seoul bustles on, indifferent to the weather, its crowds meandering through the mid-summer downpour. Despite the season’s warmth, a stray breeze slips past his collar and reminds him of colder days. He’s grateful his gloves no longer have holes.

He walks along the sidewalk, carried by the crowd’s flow without much thought.

There’s not much that he wishes for anymore, not much he can wish for when he’s got everything. He lives in a high rise, works at the top music production company. Sometimes it’s a bit hard being the most sought-after producer in Seoul. Life has been good; he can’t complain. That mixtape opened doors he thought he’d be knocking on forever, and he’s worked hard to keep them open.

Min Yoongi doesn’t need much of anything else.

But on days like this, when the wind is just a little chilly and the sky’s opened up and crying, he misses you.

Sometimes he looks back on that day and feel guilt. He knows it was just as hard for you as it was for him, the pain in your eyes that you smiled through.

For a while, he’d call you every night and update you, made sure that you were doing well. For a while, he’d keep up with you and made sure that you’re doing well. For a while, he’d call you every now and then, see if you’re doing well.

For a while, it had been a while and life, and then five years slinked on by.

Yoongi sighs, and there’s guilt in it. He got busy, as one gets being a producer in Seoul with a shit ton of expectations. He’s changed phones over the years, lost your contact, and he got busy.

Of course, he’s dated — mostly blind dates his friends set him up on — and he’s tried his best to push forward. There’s no point living in the past, he’s sure you’ve moved on and on by now. Sometimes he’s fine, and sometimes he’s back on that train station platform, wishing he’d begged you to come with him.

It would’ve been the selfish thing. It wouldn’t have been fair to you had he done that. When he got to Seoul, he’d buried himself so deep into his work he barely found himself. He would’ve dragged you out here, made you give up everything just to sit on the side-lines.

He misses you sometimes, anyways. He’s forgotten the sound of your laugh, but he still remembers the way your nose scrunches when you do. He’s forgotten the scent of your favourite perfume, but he remembers the way you lit up when he saved up and bought you a bottle forever ago.

Min Yoongi wonders if you remember him at all.

As Yoongi turns the corner, his umbrella catches a gust of wind and flips inside out. He fights with it for a moment before giving up, letting the rain soak his hair and the front of his jacket and jeans. He can’t help but laugh at the irony, standing there drenched, remembering the countless times he reminded you to carry an umbrella.

In the distance, he spots a small café and decides to seek shelter. The bell above the door jingles as he enters, and the warm, cozy atmosphere wraps around him like a comforting hug. He shakes off his umbrella – finally pulling it back down – and steps up to the counter, ordering a hot coffee to chase away the chill.

As he waits, his eyes wander around the café, taking in the rustic décor and the soft hum of conversation. A bulletin board on the wall catches his attention, filled with flyers and photos. His gaze lands on a familiar face, and his heart skips a beat.

It’s you. Your photo, smiling brightly, pinned among various advertisements and announcements. You’re standing next to a large canvas, looking proud. He steps closer, reading the caption beneath your picture: “Local Artist Exhibition - Featuring Works by ________.”

Yoongi’s mind races as he takes in the information. You’re here in Seoul, and you’ve been showcasing your art. A mix of emotions floods through him—relief, excitement, and a twinge of nervousness. He jots down the address of the gallery from the flyer without much thought and leaves without his coffee.

As Yoongi steps out into the rain, a million thoughts swirl through his mind, each one more turbulent than the last. He wonders why you never sought him out. Seoul is vast, but you’d known he was here, making waves in the music scene. Did you ever think about him? Did you ever miss him?

The realization hits him hard: he never knew you were doing art before he left. In all your conversations, all your late-night talks and shared dreams, you never mentioned a passion for painting. He feels a pang of guilt. Had he been so wrapped up in his own ambitions that he failed to notice yours? The thought stings, and he can't shake the feeling that he should have been there for your journey, supporting you the way you always supported him.

The gallery isn’t far, and soon he’s standing in front of it, his heart pounding in his chest. He takes a deep breath and pushes the door open, the sound of soft music and hushed voices greeting him. There’s quite a bit of people mingling about in quiet discussion, taking photos of the art mounted on the walls under ambient lighting.

Inside the gallery, he feels out of place. The walls, adorned with your art, are a testament to a part of your life he knows nothing about. Each piece is beautiful, but they also serve as a painful reminder of how much he’s missed. He wonders how many late nights you spent creating these, how many times you might have needed someone to share your successes and frustrations with.

Yoongi wanders through the gallery, the sound of soft music and hushed voices creating a backdrop to his thoughts. The rain outside has left him feeling introspective, and as he takes in the various pieces of art, he feels a strange mix of pride and sadness seeing how far you’ve come.

Each painting tells a story, each one a glimpse into your life over the past five years, a life he wasn’t a part of.

His gaze is drawn to a large canvas on the far wall. The colours are bold and dramatic, the brushstrokes chaotic and full of emotion. As he steps closer, he realizes with a jolt that the scene depicted is achingly familiar: a train station, snow swirling in the air, and two figures standing close together, wrapped in scarves and winter coats.

His breath catches in his throat as he takes in the details. The style is unmistakably expressionist, the exaggerated forms and vibrant colours capturing the raw emotion of that day. The figures are abstract, but he knows them instantly: one is you, and the other is him.

He remembers the way you tucked his scarf into his sweater, the tears that made tracks down your cheeks, and the way you both tried to memorize each other in those final moments. The painting captures all of it, the pain and the love, the sorrow and the hope.

Yoongi feels a lump in his throat as he stares at the piece. It’s a testament to your skill as an artist. He wonders how long you carried the weight of that moment, how many times you revisited it in your mind to create this masterpiece. He’s overwhelmed by a wave of emotions: regret, longing, and a deep, unspoken connection.

The title of the painting, written on a small plaque beside it, reads “Departure.” It’s fitting, he thinks, for the moment it captures, but also for the way it marks the beginning of your separate journeys.

As he stands there, lost in thought, he hears your voice nearby, and for a moment, he simply stands there. Your words meld together and he isn’t hearing much of what you’re saying, just the sound. His heart pounds against his ribs as your laugh — it sparks a memory and adds sound to the ones that were muted — bounces off the walls and around in his head.

He turns and sees you, in a corner, your back to him talking to a taller man, discussing a point of space where you’re standing. The sight of you, so vibrant and alive, sends a mixture of relief and nervousness fluttering around in Yoongi’s tummy.

Gathering his courage, he takes a step forward, then another, until he’s standing just a few feet away. You turn and startle, staring at him like he’s a ghost. There’s a brief moment of surprise — he gets it — and then you blink.

“Yoongi,” you breathe, and turning to the man next to you, you smile gently. “Taehyung...Can you give us a moment?”

The guy looks between you both for a second with a raised brow before he’s gone, walking off to some other part of the gallery. Yoongi’s mind is too occupied taking in the sight of you to wonder what that man’s presence may mean.

“Hi,” he replies, his voice soft and filled with all the words he’s wanted to say for years. Despite this, he doesn’t actually know what to say, he didn’t actually think this far ahead. He glances back at the painting of the train station platform, then back at you. “I saw your painting.”

You follow his gaze and nod, your smile tinged with a hint of sadness. “It was a significant moment for me. For both of us, I think.”

It’s a lot awkward, with him just standing there, not sure what to do with himself. You look the same, though now your hair is styled professionally and not the frizzy, wind swept mess it was when he last saw you.

There’s so much he wants to say but he feel like he doesn’t have enough words, or the right ones, so he takes it easy. “I saw a flyer...in a café. Um... It’s amazing...your work.”

“Thank you,” you say, your eyes reflecting a mixture of pride, nostalgia and a certain sadness. “I didn’t know you’d be here. It’s... good to see you.”

The conversation goes slowly, awkwardly. There are long pauses and nervous laughter, each of you trying to bridge the gap of five years with small talk about your art and his music.

“You’ve done well,” he says, gesturing to the paintings around you both. “I didn’t even know you were into art.”

You smile, the same just barely there sad smile from earlier. “It was something I started after you left. It helped me cope.”

“Oh...” His heart aches at the thought of you turning to art just to fill the void he left behind. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

You shake your head and shrug. “We both had our paths to follow. It’s just... life.”

He nods, but the guilt lingers. Life had taken you both in different directions, but he can’t help but wonder what might have been different if he had stayed, or if he had at least tried to stay in touch better.

Min Yoongi is an idiot and he’s always told himself so. He’s an idiot and he sucks at this sort of thing.

As the gallery starts to empty out, Yoongi looks at you, the rain pattering gently against the windows. There’s a part of him that wants to apologize, to make up for all the lost time, but he knows it’s not that simple.

“Do you have time for a coffee?” he asks, hope and uncertainty mingling in his eyes.

Your smile is a little hesitant, but you nod, “Sure.”

You excuse yourself to grab your jacket and an umbrella — you remembered, he smiles privately —, and then you talk to the man from earlier for a minute before Yoongi follows you out of the gallery and onto the wet street.

The walk is quiet, filled with the awkwardness of five years’ worth of missed everything’s, and Yoongi holds tight to the handle of his umbrella. There’s a confidence to your step as you weave your way through the crowd, head straight forward and not looking down at your feet like he remembers.

You’re not the girl he left on that platform five years ago just as he’s not the guy that left you there.

You walk back to the cafe he’d come from, and he realises that you’re probably a regular here. The barista behind the counter greets you with a smile and asks if you’re having your usual. You order a coffee and Yoongi asks the girl behind the counter to reheat the one he bought earlier, and the barista’s eyes dart between you both.

You lead him to a cozy corner table after the order was called, and as you settle in, the conversation starts up slowly again.

“How long have you been in Seoul?” Yoongi asks first, his voice a little hesitant, not sure if he’s allowed to ask.

“Almost three years now,” you reply, looking down at your coffee cup, the tiniest furrow between your brows. “It took a while, but I got settled.”

Yoongi takes a moment to observe you, trying to reconcile the person in front of him with the memories he’s held onto for the past five years. You don’t look much different, your hair’s in an up-do, your cheeks are a little fuller, but that’s as much as he notices.

The silence that rings between you both is louder than the other customers in the cafe. Yoongi can only imagine what this scene looks like to others; two people who are barely looking at each other, like awkward strangers forced to share a space.

His coffee is still hot, and it burns his tongue when he sips at it, but at least it’s given him a distraction. He steals glances at you, watching the way your eyes comb the cafe and avoid his gaze.

Unfortunately, Yoongi is naught but a man, and there’s a nagging sound at the back of his brain. It grows louder until he fidgets, the nerves of his free hand feel like they’re dancing and he takes a breath. He looks down at his coffee cup, glances at you and then back to the cup. Then, he asks a question that made him want to crawl out of his skin.

“So...that guy back at your gallery seemed nice...”

He knows it’s been five years, and a lot can change in that time. As toxic as it may sound, the thought of you moving on with someone else stirs a mix of emotions in him.

He knows he has no right to be upset if you’ve found happiness with someone else. It’s not his business anymore, not after all this time.

Still, the fear is there. He doesn’t want to admit how much it hurts to think of you with someone else. He can’t deny the pang of jealousy at the thought, but he tries his best to ignore it. He has no claim over you. You deserve to be happy, and if you’ve found that with someone, then he’s happy.

He sighs inwardly, pushing the thoughts aside. He wants to focus on the present, on the fact that you’re sitting in front of him right now. Whatever happens, he’s happy to be here, he hopes he can be a part of your life again of you let him, even if it’s only as a friend. He doesn’t want to ruin this, whatever it turns out to be.

You stare at him for a moment and Yoongi can’t tell what you’re thinking, “He is...he’s got an eye for art.”

Yoongi nods slowly, his fingers tracing the rim of his coffee cup. He hums softly, and now it’s his turn to pretend you’re not looking; he finds interest in the light fixtures above.

His next question sits on his tongue trying to pry past his teeth. He feels like a kid trying to find the right moment to ask his parents if he could go play outside. There’s a nervous churning in his tummy that isn’t at all pleasant. How does one ask their ex of five years if they’re seeing someone?

Yoongi imagines they’d just ask, out of curiosity, and get it out of the way. He could play it well. Maybe lean back into his seat and appear more casual before he says the stupid words. Maybe he could stop staring at the lights like a damn moth, and act like a being with a fully developed frontal lobe.

“Are you two...close? Or...you know...” He waves a hand and then lays it on the table. The sound of his ring knocking against it is kind of jarring, but it gives Yoongi an opportunity to look away again.

You make a quiet sound, and Yoongi finally meets your gaze. There’s amusement in your eyes, it’s obvious you’ve figured him out already — he wasn’t exactly being subtle. Which is unfortunate, because now Yoongi could feel embarrassment tapping on his shoulder.

You say nothing of it, even though he knows you want to. He could feel it.

“As close as business partners can be, I suppose.” You say, and Yoongi can see the beginning of a smile as you lift your coffee to hide it.

“Right...Sorry.” Yoongi says sheepishly, though, a weight lifts off his chest. As he looks at you, he notices something that makes his heart skip a beat.

You’re still wearing the necklace he got you all those years ago, the one he won for you at the fair. The twine that the little pendant hangs on looks worn, fraying a bit at some points, but you’re wearing it.

You kept it.

He clears his throat, the words he’s been holding back spilling out. “I’m sorry I lost touch. I got so busy, and then it felt like too much time had passed to reconnect. I lost your contact, and… I didn’t know how to find you again.”

You nod, your fingers brushing over the necklace like you sensed his gaze on it. “It’s okay. Life happened, for both of us.”

“But why didn’t you seek me out when you got to Seoul?” Yoongi asks, his voice soft, devoid of accusation; genuinely curious.

“I thought it would be for the best,” you say, equally as soft, staring into your coffee as though it would give you the words you’re looking for. “So much time had passed, and I didn’t want to disrupt your life. You were doing well.”

You look so sad when you say it that it almost breaks Yoongi’s heart.

“You know I wouldn’t have...” He wouldn’t have turned you away.

“I know, I just...” You sigh, your eyes dart somewhere to his left, and then back at him, “...I really missed you.”

Yoongi wants to reach out and take your hand so he does. Your fingers are warm from the coffee, squeezing his own, and tears beads at your waterline.

“I missed you too.” His gaze is soft and he knows it, but he doesn’t care because its you. You’re still you and he’s still him, and he misses you and the girl he left on that platform.

You’re both still made of the same star. It’s imploded but still glowing, and your necklace pendant catches the above head light.

His finger brushes over your knuckles, he stares at them, the shape and colour and all the little things about them that makes them a part of you. All that with his heart in his throat because he wants to ask something.

“Do you think…” His voice is barely a whisper, as if he’s afraid the wrong volume might shatter whatever delicate thread holds this moment together. “Do you think there’s a chance… that we could try again?”

You stare at him, your eyes wide, and he feels the subtle pressure of your fingers in his. He knows it’s a lot to ask, but the longing, the sense that maybe something beautiful can still be salvaged from the pieces, presses him to keep going.

Hope catches on the glint of your necklace pendant, and he clings to it.

“I don’t expect anything to happen right away. I just… I want to be in your life again, even if we start slow. No pressure, just… what feels right.”

You’re quiet for a moment, and then a soft smile curves your lips, almost as if you’ve been waiting for him to say something like this.

“We could try,” you murmur, the words tentative but filled with the same cautious hope Yoongi feels.

And from there, the pace is unhurried. You both ease into each other’s lives like rivers that find their way back to the same stream.

Some days Yoongi feels like he’s been whacked on the head with a giant stick. Anyone could tell by looking at him, when he’s got that stupid look on his face. Like he’s seen a goddess and she spared him a glance. He feels like he’s dreaming, and the last five years without you seem to blur.

He starts small, a text here and there; good morning and good night. Even if he’s busy he’d keep up with you, except when his work demands his focus. There are some days when you’d disappear, and Yoongi understands when you explain you’ve been in your studio for hours.

Your gallery isn’t far from his work, and as much as he could he’d go see you. He finds himself drawn to small gestures—bringing you lunch or a cup of coffee, or sometimes a sweet he thinks you might like. Each time he steps into the gallery with something for you, he feels a warmth settle in his chest.

It’s an excuse, he knows, to see you smile, to watch you light up at the thoughtfulness of it. And each time you look at him with that gentle, appreciative gaze, he feels his hope grow a little stronger.

You’d tell him all about your creative process, how you’d spin and weave what’s in your head onto a canvas. He’d listen attentively because he’s interested and he owes it to you. All those nights spent burning the midnight oil, steeping in his frustrations; you were there. You’d listen to him rant and cry when things weren’t working out the way he wanted.

He owed you much more than that.

He feels like he has to learn you all over again, which, in a sense, he does. Even if the bases of you are the same, there’s new facets. Little shards that fit into the mirror that reflects you, some pieces are a little dusty and worn with time and others are new and shiny. Yoongi has to take his time cleaning the old ones to see them again, and get used to the new ones that twinkle his eyes.

He invites you to his place for dinner, something simple and easy, and the conversation flows a lot better than it had a month before.

There’s no awkward sentences that cut off somewhere in the middle. Yoongi knows what to do with his hands and he has a better time looking you in the eye now. He feels a lot like he did back then, like a school boy taking his crush to meet his parents. His hands are a little sweaty, but the food is good and your eyes sparkle like they did back then, too.

You seem so sure, like you’re not worried one bit. Like you knew you’d meet him again and you’d be here in this moment; sipping on white wine – something new he’s learned – and chucking over stories set in the past.

The day he let a pet name slip was the day Yoongi wished a chasm would open up and swallow him. He had his excuse ready; the clock’s pushing one in the morning; he’s tired. The truth? It’s so easy to slip back into old ways, like nothing changed at all.

Like a smouldering fire in a hearth. It’s not quite out yet, and if you throw some sticks in there, they’ll catch.

After a while, on some sunny evening, Yoongi invited you to his studio.

“This is where I spend most of my time.” And he means that, letting you into his studio. There’s a blanket tossed haphazardly on the black couch that lines the wall near the door.

There’s day old take away coffee cups that never made it to the bin, cluttered in a designated spot. The bin he meant to empty is overflowing with scraps of paper and crushed takeout containers. That’s as far as the clutter goes. Though, Yoongi’s embarrassed now – he prides himself on keeping tidy. He wasn’t thinking when he asked you over, didn’t expect you to agree either.

So now he’s clearing up his desk and tying a knot on the waste bag. You make yourself comfortable on his couch like you’ve been there before, throwing the blanket over your lap as your eyes dart about to take everything in.

You’re impressed, he could tell by the gleam in your eyes and your little down turned smile. He’s come a long way from his old computer and MIDI.

“Its nice, cosy. Beats camping out in your bedroom.” You smile and Yoongi chuckles, nodding.

“Damn right.” He agrees, but he wouldn’t trade in those days for anything. Truthfully, he’s been here for three days, only going home to shower. Inspiration on an all time high and he’s just been riding the wave, you’ve been his muse for the past month. It isn’t the first time, at moments over the years gone you’d float into his mind like a mirage, and he’d get stuck on you.

He’s grateful for the break, though, there’s nothing much to do and he doesn’t want to bore you with rambling about what he’s working on. So he orders something, and lets a movie play on his laptop.

The clock ticks softly in the corner, its sound nearly drowned out by the hum of the desk lamp — he should really get that replaced. You’re still curled up on his couch despite the hour, the blanket pooled around your legs, your eyes scanning a painting on the wall he doesn’t remember hanging.

“It’s peaceful here,” you say, your voice quiet but steady, like you’re speaking directly to the heart of the room—and to him.

Yoongi glances up from the cluttered desk he’d been half-heartedly straightening; resorting his things because he can’t sit still. He watches the way you seem to belong in his space, your presence settling into the corners he never realized were empty. The faintest smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“You think so?” he asks, moving to lean against the edge of the desk. He crosses his arms, the soft light from the lamp catching on the fine lines of his face. “I always thought it was too chaotic.”

You turn your head, your gaze locking onto his. “Chaos can be beautiful. It just takes the right eyes to see it.”

The words settle between you, their weight both gentle and profound. Yoongi feels something inside him shift—a small piece of armour finally cracking and falling away.

He takes a step toward you, his hands slipping into his pockets, his expression tentative. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

You sit up a little straighter, tilting your head. “What is it?”

“Would you…” He hesitates, his fingers brushing against the edge of a USB drive in his pocket—the same drive that holds the tracks he’s been working on for weeks. “Would you let me write something for you? About you?”

Your surprise shows in the slight widening of your eyes, followed quickly by a soft, warm smile. “You already do that, don’t you?”

Yoongi chuckles under his breath, his gaze dropping to the floor for a moment. “Maybe,” he admits, with a small smile that meant more than he could say. “But this time, I want you to know it’s for you. No hiding it in metaphors or beats no one else understands. Just…you.”

You rise from the couch, the blanket slipping to the side as you close the small distance between you. Standing so close, Yoongi count all the things that make you you.

“Okay,” you say softly, your fingers brushing against his. “But only if you let me paint something for you, too.”

Yoongi takes your hand because he wants to, and his fingers make home in the spaces between yours. It feels like déjà vu and an epiphany all at once: five years ago you were this close and he was saying goodbye. His gloves had holes. Today...he’s saying hello again, and it feels like no time had gone by. And he kisses you now because he didn’t kiss you then, and you sigh into it like you’ve been waiting a lifetime.

Some people say that soulmates are made of the same star, apart of each other, one in the same. Stars don’t live forever, Yoongi found, but they do burn forever.

Tagging: @hoseoksluna @xpeachesncream @amon-rei @allhobbitstoisengard @euphoricfilter @madbutgloriouspond

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winxanity-ii · 2 months ago

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SECOND, SERVITUDE

ship: incubus!gojo x fem!virgin!reader (ft.geto) warnings: nsfw 🔞 (oral sex/f. receiving; handjob/m. recieving; coercion/dub-con?; p in v; overstimulation) word count: 5.0k a/n: 2nd part to my first KINKtober attempt: 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓, 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄.…

★·.·´🇯‌🇺‌🇯‌🇺‌🇹‌🇸‌🇺‌ 🇰‌🇦‌🇮‌🇸‌🇪‌🇳‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

It had been a few weeks since that night, and somehow, you had managed to push it to the back of your mind.

You kept yourself busy with schoolwork, study sessions with Megumi, and hanging out with Nobara. Whenever your mind dared to wander back to Satoru—the heat of his touch, the intensity of his eyes—you quickly forced yourself to focus on something else.

You couldn't afford to dwell on something so unreal, something that made your heart race and your skin tingle just from the memory.

No, it was easier to pretend it had never happened, easier to bury the experience under mundane routines and daily life.

But today was different. Today was your birthday, and Nobara had made it her personal mission to drag you out to celebrate.

You'd tried to protest, but she wasn't having any of it. By the time she was done with you, you were dressed in an outfit you never would have chosen for yourself: a short, tight leather mini skirt that hugged your hips and a tube top that left little to the imagination.

The fabric clung to your chest, and every time you looked in the mirror, you felt your face flush. But Nobara had insisted, claiming you looked "absolutely hot" and that you "had to show off a little for once."

The club was loud, the music pulsing through the floor and vibrating up your legs.

Nobara had led you straight to a booth near the back, ordering drinks before you could even settle in. She was in her element, already chatting up someone at the bar, leaving you to nurse a drink that tasted far too strong for your liking.

The lights were dim, neon colors flashing across the room, and you tried your best to relax, telling yourself to just enjoy the night.

You sat in the booth, shifting uncomfortably in the tight skirt, your fingers tapping nervously against the glass in your hand. You weren't used to this—the clothes, the atmosphere, the attention.

You could feel eyes on you, and it made your skin prickle with unease. You took another sip of your drink, trying to ignore the feeling, focusing instead on the music, letting it drown out your thoughts.

A shadow fell over you, and you looked up, startled. A tall figure ambled over, his silhouette barely visible under the flashing lights. As he got closer, you felt your breath catch in your throat.

It was Suguru.

He looked striking, his long dark hair let down, flowing freely over his shoulders, a few loose strands framing his face. His eyes, sharp and dark, locked onto yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

"Hey," he said, his voice smooth, almost drowned out by the music. He slid into the booth beside you, his presence overwhelming in the small space. You could feel the heat radiating off him, and you swallowed hard, trying to find your voice.

"Hi," you managed, your voice barely audible over the pounding music. You glanced around, hoping to catch sight of Nobara, but she was nowhere to be found.

"I saw you sitting here all alone," Suguru said, leaning in closer. His breath brushed against your ear, and you shivered. "Figured I'd come keep you company."

You could feel your face heating up, and you quickly looked down at your drink, your fingers tightening around the glass. "Oh, um, thanks. I'm just... not really used to this kind of place," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Suguru chuckled, the sound low and warm. "That's alright," he said, his hand coming to rest on the back of the booth, his fingers brushing lightly against your shoulder. "The party scene isn't for everyone."

Your heart was pounding, your mind racing as you tried to make sense of what was happening. His touch was light, almost teasing, and you couldn't help the way your body reacted, a shiver running down your spine.

Then, Suguru leaned in closer, his lips brushing near your ear, his voice smooth and dripping with curiosity. "So, why haven't you told me you weren't a freshman?"

You blinked, leaning back slightly, confusion crossing your face. The question caught you off guard, and you found yourself at a loss for words. He chuckled, the rich sound somehow audible even over the loud music, his eyes glinting with amusement. The laughter sent a thrill through you, and you couldn't help but feel even more exposed under his gaze.

"Megumi let me know," he continued, his tone casual but with a teasing edge. "I asked about you sometime after our little meeting. He mentioned you weren't exactly new here."

You let out a sigh, mixed with a small, awkward laugh, biting your lip as you decided to just be honest. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and you looked away for a moment before meeting his gaze again. "Well... I mean... I was a virgin," you admitted, the words almost getting lost in your throat.

Suguru's brow quirked up, his lips curling into a sly smile. "Was?" he echoed, his tone laced with intrigue.

You gave a small shrug, trying to appear nonchalant despite the way your heart hammered in your chest. "Yeah... I've, um, done some things since talking to you," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper.

Suguru's eyes darkened, his gaze raking over you slowly, almost possessively, taking in every detail of your appearance. You could feel his eyes traveling over the curve of your neck, down to where the tight tube top hugged your chest, his eyes lingering for a moment before moving back up to meet yours. He licked his lips, his eyes hooded as he leaned in, closing the small distance between you.

He shifted closer, his thigh pressing against yours, and you could feel the heat radiating from him, your body instinctively leaning into his. His voice dropped, growing lower, the words coming out smooth and suggestive. "You know... I'd love to see exactly what you've learned." His eyes flickered down to your lips, and before you could react, he tilted your chin up with his fingers, his touch both gentle and firm.

His lips brushed against yours, soft at first, testing. You could feel your heart skip a beat, your breath hitching in your throat. He pulled back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours, searching for any hesitation. When he found none, he leaned in again, his lips pressing more firmly against yours, his other hand moving to cup your cheek.

You melted into the kiss, your body responding before your mind could catch up, your hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips.

His lips moved against yours with a confidence that made your head spin, his tongue brushing against your bottom lip, coaxing a soft gasp from you. He took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips, exploring, teasing.

You could taste the hint of alcohol on his breath, mixed with something distinctly him, and it made your head swim.

Suguru's hand moved from your chin, trailing down to rest on your waist, his fingers splayed against the exposed skin, his thumb brushing lightly against your side.

The touch sent a jolt through you, and you found yourself leaning further into him, your body craving more. His other hand tangled in your hair, tilting your head just right, allowing him to control the kiss, his lips moving hungrily against yours.

When he finally pulled back, you were both panting, your forehead resting against his as you tried to catch your breath. His eyes were half-lidded, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched you, clearly pleased with the way you were reacting to him.

You didn't even hesitate as you leaned forward again, your lips seeking his, a soft whine escaping you when he pulled just out of reach, chuckling softly.

He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, his lips brushing against your skin as he murmured, "How about we take this somewhere a little more... private?"

You nodded, your mind too foggy with desire to think straight. "Okay," you breathed out, your voice shaky.

Suguru grinned, standing up from the booth and taking your hand, his fingers lacing with yours as he led you through the crowded club. Your heart was pounding in your ears, your body buzzing with anticipation as you followed him, your eyes fixed on his broad back, the way his hair flowed freely as he moved.

He led you to a single bathroom, pushing the door open and pulling you inside before locking it behind you. The room was small, the dim light casting shadows across the tiled walls.

The moment the door clicked shut, Suguru's hands were on you again, pulling you close, his lips crashing against yours, the intensity of his kiss taking your breath away.

His mouth moved against yours with a fervor that made your knees weak, his tongue slipping past your lips, seeking out yours. He sucked on your tongue, swallowing every whimper and whine that escaped you, his kisses heated and demanding.

Your back hit the wall, the cold tiles a stark contrast to the heat of his body. You could feel his need—the way his body pressed into yours, his hands gripping your waist as if he couldn't get close enough.

You let out a soft moan, your arms wrapping around his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair. His lips left yours, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your jawline, his breath warm against your skin. He moved to your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin before sucking lightly, drawing out a gasp from you.

Suguru lifted you up effortlessly, his strong hands gripping the backs of your thighs as he pulled your legs to wrap around his waist. Your legs wrapped around him instinctively, pulling him closer, your body craving more of the contact.

His hips grinded against you, moving in a steady rhythm, his hardness pressing against you through the thin fabric of your clothes, each movement sending a wave of heat through your body. His lips trailed up the side of your neck, his tongue flicking against your pulse point, his teeth nipping at your skin before he soothed it with his tongue.

Your eyes fluttered open, and for a split second, you thought you saw something—a shadowed figure stepping out from the corner of the small bathroom. Your breath caught in your throat, your eyes widening as you focused on the figure.

It was Satoru.

His eyes were glowing faintly in the dim light, his tail swinging low against the ground, the tip flicking back and forth as if in anticipation.

Satoru just watched, his lips curling into a knowing smirk as his eyes locked onto you, then shifted to Suguru. He didn't say anything, just leaned back against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, his gaze fixed on you both with an intensity that made your skin prickle.

Suguru's hands moved lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your underwear. You let out a gasp, your eyes squeezing shut, trying to ignore the fact that Satoru was watching. Suguru's fingers brushed against you, his touch featherlight at first, teasing.

He found your clit, his long fingers moving in gentle, precise circles, the sensation making your head fall back against the wall, a soft moan slipping from your lips.

He watched your reaction, his eyes dark with desire, his lips curling into a satisfied smile as he continued. His fingers moved skillfully, the pressure just right, drawing out soft whimpers from you with every movement.

Your hips bucked against his hand, your body reacting on its own, craving more of the pleasure he was giving you.

You could feel Satoru's eyes on you, his gaze burning into your skin, but all you could focus on was the way Suguru's fingers moved against you, the way his lips found yours again, swallowing every sound you made.

When your eyes fluttered open, you saw Satoru right next to you, his face close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your cheek. He didn't spare Suguru a single glance; it was as if Suguru couldn't even see him.

As if understanding the confusion in your gaze, Satoru leaned forward, his nose brushing along the side of your face, his voice a low murmur that sent a shiver through you.

"No one else can see me but you," he whispered, his tone almost mocking. His lips curved into a smirk as he watched your reaction, his eyes flickering down to where Suguru's hand was still moving against you.

Satoru's eyes darkened, and he let out a soft, almost dismissive hum. "Look at him," he said, his voice dripping with judgment. "He looks like he doesn't even know what he's doing. Doesn't know how to touch you properly."

You let out a shaky breath, your back arching as Suguru's fingers moved inside you, his touch sending jolts of pleasure through your body. You tried to focus on Suguru, on the way he was making you feel, but Satoru's presence was impossible to ignore. His words were a constant distraction, his voice cutting through the haze of pleasure.

"What... what are you doing here?" you managed to stutter out, your voice barely above a whisper. Your eyes squeezed shut again, your body reacting to Suguru's touch, your hips bucking slightly against his hand.

Satoru tilted his head, a grin spreading across his face as he watched you. "Your request wasn't completed," he said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

You blinked, your mind struggling to keep up, confusion clouding your thoughts. "But... but I thought the request was completed," you stammered, your voice shaky.

Satoru's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with amusement. He chuckled, asking, "Don't you recall me saying it was never fulfilled? You're still a virgin."

You stuttered out a "B-but I—" but he cut you off, his lips brushing against your ear. "Tsk tsk, poor you. So shocked, yet made a deal with a demon."

Suguru's moans and groans in your ear were what pulled you out of your daze. The sound was raw, almost desperate, and it made your body shiver in response. But before you could react further, Satoru's expression twisted, a scowl forming as his eyes narrowed, his fangs glistening under the dim light. His annoyance was palpable, radiating off him like a heatwave.

Without warning, Satoru grabbed a fistful of Suguru's hair, yanking his head back with a rough pull. Suguru let out a shocked gasp, his eyes widening in confusion, his hands momentarily stilling on your body. His head turned, and like a veil had been lifted, his eyes landed on Satoru.

You could see the shock ripple across his features, his gaze taking in the dark eyes, the elongated canines, and the narrow, cold look Satoru was giving him.

Suguru's steps staggered back, his hold on you loosening as he stared at the demon before him. Satoru's head tilted slightly, his lips twitching up into a smirk, his amusement evident.

He leaned in close, his nose brushing along Suguru's neck, inhaling deeply. "You're handsome," he muttered, his voice low and almost teasing. "I'll give you that."

Suguru's eyes darted between you and Satoru, his expression shifting from shock to something akin to fear. His gaze bounced back and forth, searching for some kind of answer, but there was none.

You could see the fear settling in his eyes, the way his body tensed as Satoru's presence became more overbearing, more predatory.

Without giving Suguru a second to react, Satoru's lips were on his, locking them in a fierce kiss. Suguru let out a muffled, shocked sound, his eyes widening in surprise. Satoru's eyes, however, were focused, dark with a carnal, predatory glint that made your breath catch in your throat.

He kissed Suguru with an intensity that left no room for protest, his tongue pushing past Suguru's lips, licking into his mouth with a possessive fervor.

You could see the way Suguru's body shivered, the fight draining out of him as Satoru's tongue moved against his, the raw dominance in Satoru's kiss overpowering any resistance.

Slowly, Suguru's eyes began to glaze over, the tension leaving his body, his expression going blank as if all the fight had been taken from him.

Satoru finally pulled back, a grin on his face as he popped off Suguru's lips, a thin string of spit connecting their mouths. He brought his thumb up, rubbing away the saliva with a slow, deliberate movement, his eyes flicking to yours with a gleam of satisfaction. "Done~" he purred, his voice dripping with amusement.

All you could do was stare, your body trembling slightly in Suguru's loosened arms, your eyes wide with a mix of fear and confusion.

Your heart pounded in your chest, your gaze flicking from Satoru's satisfied smirk to Suguru's blank, dazed expression, your mind struggling to process what had just happened.

Satoru's hand moved to pet Suguru's head, his fingers threading through the dark strands. "Good boy," he murmured, his voice dripping with condescension. "Now, why don't you get on your knees and prepare her, hm?"

You could only watch, frozen in place as Suguru shifted beneath you, his hands moving you effortlessly. He repositioned you on his shoulders as he knelt on one knee, his eyes still glazed over, obedient.

You felt a jolt of panic as his fingers moved to pull down your underwear, the realization of what was happening breaking through the fog of confusion clouding your mind.

"Um, Suguru," you called awkwardly, your voice trembling. "I-I don't think we... you should do this." You tried to push yourself off his shoulder, your movements clumsy and desperate. You managed to get one leg back onto the floor with some difficulty, your heart pounding as you tried to free yourself.

But before you could hop down completely, you felt warm hands circling around your waist, stopping you in your tracks. "And where do you think you're going?" Satoru purred, his voice smooth and mocking, his hands tightening their hold on you.

Your head snapped up, your eyes meeting his briefly before you swallowed and looked away, your gaze shifting back to Suguru's blank, awaiting expression. "L-look, Satoru, this can't happen," you stammered, your voice shaky. "It's wrong. I wanted Suguru, but not like this... not like this."

Satoru's eyes softened, but it wasn't with kindness. It was pity, as if he found your resistance amusing. He raised a hand, his thumb caressing the apple of your cheek, his touch deceptively gentle. "I don't think you understand, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice almost sweet. "I'm not doing this for you." He leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he hummed, "I'm simply fulfilling my part of the deal, whether you like it or not."

You opened your mouth to protest, but before you could get the words out, you felt something change. Your body went slack, the fight draining from your limbs. It was like a switch had been flipped, and you could feel yourself losing control, your mind still aware but your body no longer your own.

You felt your muscles moving, your hands reaching out to steady yourself as you climbed back onto Suguru's shoulders.

Satoru watched, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "That's right," he cooed, his voice soft, almost tender. "Just like that." His words washed over you, your body responding to his command, your movements automatic, robotic.

You could feel the tears welling in your eyes, your heart aching with a mix of fear and helplessness as you settled back onto Suguru, your mind screaming even as your body obeyed.

"Don't worry," Satoru cooed, his voice sickeningly gentle as he yanked down your underwear, "I won't let you forget such an important night." His words sent a shiver down your spine, dread coiling in your stomach, but your body still moved, still obeyed the unspoken command.

Suguru's head dipped between your thighs, his lips brushing against your sensitive skin, his breath warm as he began his work. His tongue moved up and down your slit, slow and deliberate, tasting you.

The sensation made you shiver, your breath catching in your throat as his tongue pressed harder, licking a steady path. He sucked gently on your clit, his lips enclosing around the sensitive nub, and you couldn't help the gasp that escaped your lips, your back arching as pleasure shot through you.

You could feel Satoru's eyes on you, his gaze piercing as he watched every reaction, every movement. He leaned down, capturing your lips with his, swallowing the sounds that slipped out, his mouth moving against yours in a heated kiss.

It was possessive, demanding, and you felt your head spin, the taste of him mingling with the sensations Suguru was pulling from you.

Suguru's fingers slipped inside you, moving expertly as if he knew exactly what to do, exactly how to unravel you. His fingers curled, brushing against your g-spot, and your hips jerked in response, a moan caught in your throat.

You tried to fight it, tried to resist the pleasure coursing through your body, but it was like your mind and body were disconnected. Your hips began to rock against Suguru's hold, seeking more of the sensation, more of the pleasure, even as your mind screamed at you to stop.

Why couldn't you stop? Why couldn't you fight it? The pleasure was overwhelming, your body responding to every touch, every kiss, even though your heart pounded with fear, your mind clouded with shame.

You didn't want this. Not like this. But Satoru's voice, his presence, seemed to drown out every other thought, every attempt to resist.

His lips moved against your ear, his voice a low whisper. "That's it... just let go." His words felt like a command, and you felt your body responding, your muscles relaxing, your hips rocking in a steady rhythm against Suguru's mouth.

The tears slipped down your cheeks, a mix of frustration and helplessness, but the pleasure kept building, drowning out everything else, making it harder and harder to think.

Then, with one final, rough swipe of Suguru's tongue, you felt yourself unraveling. Your thighs shook, your back arching as the wave of release washed over you. You came, your entire body trembling, and a broken moan escaped your lips, your fingers clenching tightly in Suguru's hair.

Before you could fully recover, Satoru's hand was in Suguru's hair again, pulling him up roughly. He kissed Suguru deeply, his lips crashing against his with a ferocity that made Suguru's eyes widen in shock.

Satoru groaned into the kiss, the sound deep and raw as he licked into Suguru's mouth, his tongue exploring without hesitation. His eyes flashed a bright electric blue, filled with something primal, as he pulled back, a satisfied smirk on his lips.

"Hold her," Satoru ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument. Suguru's expression remained blank, obedient, as he shifted you in his arms, turning you around so your back was pressed against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, his grip firm as he held your legs open, leaving you exposed.

You felt your heart pounding in your chest, fear and anticipation mixing as Satoru's eyes roamed over you. His hand slipped down to touch himself, stroking lazily as he watched you, his gaze heated.

Suguru's hold on you was steady, and you could feel the way his breath hitched, the way his chest rose and fell behind you. Satoru gave a soft hum of approval, his eyes flicking between you and Suguru.

"Perfect," he murmured, his voice low and filled with dark amusement. He stepped forward, his length in hand, and you could feel your stomach tighten, your heart pounding even faster. "Did you ever imagine your first time like this?" he asked, his tone blunt, teasing, as he rubbed the tip of his cock up and down your slit, spreading your wetness.

You bit your lip, trying to stifle a whimper as the head of his cock pressed against your entrance. The pressure was almost too much, and you felt the stretch, the burn, as he slowly pushed in. The sensation made your back arch, your fingers digging into Suguru's arms as you tried to adjust.

It was overwhelming, the fullness, the burn, but Satoru's pace was relentless, pushing deeper until he bottomed out, a long groan escaping his lips.

Satoru set a rough pace, his hips snapping forward with each thrust, his hands gripping you and Suguru tightly. You could feel the hardness of Suguru behind you, his body pressed against yours, his breath hot against your ear.

Satoru's hand moved to your hair, pulling your head back, and then he grabbed Suguru's hair too, holding you both in place as he thrust into you. The feeling was intense, the pleasure mixing with the pain, and you could hear the ragged breaths, the groans, filling the room.

"Maybe... I'll keep... you both," Satoru muttered, his voice low and taunting. "A cute little pair." His words sent a shiver through you, your body tensing, clenching down around him. The sensation pushed you over the edge, your vision flashing white as another orgasm tore through you.

Your body shook, sparks dancing behind your closed eyelids, the pleasure overwhelming as you let out a choked sob.

The only sounds in the room were your panting breaths, the slap of skin against skin, and Satoru's low, satisfied groans. He pulled out of you suddenly, still hard, and you winced at the emptiness. He hummed, content, as he looked down at your trembling form, his gaze filled with a dark satisfaction.

"Oh," he said, as if just remembering something. His eyes flicked to Suguru, and he licked his lips, a smirk forming. "Since you did such a good job following instructions, I think you deserve a reward." He nodded towards Suguru, his voice soft, almost mocking. "Set her down."

Suguru shifted, his grip loosening as he helped you to your feet. Your legs felt weak, trembling as you found your footing, and you swayed slightly, your body still reeling from everything that had happened.

Satoru watched, his eyes glinting with amusement as Suguru moved.

In one swift movement, Satoru pulled Suguru's cock out, the length hard and aching. Suguru's body shivered at the touch, his eyes closing briefly as Satoru's hand moved over him.

It didn't take long—Satoru's strokes were firm, practiced, and Suguru's breath hitched, his body tensing as he neared his release. With a low groan, Suguru came, his head falling back, his eyes squeezing shut as the pleasure washed over him.

Satoru's smirk widened as he watched Suguru unravel, his hand never slowing until the last shudder left Suguru's body. He turned his attention back to you, stepping closer, his gaze still dark with satisfaction. He cupped your chin, tilting your face up towards him, his eyes locking onto yours.

Leaning in, he pressed his lips to yours in one last lingering kiss, the taste of him making your head spin, your body still trembling with the remnants of everything that had happened.

When he finally pulled away, his eyes glinted with a hint of amusement. "You'd have to be my favorite in a while," he murmured, his thumb brushing across your bottom lip. "Be sure to request me again if you want a little more fun." His voice was smooth, teasing, before he stepped back, his form dissolving into a puff of smoke.

Just like that, he was gone.

It took a few seconds, but you felt your body slowly becoming your own again, your muscles relaxing, the control returning to you. You blinked, trying to steady yourself, the room feeling strangely empty without Satoru's overwhelming presence.

Suguru let out a soft groan, his eyes fluttering open as he seemed to come out of his daze. He looked around, a slight confusion in his gaze before his eyes found you. His brows furrowed, and he moved towards you quickly, concern etched across his features. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft, his eyes searching your face. "Was I... too rough?" He seemed genuinely worried, his gaze dropping to your still unsteady form.

You nodded quickly, waving him off, trying to reassure him. "I'm fine," you managed to say, your voice a bit shaky but sincere. The awkward silence that followed was heavy, neither of you quite sure what to say or how to act after everything that had just transpired.

Suguru rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes dropping to the floor. "I, uh... I usually don't come that fast," he admitted, a hint of embarrassment coloring his cheeks.

You blinked, confused for a second, before the realization hit you—Suguru didn't remember anything with Satoru. He thought it had just been the two of you, fooling around.

You offered him a small smile, shaking your head. "No worries," you said, trying to ease his discomfort. "I... I enjoyed myself."

Suguru's eyes softened, his lips curving into a relieved smile. "You did?" he asked, and you nodded. He seemed to relax a bit, the tension leaving his shoulders. "Maybe we could try again sometime," he suggested, his eyes flicking around the dingy bathroom with a hint of amusement. "Somewhere better, though." His words made you laugh softly, the tension between you easing just a bit.

"Yeah," you said, a smile tugging at your lips. "I'd like that."

Suguru's smile widened, his hand reaching out to grasp yours gently. He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before pulling you towards the door.

Together, you stepped out of the bathroom, leaving behind the chaos and the strange events of the night.

A/N: ah, not my best but i just wanted to wrap this up 😭

Tag List: idk12345675

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dark-arts-stuff · 10 months ago

Text

Soo, I just watched the last episodes of season 1 Hazbin Hotel, scrolling through fanart and theories for the next season when I noticed a image that was taken in a scene of Alastor's tower.

It's a picture of Alastor on the table with Vox ripped out of it. And that, of course, got my brain rolling and it needs to spill out.

So we all know Vox and Alastor are bitter rivals. Radio V.S. Video. A clearer vision of their dynamic together is introduced in Hazbin Hotel's episode 2 of season 1 "Radio Killed the Video Star" where Vox, hearing that Alastor has returned from his 7 year absence, goes visually upset and makes a direct message on his platform telling sinners what a coward and forgettable person Alastor is, saying video (Vox) is much better than radio (Alastor)

But Alastor comes in using his own way of methods, radio of course, and starts basically beefing with Vox and wins the debate at the end of the song, "Stayed Gone."

It's clear these two hate each other and bicker to each other whenever the chance is given.

If that's so...why was there a picture of Alastor and Vox before Alastor ripped out Vox in it?

Well, it's kinda clear. These two were probably business partners in the past before something made them rivals.

It could be that these two couldn't get along because of their dispute between modern technology and radio. Or maybe how Alastor almost beat Vox one time that Valentino mentions.

Also, even though these two are rivals, Vox is obviously obsessed with Alastor. Wanting to see his down fall, wanting to overtop him, and getting very happy when Alastor retreats with his fight with Adam.

Yet, know we know these two use to be business partners and maybe, even to a degree, friends. Yet something tore them apart and now one of them is at the other's throat. Is it deeper than we think or is it really just because Alastor said no to being on Vox'a team?

Also I know people ship Alastor and Vox together (StaticRadio) so I'll also put in my input to how this plays out. If you don't care, you can skip this part.

I don't think they were exes. Why? Yes, Alastor is ace in the show, stated by Rosie. So I think it's not "lovers turned into bitter rivals" but more a one sided love by Vox that got his heart broken by Alastor whether intended or not. That would explain why Vox is obsessed with Alastor in someway, dealing with heartbreak is hard.

If they were friends, maybe Vox did love Alastor, but Alastor did not reputate those feelings back. When Alastor rejected Vox's offer for his friend to join the team, maybe Vox felt like Alastor rejected him. Is that why he's so bitter?

We'll have to see in Season 2.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #vox #hazbin vox #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #staticradio

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paperultra · 1 year ago

Text

mise en rose.

Pairing: OPLA!Roronoa Zoro x Reader Word Count: 3,806 words Warnings: Swearing, alcohol use

The tune that your father used to whistle now leaves your lips the same way it left his.

Notes skip offkey across the water as your boat rocks gently, waves lapping up against the wooden sides. The moon shines brightly overhead. You shift in place and wait for a tug on your fishing line, the basket at your feet waiting patiently for its first meal.

Archy will be happy if you actually catch something for once. There’s not a lot of fish around here, and you’re not exactly sure why; something about the aquatic plants in the area, or if you were to believe the old man in the village square, a curse that swallows anything with fins that swims too close. The last time you caught something was months ago, and it was tiny and more bone than flesh.

You don’t really care. It’s enough to just sit out here and feel the waves.

Cheeks puffing up with air for another round of music, you let your gaze drift out towards the ocean and abruptly freeze.

There’s something floating in the distance.

A piece of debris. Wood from a hull, a scrap of sail perhaps?

The thought that it may be the remnant of a ship destroyed at sea is enough for you to reel in your line and start rowing towards it, anticipation bubbling up and drowning out any thoughts of a midnight snack.

You get close enough and your anticipation gives way to shock.

“Oh, shit.”

The guy clinging to the chunk of wood stirs and lifts his head, and you almost hit him upside the head with your oar.

“Oh, shit. You’re alive.”

—

“You say you’re going out fishing and you come back with a half-dead man with three swords?” Archy looks like he’s about to have an aneurysm, but this time, you don’t blame him. This is certainly uncharted territory and your older brother is hopeless without a map. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“What was I supposed to do, leave him to die?”

“I dunno! Yeah!” he gestures to the waterlogged man lying halfway on the living room couch, one arm and leg hanging off the side. “Look at him. He’s probably a pirate!”

“Damn, you think?” Crouching down, you drag your eyes across Swordsman’s ragged clothing and grin. You might’ve just rescued someone with a bounty on his head. “That’d be so cool.”

“That would not be cool.”

You shrug. “Well, I brought him in already, so you might as well help me unless you want a dead body in our living room.”

“You little –” Taking a deep breath, Archy pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a long, loud groan, and you know that you’ve won once more. “Fine. But as soon as he’s even a little bit better, we’re calling the Marines.”

“Okay,” you agree amicably. “So, what do we do first?”

“We have to undress him and warm him up.”

“Got it.” Your eager fingers go straight for the swords.

The man comes to life without warning. Seizing your wrist, he cracks one eye open and speaks in a low and rasping voice.

“Don’t. Touch. My swords.”

“Uh,” you say.

“We got to get everything off, mate,” Archy grumbles, and your guest turns his glare onto your brother. “I know how to clean swords and scabbards. I’ll dry them off and put them under the couch afterward.”

“I’ll do it myself.”

With a grunt, Swordsman pushes you away and attempts to sit up. He struggles for a full minute, jaw clenched and muscles trembling; his arms, strong and sturdy as they are, look like they’ll buckle at any moment.

Your eyebrows shoot up to the ceiling when he actually manages to prop himself up.

“Well, that’s impressive,” you mutter, making eye contact with Archy. He rolls his eyes. “Can you remove your clothes and wrap yourself up too?”

It takes a few moments before Swordsman has enough breath to respond. “I’m fine,” he says once he can.

“You’re really not,” Archy replies.

“You’re probably really dehydrated,” you say. “How long were you out there?”

The man stares at you, opens his mouth, pauses.

“Three days. Maybe.”

You gape. “You spent three days floating in the East Blue and you’re not dead?” You look at his neck for gills. “Are you a fishman or something?”

“No.”

“Really? I mean, I never met any fishmen before, so …”

His eye twitches. “I’m not a fishman.”

“Well, okay, if you say so.”

What a weird guy. Then again, you’ve heard that all sorts of characters traverse the Blue Sea. Devil fruit users, talking animals, clowns. A person who can survive the ocean for a couple days on a piece of wood is hardly out of the question.

“You’re dehydrated, in any case,” you conclude. “I’ll get you some water.”

—

After gruffly accepting a glass of water and putting on some dry clothes, Swordsman proceeds to “sleep it off” for the next twenty-four hours. When he finally wakes up, it’s in the middle of the night and you’ve just started rereading your favorite book.

“Oh, he’s awake,” you say when he stirs, swinging your feet off the coffee table and leaning forward in your chair to observe.

He grimaces under the dim light of your lamp, lifting an arm to press it over his eyes. “How long was I out,” he grouses.

“’Bout a day.”

“Shit.” He wriggles around in the fuzzy blanket you’ve wrapped around him. Once he’s loosened its hold enough, he sits up slowly and looks around, expression equal parts drowsy and wary. “Where –”

“Archy took your swords and cleaned them. They’re under the couch.”

“I told you not to touch them.”

“I didn’t. My brother did.”

Casting you the most unamused glare, Swordsman bends over to look underneath the couch. He pulls his swords out and places them in his lap, inspecting the white one first with a care that makes you rest your chin in your hand, curious and charmed. His brow furrows and you know that he finds your brother’s work to be satisfactory when he moves on to inspect the other two.

“Our uncle was a bladesmith in Loguetown. He taught Archy a thing or two before he passed.”

“You’re bladesmiths?”

“Coopers. Uncle was the rebel, I guess.” You close your book and stand up. “There’s leftover soup in the fridge. I’ll heat up the broth for you.”

This time, the man does not refuse your help and only nods. As you head to the kitchen and start to reheat the soup, you glance over and catch him sipping from the glass of water you’d topped off while he was asleep. Somehow, even that small action intrigues you. You smile.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Ladling the steaming broth into a small bowl, you stick a spoon in and walk back to where Swordsman is, sitting beside him. “Here you go. Don’t drink it too fast, and all that.”

He takes the soup, blows on a spoonful, tastes it. His eyes close, and something funny happens in your stomach when he opens them again to look at you.

“’S good.”

“Really?” He nods and puts the bowl to his lips to drink directly from it. “Thanks.”

You let him finish the miso broth in silence. It gives you time to stare at him some more; even with the horrible sunburn and petroleum jelly smeared everywhere, he’s a very handsome man, that much you can tell, with broad shoulders and a pretty face and hair as green as forest moss. The three earrings on his left ear gleam gold and sway with every movement he makes.

“Are you gonna keep staring at me, or are you gonna ask me questions?”

“Hm? Oh!” Shaking your head in slight bewilderment, you smile. “Yeah, I guess it would be good to ask some questions … so, what’s your name, anyway?”

“Roronoa Zoro.”

You tilt your head with a frown. “Roronoa Zoro.” You taste the name in your mouth. “That sounds really familiar. Are you a pirate?”

“No. I hunt them.”

“You hunt them?”

“That’s what I said.”

You look at his swords again. His earrings. Three and three.

Shooting up from the couch, you dash to Archy’s room and slam the door open.

“Archimead! Wake up!” You grab your brother’s shoulders and rattle him.

“Shit – what?!” he gargles, pushing your face away with one meaty hand and sitting up. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“It’s Roronoa Zoro!”

“What?”

“The guy in our living room,” you shriek at him, practically shaking, “is the Pirate Hunter Roronoa Zoro. I fished Roronoa Zoro out of the fucking ocean.”

Archy stops rubbing his eye. “What.”

Soon enough, Zoro faces both you and your brother in the living room once more.

“You’re Roronoa Zoro? For real?” Archy asks him.

Zoro blinks up him. “Yeah.”

“Can you prove it?”

“‘Can you prove it’ – Archy, look at him. He’s got three earrings in his left ear and three fucking swords.”

“He could be some sort of copycat. We have no idea what Roronoa Zoro actually looks like.”

“You’re such a pessimist. Nobody would lug around three swords if they couldn’t use all of them at once.” You turn your attention back onto Zoro. “How the hell did you get stranded out there?”

He looks between the two of you, waiting for a moment before crossing his arms. “I was headed to Mirror Ball Island, but the boat I was on got caught in a whirlpool,” he says, displeased. “Then I got separated from the rest of the crew. Don’t know if they survived or not.”

“Mirror Ball Island?” you repeat. “That’s a three-day journey from here, at least.”

“Where’s here?”

“Dokusha Village.” You open one of the books on the table and point to a tiny strip of coast you’d labeled on the edge of the East Blue map. “Right there. You could buy a boat and sail west, straight to Mirror Ball Island.”

“I don’t have any beri on me right now,” Zoro says.

“Oh, yeah. Of course you don’t.” Archy puts his hands on his hips. “Well, the merchant ship is coming by in two weeks. If you’re all good by then, you can hitch a ride.”

“I’ll be fine by tomorrow night.”

You snort, closing the book and reclining back. “The rate you’re going, I don’t doubt it. Does that mean you want to leave earlier? You’ll still need a boat and supplies. Food, water, towels, sleeping gear. That all costs money. I mean, we could lend you some, but still.”

“I’ll work for it,” Zoro replies. “I don’t take and give nothing in return.”

Both you and Archy give a hum of approval.

—

True to his word, Roronoa Zoro is up and off the couch by the fourth day.

He doesn’t have a clue as to how to make barrels or buckets, which is expected, so he ends up helping with the grunt work of carrying staves into the workshop and stacking finished barrels. Other than that, there’s not much for him to do.

“Sorry if it’s boring,” you apologize during lunch, speaking through a mouthful of sandwich. “You’re kind of just hired muscle.”

Zoro shrugs, chewing on his own sandwich. Two girls walking by – Phoebe and Iris, the blacksmith’s daughters – spot him on the bench and giggle, hurrying past with glances over their shoulders. He appears not to care. “It’s fine.”

“I think you’re even stronger than my brother. Is it because of your training as a swordsman?”

“Probably,” he says.

“When did you start?”

“When I was eight.”

You nod sagely. “Not surprised. I’ve been helping around the workshop since I was a kid, and I only just finished my apprenticeship a few weeks ago. It’s good to start young.”

It seems that Zoro agrees by the way he grunts, stuffing the last piece of crust into his mouth.

When he’s done, you muster the courage to ask, “What’s it like, being a bounty hunter?”

Zoro raises an eyebrow at you. Then he gazes back out at the street. “It’s fine,” he responds. “Makes good money.”

You sigh exasperatedly. “Yeah, but, like, is it fun? Do you spend a lot of time at sea? See a lot of different places? Stuff like that.”

“I don’t do it for fun. My only goal is to become the world’s greatest swordsman.” He leans back and puts his hands behind his head. “It’s a shitton of traveling, both on ships and on land. I’ve been all over the East Blue.”

“Wow.” The word comes out as a sigh. You crunch longingly on a carrot stick. “That sounds amazing. It’s my dream to travel all over the world on a ship.”

“How come you’re here, then?”

You wince, hushing him hastily. Glancing behind you, you clear your throat and lean in to speak softly. “Archy hates the ocean. He worked on a merchant ship for a few months when he was eighteen and got super sick.” Upon reading Zoro’s blank expression, you clarify, “I can’t just leave him. I’m the only family he’s got now, and his younger sibling to boot. So Dokusha Village it is.”

“You’re staying because of your brother.”

“Yeah. I love him, so it’s fine.” There’s a familiar ache in your chest, but you push it down and elbow Zoro’s ribs in jest. (He doesn’t even move a muscle. Geez.) “Makes okay money. I got a bunch of adventure books to live through, anyway.”

It’s a little hard to meet your lunch companion’s eyes after that. You eat the rest of your carrots in silence, pretending to be occupied with finishing them. Zoro doesn’t utter another word.

But as the two of you get back to work, he seems a little warmer, a little less stiff. You make a silly joke and Zoro huffs out something that almost sounds like a laugh while Archy threatens to stick you in a rum barrel and roll you down a hill.

Perhaps you’ve made another friend.

—

“What are you making?”

You blow off the wood dust, closing one eye to cut a fin just right. “Shark. See?”

The bonfire you’d made crackles just a few feet away as you place the half-finished carving into Zoro’s palm. He picks it up with his other hand and twists it around, touching with intention, and you almost feel self-conscious with the way he’s examining it.

“Nice,” he finally says, and the praise makes you giddy. He hands the shark back to you.

“Thanks. I had a lot of practice.”

Zoro rests his elbows on the rock behind him and takes another swig of sake. You resume carving the shark’s fins, bare feet buried in the cool sand.

Archy’s on a date for once, so he left the two of you to your own devices for the night with a distracted wave goodbye and a warning that he’ll be back late. You took that as a chance to break into the alcohol after supper and drag Zoro down to the beach. The swordsman was willing to come along, though you suspect it was mostly for the sake.

“Ain’t that your third bottle?”

“I can hold my liquor.”

You stick your tongue out at him. “No need to brag.”

He wipes his mouth, dark brown eyes black in the firelight. They glint like steel when he looks over at you, but he doesn’t say anything – not that you’re surprised; sometimes Zoro just looks at whatever he wants without any reason. He’s not particularly complicated in that sense.

(You like that. Too many things in life are complicated.)

“Hey, Zoro.”

“Hm.”

Your lips purse. “Do you think my brother will get married one day?”

“How am I supposed to know?” His tone is flat.

“Well, I dunno! It’s just a question.” You frown, slowing in your work. “It’s just that after our parents died, he’s been too busy looking after me and the shop to court someone. He’s turning thirty next year and most people his age have settled down already. I feel kind of bad.”

“It’s not your fault,” Zoro says. “Wouldn’t he have more time now, anyway, since you can take care of yourself?”

“I think he’s been out for so long he doesn’t know how to date anymore.”

Zoro downs the rest of his sake. You know that there’s no advice he can give you regarding Archy’s marriage prospects, which doesn’t surprise you either. You suppose you just need someone to listen. It’s not like you can talk to Archy about it.

“Hell,” you remember, “I’m expected to be married by now, too. I’ve never even been on a date.”

“Really?”

“Nope. Why, are you surprised?”

Stretching his legs out in front of him, Zoro yawns and closes his eyes. “You just seem like the type.”

“What do you mean?”

“You talk a lot,” he says.

You burst out laughing. “Yeah, I do. Would that make me a good date?”

“How am I supposed to know?”

“I’m guessing you’ve never been on one, either?”

Zoro shrugs. He doesn’t look too torn up about it. “Waste of time,” he mutters.

Your grin widens. “Figured you’d say that,” you drawl, digging your blade into the shark’s mouth. “Dating doesn’t really help you become the world’s greatest swordsman, does it?”

“Nope.”

“I still think it might be fun, though. If you’re with the right person.” With that, you brush away the last curl of wood from your carving. After admiring it for a few seconds, you offer the shark to Zoro, bumping the nose softly against his cheek. He opens his eyes and turns his head to squint at it. “Here you go. All yours.”

His brow furrows as he takes it.

“It’s a going away gift. Since you’re leaving tomorrow,” you say. Folding your knife and putting it down beside you, you grab your bottle of sake and gulp down half of what remains. “Don’t forget it.”

One of the logs in the bonfire crumbles, falling into the coals. Orange sparks fly up into the smoke and disappear just as quickly. You poke at the fire with a stick, trying not to think about how sad you’re going to be tomorrow morning.

“I won’t forget,” Zoro says.

“I know.”

—

It’s almost dawn, and the family boat is packed up and ready to set sail.

“Got everything?” Archy asks, lowering into a squat to scan over all the supplies.

“Yeah.” The swordsman drags a hand through his hair. “Thanks again for the boat.”

“It’s nothing.” Your brother elbows your arm, and you sway. “Oi. He said thank you.”

“I know,” you mumble. For the first time this morning, you spare Zoro a glance and smile at him, but it’s shaky and fake and you really hate how your voice wobbles when you say, “You don’t have to thank us. Just have a safe – have a safe –” Your voice cracks, and you look down at your feet, eyes burning. “Have a safe trip,” you finish quietly.

You can feel two pairs of eyes on you as your vision goes blurry. Shit. This is so embarrassing.

The fact of the matter is that Roronoa Zoro has been in Dokusha Village for only a week, and you’re already missing him like he’s been in your life for years. You’re going to watch him get into your family’s fishing boat and sail away, the wind at his back, the East Blue before him, and you will remain on the dock with your big brother beside you and your dream in your head.

You’re being selfish, but it’s not … it’s not fair.

Archy puts his hand on your shoulder and says your name.

You wipe your nose. “What?”

“… I’ve been thinking.” He sounds hesitant, taking in a deep breath and letting it go slowly, carefully. “You’ve always wanted to travel the world on a ship.”

It’s like the world tilts on its axis.

Rigidly, you look up at your brother, eyes wide.

“I’m not dumb, you know. You’ve only stayed here because of me,” Archy says. “I’m the one who’s supposed to look after you and protect you. But you’ve been able to do that for yourself for a while, now. Right?”

“Archy.” You swallow. “What are you …?”

“I talked with Zoro last night. He’s willing to take you to Mirror Ball Island, if you want.” His smile is crooked, but it trembles at the corners as he continues. “You know how to sail, how to navigate. We’ll just have to add some extra stuff to the boat.”

You can barely breathe.

“There’s plenty of merchant ships there,” Zoro adds, leaning on his sword. “Your skills are valuable. Just be willing to pull your own weight, and they’ll take you on board. If not, I’ll tell them to.”

“You don’t have to –” Now you’re full-on bawling. You throw your arms around Archy, who wraps you in a bear hug, and then around Zoro, who stiffens. “Thank you so much. Thank you thank you thank you.”

“No problem,” Zoro mumbles, patting you on the back. When you let go to beam at him, he averts his eyes and rubs the back of his neck. “Just hurry up.”

Nodding, you dash back up to your house, Archy following close behind. You grab your bag, throw what you need into it, snatch your hat from your bedpost. Less than twenty minutes pass before you’re all ready to go.

“Got everything?” Archy asks once more at the dock. You nod and look at Zoro, who nods as well. “All right.”

You hug Archy for the last time. Tears spill over and down your cheeks. “Thank you for everything, big bro. I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too, kid.” His voice is rough and trembly, muffled against your head. “Come back to visit sometime, okay?”

“Okay.”

Getting into the boat with Zoro, you help him check the rigging and hoist the sail. Archy unties the vessel and pushes the two of you off. As you float away, he waves, and you wave back, staring as he gets smaller and smaller.

“I’m not turning back,” Zoro tells you as you eventually settle in your seat. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

Is it?

You cast one last glance back at Dokusha Village, at the small point of your brother. Then you look out at the broad expanse of the ocean. And you feel many things – joy, sadness, apprehension – but above all that, you feel –

Free.

“Yes,” you say firmly. You push your hat down and smile at Zoro, and this time, it’s genuine. “It is.”

Zoro smiles back. And as the sun begins to warm your face, you whistle your father’s song and think about the journey to come.

#opla #one piece #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro #opla zoro #one piece live action #opla fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #reader insert #fluff #once again i underestimated how long this would take. hoowee #opla zoro my grumpy old man :)#good thing reader is coming along otherwise he'd NEVER make it to mirror ball island rip

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princesskenny1998 · 15 days ago

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One Piece | Monkey D. Luffy x strawhat!f!reader ~ Attraction, PT.3 (smut)

You were hiding in the women’s quarters, sitting with your back against the door. It was the only place you felt safe from him-Luffy and his maddening, relentless teasing. Every time he got close, every time his fingers brushed yours or his breath ghosted over your skin, you felt your control slipping away, and you knew if it kept going, you’d do something you couldn’t take back.

So, you ran. Or, more accurately, you hid. Whenever he showed up, you’d find an excuse to be somewhere else, your heart pounding as you slipped away before he could corner you with another teasing grin or a casual brush of his fingertips that left you reeling for hours afterward. You thought he’d get bored eventually, stop seeking you out, but he didn’t. If anything, it seemed to fuel him even more.

It had gotten to the point where you couldn’t even trust yourself to be around him anymore. You had started avoiding meals at the same time as the rest of the crew, opting to eat later in the galley when it was quiet. You skipped out on group training sessions, practicing alone instead. And you had become an expert at reading the slightest shift in the ship’s atmosphere to know when Luffy was close by, so you could slip away before he caught you.

But today, your nerves were fraying. The pressure was building, and it was getting harder and harder to resist the pull you felt whenever Luffy was near. It was like you were on a tightrope, and the slightest wrong move would send you tumbling into him, consequences be damned.

You were sitting on your bed, legs drawn up to your chest, trying to force yourself to calm down. Just breathe, you told yourself. Just keep breathing. But it was no use-your mind kept replaying the way Luffy had looked at you the last time you had seen him, his eyes dark with unspoken promise, his teasing grin widening when you’d stammered and hurried away.

The door creaked suddenly, breaking the silence. Your heart skipped a beat, panic freezing you in place as the sound of familiar footsteps entered the room. You had forgotten to lock the door.

“Found you,” Luffy said, his voice almost a purr as he closed the door behind him, the latch clicking softly into place. The sound was louder than it had any right to be in the stillness of the room, and it echoed through your chest, sending a rush of heat down your spine.

“Luffy-” you began, trying to keep your voice steady, but it was no use. Your throat was tight, your breath quickening. You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t face him now, not when you were on the brink of losing all control.

“Why are you hiding from me?” he asked, his tone light, curious, but there was a sharper edge beneath it-a note of frustration that matched your own. He took a step closer, his eyes locking onto yours with a seriousnes that sent your pulse skyrocketing.

“I’m not-” you started to deny it, but the words died on your tongue when he crossed the room in three swift strides, moving faster than you expected. Before you could blink, he was standing in front of you, too close, his body radiating warmth and his gaze unwavering.

“Yeah, you are,” he said softly, and there was no teasing in his voice now, only a quiet intensity that made your heart skip. “You keep running away, hiding every time I get close. Why?”

“Because you-” you started, but your voice broke, and you looked away, unable to handle the weight of his stare.

“Because I what?” he pressed, his voice dropping lower as he leaned in, his hands bracing on either side of you against the bed, trapping you in. “Come on, tell me.”

You couldn’t breathe. He was too close, his presence overwhelming, and the heat of him sent your thoughts scattering. You opened your mouth to speak, to tell him to back off, to stop toying with you, but the words got tangled up in the wave of frustration and desire that had been building inside you for days, weeks.

Instead, you snapped.

“Because you’re driving me crazy!” you blurted out, your voice shaking with a mixture of anger and something far more dangerous. “You-You keep teasing me, and I can’t- I can’t handle it anymore, okay?”

Luffy’s eyes widened slightly, surprise flickering across his features, but it vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by a slow, dangerous smile that sent a thrill of heat through your veins. “So,” he said softly, leaning in even closer until his breath brushed your lips. “You want me to stop?”

“Yes!” you said, but the word was almost a gasp, your conviction faltering under the intensity of his gaze. His lips were inches from yours, and all it would take was a tiny movement, a tilt of your chin, and-

“No,” you admitted in a whisper, the truth slipping out before you could stop it. “I don’t want you to stop.”

Luffy’s eyes darkened, his smile shifting into something almost predatory, and before you could even think, his mouth was on yours, hot and demanding. The kiss was nothing like you had expected-there was no hesitation, no softness. It was raw and urgent, his fingers tangling in your hair as he tugged you closer, his other arm wrapping around your waist to pull you against him.

You melted instantly, your hands clutching at his shirt, your body pressing against his as the tension that had been building for so long snapped like a fraying wire. You kissed him back with everything you had, all the frustration and want pouring out in a rush as his lips moved against yours, as if he was trying to devour you.

The kiss deepened, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that made your knees go weak, and you couldn’t help the small sound that escaped your throat-half-moan, half-whimper. It was like a switch had been flipped inside you, and the control you had been clinging to shattered completely.

“Luffy,” you gasped, pulling back just enough to suck in a breath, but he didn’t let you go far. He tugged you back in, his mouth moving to your neck, his lips hot against your skin as he nipped and kissed down to the hollow of your throat.

His hands moved to your waist, fingers slipping beneath the hem of your shirt, and you shivered at the feel of his calloused palms against your bare skin. Your hands were in his hair now, fingers threading through the soft, dark strands as he kissed his way back up to your mouth, and when he spoke, his voice was rough and low, sending a shiver through you.

“You’re not getting away this time,” he said, and before you could respond, his fingers tugged at the edge of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head in one swift motion.

You barely had time to react before his mouth was on yours again, hungrier now, almost desperate. The cool air of the room was a stark contrast to the heat of his body pressing against you, and when his hands roamed over your bare skin, sliding up to your shoulders, it sent a rush of desire so fierce that you arched against him, a soft whimper escaping your lips.

His touch was everywhere, almost overwhelming, and it was like he was memorizing every inch of you, his fingers tracing your skin with a reverence that left you trembling. You barely noticed when he started to unbutton your pants, his movements quick and efficient, his breath warm against your lips as he whispered your name.

It was like you had both lost control, like the desire that had been simmering between you for so long had finally reached a boiling point, and there was no going back. When he pushed your pants down and you stepped out of them, there was no hesitation, no second thoughts-only the frantic need to be closer, to feel him against you with nothing in between.

His hands were at your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he pulled you closer, his mouth never leaving yours as he backed you up against the bed. You fell back onto the mattress, pulling him down with you, and his body was warm and solid above you, his weight pressing you into the blankets as his hands roamed over your skin, exploring every curve and hollow.

“God,” you gasped, your fingers clutching at his shoulders, feeling the strength in his muscles as he moved over you. “Luffy, please-”

Your words were cut off when he kissed you again, harder this time, his teeth grazing your lower lip, and you couldn’t help the moan that slipped out. It was like he was trying to undo you, piece by piece, until there was nothing left but the heat between you, the desperate need that neither of you could deny anymore.

He was relentless, his kisses growing fiercer, his hands bolder, and when he finally pulled back, it was only long enough to yank off his own shirt, the fabric hitting the floor in a careless heap. Your breath hitched at the sight of him, his lean muscles shifting under tan skin, and you couldn’t resist reaching out to touch him, your fingers trailing down his chest as he watched you with dark, hungry eyes.

“Can’t believe you tried to hide from me,” he said, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down your spine. “You should know by now-I always find what I’m looking for.”

And then he was on you again, his hands rough and demanding as he tugged you closer, his mouth hot against your skin, and all you could do was hold on, your thoughtsa tangled, chaotic mess of desire and need. There was no room for words, no space left in your mind for anything but him-Luffy, the one person who could unravel you so completely with a single look, a touch, a whispered word.

His mouth was everywhere-your neck, your collarbone, down to the swell of your chest-leaving a trail of heat in its wake that had you arching against him, your nails digging into his back as you clung to him like he was the only solid thing in a world spinning out of control. His hands moved with a kind of hunger that left no doubt-he had been waiting for this just as long as you had, and now that the dam had broken, there was no holding back.

The tension that had been simmering between you for so long finally exploded, and you couldn’t stop the moans that escaped your lips, each one pulling a low, satisfied growl from Luffy as he pressed you harder into the mattress. His touch was rough but careful, urgent yet somehow gentle, as if he was savoring every moment, every reaction, committing it all to memory.

Your own hands roamed over his skin, mapping the hard lines of muscle and the warmth beneath, your fingers tracing the scars that marked his body-a reminder of just how strong he was, how far he’d come. It was overwhelming to have him like this, so close and so utterly real, not the boyish captain who laughed and goofed around, but the man who looked at you with that intense, knowing gaze and touched you like he couldn’t get enough.

He paused, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath ragged as he caught your gaze. “You really don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” he admitted, his voice rough and raw with something that made your heart skip a beat-a mixture of desire and emotion that made your breath hitch.

“Then don’t stop,” you said, barely recognizing your own voice, and you could see the way your words hit him, the way his eyes darkened, the playful edge replaced with something deeper, something that made your pulse race.

He didn’t need to be told twice. His hands slipped lower, tugging at the last of the barriers between you, his movements more frantic now, as if the realization that this was actually happening had stripped away any remaining restraint. You helped him, your own hands just as desperate, and soon there was nothing between you but skin, heat, and the ache that had been building for so long it was almost painful.

When he settled over you again, his weight pressing you down, it was like everything else fell away-the ship, the ocean, the entire world-until there was only him, and you, and the feel of his body moving against yours. The air was heavy with the sound of your shared breaths, the small gasps and sighs that slipped between kisses, the room growing warmer with each passing second.

“God,” he groaned, his voice tight as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin, “you have no idea how much I’ve wanted you.”

His words were like a spark to dry tinder, and you arched up against him, your body pressing into his as if you could somehow get closer. “Then show me,” you whispered, your voice rough and low, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him down for another searing kiss.

He responded with a kind of urgency that took your breath away, his lips claiming yours with a fierceness that made you dizzy. His hands were everywhere, exploring, caressing, making you gasp and shudder with each new touch, and you could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter in your stomach, like a spring wound too far. It was too much, too fast, and yet not enough all at once.

There was a moment-a breathless, suspended second-where your eyes met, and in that instant, you saw it all. The desire, the longing, the fierce, undeniable connection that had always been there, just waiting for the right moment to surface. It was more than just physical; it was the culmination of everything you’d been through together, the bond that had only grown stronger with each adventure, each challenge, each shared laugh.

And then the moment shattered, and everything blurred together in a rush of movement and sensation. There was no room for thought, no space for second-guessing-only the heat of his skin against yours, the strength of his arms holding you close, and the desperate, aching need that drove you both over the edge.

You lost track of time-seconds, minutes, hours. It all bled together in a haze of heat and desire, every touch, every gasp, every whispered word blending into a single, overwhelming wave that crashed over you both, leaving you breathless and trembling in its wake.

When it was over, you lay there together, bodies tangled and slick with sweat, the only sound the soft, steady rhythm of your breaths mingling in the quiet. The room felt smaller, more intimate, like a world apart from everything else, and for a long moment, neither of you spoke, too caught up in the lingering heat of each other’s skin and the soft glow of the aftermath.

Luffy was the first to move, shifting slightly so he could look at you, his expression open and unguarded in a way you had never seen before. His eyes were bright, almost vulnerable, and he reached up to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch so gentle it made your chest ache.

“You’re not going to run away again, are you?” he asked quietly, a hint of teasing in his voice, but there was something real behind the question-something that made your heart squeeze.

You smiled, feeling lighter than you had in days, weeks. “Not if you don’t give me a reason to,” you said, reaching up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing over the curve of his jaw. “And I don’t think you will.”

He grinned, that familiar, boyish grin that made you feel like you were standing in the sun, and he leaned down to kiss you-softly this time, almost tender. “Good,” he murmured against your lips, his tone light but his gaze serious, his fingers tangling with yours as he pulled back just enough to look at you. “Because I’m not letting you go.”

There was no need for more words after that. You simply held each other, wrapped up in the warmth of the bed and the quiet reassurance of his presence, feeling the ship sway gently beneath you as the world outside continued on its way.

Eventually, the reality of what had just happened began to settle in, and you felt a mixture of relief, joy, and a little bit of disbelief that this was real-that Luffy, who had always been so straightforward and carefree, had seen through all your defenses and caught you, leaving you with no choice but to fall. And yet, lying there with him, his fingers still tangled with yours, you knew you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Whatever came next-whatever challenges or adventures awaited-you would face them together. Because now, for better or worse, Luffy had you, and you had him, in a way that went far beyond teasing or flirting or any game you’d been playing before.

And you had a feeling that this was only the beginning.

#x reader #one piece luffy #one piece reader insert #one piece #one piece smut #monkey d luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy #monkey d luffy #luffy x reader #luffy smut #luffy x reader smut #luffy x y/n #straw hat luffy #luffy #smut

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cutetteaa · 24 days ago

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Hiii i was wondering if you could write something for me :D if you’re uncomfortable feel free to not!

Could I request zoro x reader (she/ her) and he’s just admiring her from afar?? Like shes busy with the girls and he’s secretly watching from afar just so in love??thank you🥺💖

Hello!! Yes of course, this is so freaking cute!! <3

Sweet smile (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

Zoro x fem! reader- fluff ♡

Warnings: (none!)

Also this song is perfect for this story hehe…

Y/n was peacefully having a conversation with Nami and looking off into the ocean as the crew was looking for any upcoming islands. Zoro was at the back of the ship leaning on some railings and keeping looking out, minding his business. While he's lost in thought he's quickly brought back to earth when he hears your sweet laughs, and it sounds like music to his ears. You’re gently throwing your head back in laughter, while Zoro is left wondering what could be so funny that was causing you to burst out into laughter?

He watches as your low-rise pants compliment your waist and curves perfectly. The waist he loves to hold so dearly, like as if it was glass that was going to shatter in his rough and calloused hands if he was too rough. The curves that fit his arms so perfectly almost like you were a puzzle piece made just for him. Your tank top sitting perfectly on your bust, hugging all your curves gently. While staring at you he noticed your beautiful smile but don't get him wrong, he always knew you were the most beautiful girl on the planet. But after eyeing you down for a while he noticed how genuine and alluring you really were, soaking up your lovely features that fit you perfectly and created the woman he so truly adored. It reminded him of the sweet smiles you would shine at him throughout the day and the silly faces you make at him after fighting enemies to lighten the mood. Like when you’re caught staring at him in awe while he’s still sleeping except, he’s actually awake and just likes feeling your soft hands over his face. Who is he to pass up on some gentle kisses?? Or when you find something so cute that you practically have stars in your eyes and a smile so huge it makes him smile just at the sight of your pure and genuine happiness.

You suddenly begin to feel weird... almost like someone is staring at you? While turning your head to look for the culprit you notice everyone participating in their own tasks and conversations until your eyes land on a certain moss headed man, your sweet boyfriend Zoro was staring at you with the most loving eyes ever. You flash him a toothy smile while back waving at him, your eyes shut and your hair gently blowing in the wind, you were perfect in his eyes. You think you look crazy, but Zoro just notices how every strand of hair perfectly flows in the wind outlining all your features perfectly. He smiles softly and gives you a small wave back, you blow him a kiss before turning back to Nami, continuing your conversation. You'll never understand how that smile made his heart practically skip a beat as he looked away all shy because he got caught. He knows deep down he has no shame because he loves you and makes sure everyone knows that.

#one piece x reader #one piece #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader fluff #zoro roronoa x reader #fleurkuma #zoro x y/n #roanoa zoro #zoro x reader #one piece zoro #ronoroa zoro #roronoa zoro #zoro #cutetteaa

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lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom · 9 months ago

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Could you do one where the reader had been in a relationship with Hunter before being taken with Omega on Tantiss. Now that they're reunited, Hunter realizes that he wants to marry the reader?

With a little bit of Wrecker and Crosshair friendly teasing Hunter.

Marry Me?

Hunter x Reader

Summary- After an insufferable separation from you, Hunter realizes his true feelings. That he never wants to be apart from you- that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.

Part Two right here! Part Three right here!

A/N- SPOILERS FOR SEASON 3 OF THE BAD BATCH!!!! You have been warned! Thank you so much for requesting babes! Hope you like it! <3 <3

Word Count- 1,755

Beautiful Screen Shot by @isthereanechoinhere96

"Omega... It's- It's been months. We don't even know if they're still aliv-"

You felt shame rise up in your chest when you agreed with Crosshair. He was right, time had gone by slowly and there was no way of knowing if Hunter and Wrecker were alive. Your sweet sweet Hunter. The man who only showed he heart for the people he deeply loved. You were lucky to be one of them.

"They'll be there." Omega stated. She was so sure... but all you could think about were the doubts. Omega was always able to be more trusting and optimistic than you. Constant fear of losing your family limited you severely.

You swallowed deeply and looked down to Omega, pushing your anxieties down. "They will be." Were you trying to convince Crosshair or yourself?

The next few minutes of hyper-space felt like days. You were so eager. Everything was either going to get a million times worse, or a million times better.

Omega guided the ship to a remote planet you had never heard of, a deep blue over taking you.

Picking at your nails nervously, you stood- ready to depart. Crosshair noticed this and eyed you. He was nervous as well, but for different reasons.

You almost sobbed when you saw the Marauder in the distance. Hope bubbled in your chest, all thoughts of doubt escaped you.

The second the door lowered with a steam, Omega ran out of the ship. You followed her quickly behind.

She stopped at the mid-point between the ships. Wrecker slowly exited the Marauder, "Now there's a sight!"

You laughed, the tension dissipated. Omega ran to him and Wrecker picked her up, spinning around. "Wrecker!" She responded.

The sight made tears of joy fall. To see Omega so happy was enough for you.

"And I wasn't even sure your message was real!" Wrecker half-joked, still holding Omega up.

"Wrecker, I knew you'd show up!" Her words made your ears ring, did Hunter show up? Well, of course he did! That would be dumb for him to leave Wrecker... Unless, unless he wasn't alive to leave.

Your brain ran wild, why hadn't Hunter come out yet? It was almost as if Wrecker read your mind, he rested a hand on your shoulder after lowering Omega.

Just then, another set of footsteps came out. Hunter skipped steps to get to you and Omega.

Your hands shot up to cover your gasp, tears falling fast now. Omega got to Hunter first- you knew she needed it more.

He crouched down and hugged Omega deeply, his words drowned out. What you did make out was him saying your name, an arm stretched out for you and an arm holding Omega tightly.

You met him as fast as your feet would let you. "Hunter..." You whispered, face immediately meeting his neck as he pulled you close.

His arm pulled you in, crushing you against him in a pleasant way.

He pulled back to pepper your face with kisses, then a deep one on the lips. A few of your tears dripped onto his face, mixing with his own.

Omega giggled and pulled on your arm, you pulled back to let her back in on the hug. All three of you were lifted when Wreckers arms grasped around the bunch of you.

Wrecker pulled everyone up, making the embrace tighter. It was like your perfect little family was back again.

That night, after abandoning the empire's ship, was filled with more hugs, catching up, tears, and awkward conversations with Crosshair. You couldn't have wished for anything better. Your family, all in one place. Save for Echo, but you learnt he was safe with Rex- that made you smile.

You helped Omega settle into her room. You noticed too many yawns and drifting off, she was worn out emotionally and physically.

You spoke with her softly, reminding her everyone would still be here in the morning. Picking up Lula, her doll, and tucking it under her arm gave out the last yawn.

"Can I talk to Hunter?" She questioned with big eyes.

"Of course, baby. I'll be right back" You pet her hair back and left to go retrieve him.

You stopped when you saw him, Crosshair, and Wrecker whispering in the cock-pit.

"Ahaha! Be a man, just ask!" Wrecker said as he patted Hunters back harshly. Ask who? What would he have to 'be a man' about?

"If you say it any louder he won't have to..." Crosshair remarked.

"Oh! Sooorry." Wrecker dragged out.

"Both of you hush, I'll do it when I feel the time is right." Hunter spoke, his husky voice immediately filling you with warmth.

"You got this!" Wrecker exclaimed again, this time he earned a "Shhh!" from both Hunter and Crosshair.

You slowly entered the cock-pit, this time making your appearance known.

"Oh! Hello!" Wrecker greeted loudly, signalling to Hunter you were in the room. Hunter just sighed and shook his head.

You were curious about the conversation, but thought it might not be any of your business.

Smiling, you started, "Omega wants you to finish putting her to bed, Hunter." The way his face lit up had you star-struck. Almost like he couldn't believe she wanted him. "Thank you."

He nodded and headed her way, a hand cupping and maneuvering around your waist as he passed you. His subtle but frequent small touches warmed your heart.

You took a seat in the co-pilot chair, swiveling to look at Crosshair and Wrecker. Both looked down at you with crossed arms and smug looks.

"What?" You wondered if there was something on your face, or if you just took someones spot.

"Nooothing, we will be heading off to sleep now. RIGHT Crosshair?" Wrecker spoke in a suspicious voice, elbowing him in the side. Crosshiar grunted but agreed, leaving you alone.

Weird.

But then again, nothing was normal on this ship.

You took this time to lean back and take a few minutes of rest alone. It was nice being able to relax by yourself, knowing everyone was safe.

After a handful of minutes, Hunter made his way back from Omega. He took the seat next to yours, turning to face you.

"How are you doing?" You asked, sparking conversation.

"Fine, I'm just happy you guys are here... I keep thinking i'm going to blink and you'll both be gone..." His words shook at the end. You sat up, understanding the seriousness of the conversation.

"Hunter, Omega and I are alive and safe. We are here and we are not going anywhere." You rose and stood between his legs, hands cupping his face.

He looked up at you, tears filling his eyes slowly.

"What if I can't protect you two again?" He brought up a hand to rest at your hip, the other on his leg.

You rested your forehead against his, "That was a freak accident, baby. No one could have stopped that. Now we have Crosshair, Batcher, and we are ready for anything. We will keep Omega from the Empire. I promise."

He took a deep breath in, like he had just decided something.

He started by saying your name, "You always know just what to say. I wish I had that ability..." He closed his eyes and breathed you in for a moment, then he spoke again. "When... When we were apart I was so lost."

"I kno-"

"No, I don't think you understand. I couldn't think of anything but you and Omega. I was so broken without you." He repeated your name.

"I-I never want you to be away from me again." His voice got huskier as he spoke, and your legs felt like jello. You just looked at him deeply, nodding.

He started for a second time with a shaky breath, "No one can take you from me again. I will claw my way back to you every damn time." He nods his head up, brushing his nose to the side of your cheek with closed eyes.

You let him speak, even when your mind was flowing with your own comments, "It- The distance, made me realize. There is no one that can compare to you. No other woman I would ever want to be with."

Ah, so that is what they were talking about. You smiled big, awaiting the special phrase.

Tears filled your eyes with his words, he was speaking as raw as he was capable of.

"I can't promise you money or luxury, but I will spend every waking hour fighting to make you happy. Fighting to keep you safe." He pulls back, steadying you with both hands on your hips.

You take in a teary breath to speak, but he cuts you off. "Don't say anything yet, just- Wait here, just a second." He stands, reaching to Crosshair's old storage compartment.

He rushes back with a small box. You raise your hands to cup your own face, bright red. He lowered onto one knee, right in the middle of the cock-pit

"Please, for my own sanity and happiness, will you marry me?" He asks.

"Yes. Yes Hunter, there are no other words than yes." You fall down onto him, arms grasping around his neck.

He lets out a sigh of relief like you'd ever say 'no.'

"Thank you, oh thank you." He whispers into your neck, holding you tight. He only pulls back slightly to kiss you. A kiss so deep and full of emotions your head spun. You just held him, never wanting to let go.

It felt like time stopped, just for you two. Just for a clone trooper and a small girl...

"I never planned on you..." He broke the silence, head placed on top of yours. "But I- you were so damn perfect. Too perfect." You gave a small laugh, looking up to see his handsome face.

You rested a hand on his tattoo, thumbing it. "Hunter, if anyone is perfect it's you. You have so much love for me and Omega... How do you do it?"

"I manage." He smirked, leaning down to smell your hair. Something he used to do frequently when you snuggled in the past.

"Am I now Mrs. Hunter? Or is it Mrs. Trooper?" You joked, pulling back to sit fully on the ship floor. Your hands still filled with his much larger ones.

He smiled at you, another reminder on why he loved you so much. "We can figure out all the fine details later... Just let me kiss you again..."

So, you did.

A/N- Thank you so much for reading! I loved writing this one, I hope it turned out as good as I thought! Sorry It took me longer to post than usual, I was pretty busy this past week. As always, i'm open to constructive criticism!

Tags- (lmk if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss

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