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roosterforme · 1 month

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Aim for the Sky Part 3 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley starts building his daughter's playset with a little help from an unexpected visitor. He wants to finish all of his projects and take care of you and do as much as he can now that he's home. There's so much he wants to get done, it might be time to make a to-do list.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, swearing, oral, pregnancy, bit of angst

Length: 4000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Bradley was up at the crack of dawn on Saturday. His afternoon nap the previous day turned into one that lasted into the evening when you got up with him and cooked him dinner before going back to bed. His plan was to come home and take care of everything so you didn't have to, but so far you made him homemade chicken fajitas and lulled him to sleep with your fingers in his hair, twice.

But today, he was determined to return the favor. He wanted to get started on building the jungle gym, and he wanted to get in a few reps on his own workout equipment in the garage. He'd clean up the kitchen and take Tramp for a walk later, too. If he got started now, he might be able to build the entire jungle gym frame for his daughter. His daughter. He ran his hands over his face as you snoozed right next to him in bed. Would he ever stop being on the verge of tears when he thought about it?

There was a list of names he liked in the Nugget notebook which was still tucked away in his duffle bag. He had a favorite, but he didn't want to try to convince you that it was perfect until he heard which ones you liked. But he knew it would be perfect.

"Roo?"

He was just about to slip out of bed when you rolled toward him, reaching for him groggily like you couldn't quite believe he was really home. "There's my Baby Girl," he whispered, letting his hand settle on your belly now that you were awake. "And my Nugget."

In an instant, you pushed him onto his back, kissing him as he cradled you with both hands. Your bump wasn't very big yet, but it was noticeable, and he didn't want to hurt you. God he missed waking up next to you, and it was obvious you'd missed him, too. You deepened the kiss, your tongue dipping between his parted lips until you were tasting his mouth. He could feel your nipples harden against his chest through a layer of cotton as you dragged your fingers through his hair before letting them trail down his body to the waistband of the shorts he fell asleep in.

"Okay," he grunted, already hard for you as you ran your index finger inside the elastic. "Take it easy, Sweetheart. Wanna make this last." He rolled you gently onto your back as you cupped him inside his shorts, your thumb stroking his length. You squeezed his balls gently, spreading your legs wide. He glanced down your body as you smirked at him. "If you're gonna show off that pretty pussy, I'll put my mouth all over it."

"Bradley," you moaned, turning your head to the side. How on earth that bashful smile could make him even wilder, he had no idea. But just when he ran his thumb along your wet slit and tickled your ear with his mustache, someone started pounding on the front door.

You squeaked and jolted beneath him, but not in the way he wanted. "What the fuck?" he growled, easing his body off of yours. Once he was standing, he tried to adjust himself in his shorts, but it was obvious he was hard. Then there was more pounding.

"It's your first weekend home. Did you seriously invite someone over here this early, Bradley?" you asked, squinting as you reached for your phone. "It's seven o'clock!"

"No," he grunted. "I didn't even talk to anyone! I just wanted to eat your pussy in peace."

He stormed out of the bedroom, adjusting himself as he went. Tramp was already pacing back and forth and whimpering at the front door when Bradley saw Jake's car parked in front of the house. "Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me." He wrenched the door open and found Jake standing there with some grocery bags and a box of donuts. "What do you want?" Bradley barked while Tramp started licking the unwanted visitor's leg.

Jake strolled inside like he wasn't interrupting Bradley's blissful weekend of giving his wife head and finding out his Nugget is a girl. "I brought all of the groceries and everything," Jake answered, heading for the kitchen, completely unfazed by Bradley in nothing but his compression shorts. "Welcome home, by the way. Looks like the perfect day to start on that playset."

Bradley didn't particularly want to jump down his throat, especially since Jake had been the one to promise to get the damn thing built for the baby if he didn't make it home in one piece. "Why are you here exactly?" he asked, and then he heard your voice from down the hallway.

"Is that Jake?"

"Yes," Bradley and Jake replied at the same time. And then you appeared wearing that old shirt and a pair of Bradley's gym shorts and your glasses, and he wanted to drag you back to bed and put his mouth everywhere.

"What the hell?" you asked, stomping right up to Jake, clearly annoyed that Bradley's face wasn't between your thighs. "You practically woke us up!"

"Well, that's not completely true," Bradley muttered with a smirk, earning a glare from you.

Jake checked the clock on the microwave. "It's 7:18. When you texted me last night and said Rooster was home, you told me to come over around seven."

"I meant seven in the evening!" you said, flailing your arms. "Like a normal person!"

Jake just shrugged and bit into a donut. "I brought the groceries you asked for."

Bradley watched you and saw the exact moment you caved. The annoyance on your face melted away as you grabbed a cream donut from the box. "Wait, why did you ask Jake to bring groceries over?"

You nibbled on the donut and snuggled up against Bradley, looking up at him as you said, "I wanted to make Reuben his cookies today, but I didn't want to leave you to go to the store."

He kissed some powdered sugar from your lips and whispered, "You're the sweetest thing."

You pressed your cheek to his chest and said, "Since he's here, you might as well get Jake to help you with the pallets on the driveway since I can't lift anything that heavy."

Bradley cringed just thinking about it. "You will not be lifting a fucking finger, Sweetheart. I'll take care of everything." He looked at Jake over your head and asked, "Feel like helping me get started on the playset?"

He had half of a second donut in his mouth as he mumbled, "I thought that's why I was here."

----------------------------

Bradley didn't put any more clothing on, and that was a-okay with you. He just added his work boots to the mix. Those black compression shorts were working overtime as he and an equally shirtless Jake hauled everything from the driveway to the backyard. He already cleared out the area where the playset would go, framed it in with long wood planks and filled it with gravel, and today they would start assembling the frame.

Your plan to make five dozen cookies for Reuben kept getting derailed as you wandered over to the sliding glass door every five minutes or so. The yard wasn't very big, and now most of it would be taken up by the patio, shed and playset, but you'd let your husband build anything he wanted back there. He was so excited about the baby, it made you feel lightheaded.

You were pregnant with a girl. Maybe she'd have Bradley's wavy hair. Maybe she would look just like him. You leaned against the open door frame and watched the guys as they argued about a drill bit setting and smiled. When you caught Bradley's eye, he shouted out, "I love you," before continuing with his discussion. He loved you so well, you already knew he'd be just as devoted to his daughter.

The oven started beeping, letting you know it had preheated. You ran your hand down your body and whispered, "Your father is going to spoil you rotten." Then you put the first tray of chocolate chip cookie dough in the oven, and within minutes your entire house smelled amazing. You baked so many cookies for Reuben, you didn't see how he would even be able to eat all of them before they got stale, so you shaped the last batch into little heart cookies with your fingers before tossing them in the oven.

Then when you took a bite out of one of the cookies that was cooling on the counter, you felt her. It was that same light, fluttering sensation as last time when you tried to eat a piece of candy on Halloween. "Hi," you whispered, voice laced with excitement. "Do you have a sweet tooth?" There was more fluttering, and you grabbed at the edge of the counter as you laughed. "You do! Are you going to eat everything I bake just like your dad?"

You closed your eyes and chewed the cookie slowly, letting yourself linger in the kitchen over the feel of your daughter doing some kind of a wild somersault for you.

"It's getting hot out," came Bradley's voice through the open door. "Let's grab some drinks before we drill the brackets into place." Once he was inside with Jake, he started digging around in the refrigerator, retrieving two cans of beer and two water bottles. "You okay, Sweetheart?" he asked as he handed Jake a bottle and a can. He was eyeing you cautiously where you stood with your hand on your belly. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you whispered, and now both men were looking at you. "The Nugget was just doing some backflips."

"She was?" Bradley asked in excitement, leaving his forgotten drinks on the counter next to the refrigerator. In an instant, he was on his knees in front of you, yanking your shirt up and kissing your belly button while his big, warm hands settled against you. "Is she still?"

"She?" Jake asked with a smile, and you smiled back while Bradley shushed him.

"I think it's still too early for you to feel anything this way," you whispered, tugging your fingers through Bradley's sweaty hair as his stubbled cheek came to rest on your bump.

"Hey, little Nugget," he murmured while Jake took his drinks and slipped back outside. "Can you let Daddy feel like one little thump?" You could feel her squirming around while he talked, but she was probably still too small for him to get what he wanted. "Please?"

You didn't rush him. Bradley just knelt there with his eyes closed for a few minutes while you played with his hair. Now that Jake knew you were having a girl, you may as well just call your parents this week and tell all of your friends as well.

Bradley groaned and hopped to his feet as soon as Jake started up one of his power tools on the patio. He kissed you, his sun-warmed torso pressed against you as he said, "I need to make sure he doesn't break anything." You were still laughing as he rushed outside.

---------------------------

The backyard was coming together nicely. After you fed Jake dinner and he finally left, Bradley undressed you and picked you up, setting you down on the edge of the counter where you could look out the window as the sky darkened. "You got a lot done today," you moaned while Bradley spread your legs and ate your pussy, picking up where he left off this morning. "Such a dedicated Daddy."

"Anything for the Nugget," he groaned before licking a long stripe up to your clit. His forehead bumped your growing belly which thrilled him as he slowly, meticulously brought you every bit of pleasure you should have had in bed earlier. His mind was swirling with all of the projects he had to do and the torn apart attic, and he was still exhausted from being away for so long. But he got lost in your taste and the sounds you were making as soon as he started sucking gently on your clit.

"You know what that fucking mustache does to me," you gasped while he tried not to grin. His fingers found your dainty tattoo, and he sucked on your clit a little harder until you were begging him to fuck you. He wanted to tell you no and draw your orgasm out of you on the kitchen counter, but then you demanded, "I want to come on your cock."

Carefully, so he didn't dare hurt you, he helped you slide off the counter and into his arms. "If this is uncomfortable for you, then you need to tell me, Baby Girl." But you were already spinning around and pressing your gorgeous ass back against him.

"Fuck me," you whined, and Bradley was more than happy to oblige.

He lined himself up with your slick entrance and pushed himself deep as he said, "I thought you told me you weren't as horny in the second trimester."

You were whimpering his name before you got control. "Well now that you're home, I guess I am."

"Music to my ears."

He went slowly, making sure you felt everything, and he cupped your belly and your fucking delicious breasts while you held onto the counter. Your body felt different to him, but in so many ways it was exactly the same. Your response never changed; you always welcomed him knowing he'd get you there no matter what. And you gripped him tight, rolling your hips back to meet him, stroke for stroke.

When he plucked at your nipples, you arched your back, and when he rolled your clit between his fingers, you started to come. He was right there, too, and you pushed him over the edge when you said, "Make a mess of my pussy, Roo."

"Damn it," he growled, lips pressed to your shoulder as he filled you up and kept himself thrust deep to enjoy the squeeze of your orgasm around him. When you straightened up but held him snug inside you, your head tipped back against his shoulder. "How was that, Sweetheart?" he crooned, and you moaned. Then your stomach growled loudly, and he chuckled.

"I'm so hungry. Didn't we just eat dinner?"

"My little Nugget is growing," he whispered, letting his chin rest on your shoulder so he could look at your tits. He brought his hands up so he could swipe his thumbs along your nipples. "I swear these fucking thing are getting bigger by the day," he mused while you reached for the plastic container of chocolate chip cookies. You held it up and let him take a bite before finishing the rest of it yourself. "Weren't these supposed to be for Reuben?" he asked.

You pointed to the island where several gallon sized bags were filled with cookies. "His are regular. The little heart shaped ones in this container are for you."

Bradley could have stood there forever with his hands all over the front of you and his softening cock still inside your pussy while you fed him heart shaped cookies and told him the baby was moving around again. "I want to feel her," he whispered.

Your head tipped back again as you said, "I know, Roo. Pretty soon she'll be kicking up a storm, excited about meeting her dad."

Then you started yawning and he finally took a reluctant step away from you. "It's time for bed," he said, patting your ass. "It was an early morning with Jake showing up and everything." He followed you to the bathroom and helped you clean up his cum from your legs, and then he waited until you were done washing your face and brushing your teeth to lead you to bed. He handed you a clean pair of his boxer briefs and watched you pull them up so the elastic sat just below your bump. He smiled, and before you could pull on his ancient UVA shirt, he pulled you closer.

"Can I help you with something?" you asked, giving him a coy look. "You ready to go for round two?"

He raised one eyebrow. "Are you ready to go for round two?" You were smiling but already stifling another yawn when he guided you toward the bed and tugged his shirt over your head. "You need to rest. I'll fuck you twice tomorrow."

You pulled the blanket up and whispered, "This is all Jake's fault."

Bradley snorted as he pulled the blanket back down, yanked up the shirt and leaned down to press his lips to your warm breasts. You whimpered as he kissed both nipples and ran his nose along your perfectly soft skin. "I can't get enough of these fucking things. My god, Sweetheart." He forced himself to pull the shirt back into place when you started to squirm, quickly kissing your bump first. After he removed your glasses and set them aside, he reached for the lamp on your nightstand.

"Aren't you getting in bed?"

He shook his head. "I'll clean the kitchen and let Tramp out first, and then I'll be in. I love you both."

"Love you, Roo," you curled up on your side, already falling asleep when you added, "You know what I'm hungry for?"

"What's that, Baby Girl?"

"Hot sauce."

He had to stifle his laughter as he whispered, "Finally. I'll take care of that tomorrow, too. I'll just add it to my list. Two rounds of sex, more playset building, and some hot sauce."

You were already sound asleep.

-----------------------------

When you got up on Sunday morning, Bradley and Tramp were nowhere to be found, but both Broncos were in the driveway. "Roo?" You were met with silence as you made yourself some coffee and filled a glass with water. He had covered the refrigerator in rows of ultrasound photos, and you couldn't help but laugh at the way he used up all of the magnets. You picked up one of the now stale donuts that Jake left, and that's when you found a note from your husband.

Walking Tramp to the beach. Back soon. I have my phone. Tell the Nugget I love her.

You smiled, looked down at your belly and said, "Your Daddy loves you." The way she immediately started to squirm and flutter around had you reaching for the counter. "Feels like you love him, too."

You moved his note to the side, and your fingers brushed a handwritten list, partially folded up and sitting on top of all of Bradley's unopened mail that you'd collected. The last time you went through his things, you ended up in a very dark place after you saw the results from the sperm test he took. You didn't want to do that again. You could just want until he got home. He wouldn't be long now.

But you stood there and read the first two things written which weren't hidden from your view. Contact lawyer. Send check to Nicole.

Who was Nicole? And why was Bradley contacting a lawyer without you? Your skin prickled as you reached for the piece of paper before pushing it further away. You considered going to get your phone from the bedroom to call him and tell him to come home, but instead you stood there and got frustrated. You did not want to do this to yourself again.

When he walked inside a few minutes later wearing snug gym shorts and a white tank, he was all smiles as Tramp ran for his water bowl. "Morning," he rasped, yanking his aviators down lower on his nose as he hung up the leash. "You look cute."

You didn't though. You hadn't showered, and you didn't even brush your teeth yet. "Can we talk about what's on this list?"

His brow furrowed and he froze. "What list?"

"This one," you said as calmly as you could. "The one where you wrote about contacting a lawyer and someone named Nicole."

He made his way over to you and asked, "How much did you read?" as he tossed his sunglasses on the counter.

You crossed your arms over your bump and frowned. "That's all I read."

"Good." He snatched it up, unfolded it and handed it to you. "It's my list of things I want to take care of today or tomorrow."

You read the list from top to bottom.

Contact lawyer

Send check to Nicole for permit

Order album for ultrasounds

Call Bradley Ross

Hot sauce reservation for my Baby Girl

Text Reuben

Offer to babysit Jeremiah

Order a new drill bit to replace the one Jake broke

Decide on Thanksgiving plans

"Oh," you said, meeting his eyes as you handed it back to him. "Who's Bradley Ross?"

He folded up the list again as he said, "The contractor who is going to re-do our attic however you want it."

"Oh." You pressed your lips together before you asked, "Are you going to tell me why you want to talk to a lawyer and who Nicole is?"

"Come here," he rasped, and you tucked yourself into his arms, your lips brushing his paper airplane tattoo. "I want a lawyer to add the Nugget to my will. And I think you should come with me to make sure literally everything is in order. for yourself, too." You nodded against him, and then he added, "And I really don't want to tell you who Nicole is, because it will ruin the surprise. But I've never even met her, and I have no idea who she actually is."

"That sounds weird."

"It's not, I promise, Sweetheart."

You looked up into his eyes, his gaze soft as he ran his hand slowly up and down your back. You already felt better just talking to him. "Fine. Keep your secrets. But the surprise had better be a good one."

He nodded. "It's something for our anniversary. You'll love it. Now why don't you bring your coffee outside and keep me company while I work on the playset?"

You were starting to melt. "I could do that."

"Then we can take a shower together?" he asked hopefully. "You can wash my hair?"

You melted a little bit more. "I would love that."

"And then I'll take you out to dinner."

You sat out on the patio in the sun for a while, not doing much to help Bradley other than occasionally catcall and make sure he drank enough water. Then you took a luxurious shower, complete with hair washing and sex against the wall. He was taking you up to the hot sauce restaurant in Del Mar where you had your first date, and you squeezed yourself into the red dress you wore that night.

Bradley was acting like his brain was short circuiting, and maybe it was. "Holy fucking hell," he groaned, gripping the edge of the dresser when he came to check to see if you were ready to go. He was staring at you like he was in agony as he bit down on his knuckle. He let out a soft wheezing sound before he said, "You're pregnant. In your red dress."

You looked down at yourself; you didn't think it looked that bad. "Yes?"

He rushed forward and grabbed your hand. "That's so fucking sexy. We've gotta go. Now. Or else we'll never leave the house."

"Roo!" you laughed as he pulled you along. "I don't even have shoes on."

He threatened to carry you everywhere before you successfully put on a cute pair of shoes. Then you and he dropped the cookies off at Reuben's place, and you gave the other aviator a kiss on the cheek and thanked him for looking after Bradley. And then the two of you were back in the blue Bronco, winding up the coastal highway as the sun set over the ocean. It was nearly Thanksgiving. It was almost your first wedding anniversary. The Nugget was back to doing somersaults. And finally, you were craving hot sauce again.

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This man already loves his kiddo. BG is about to have a do over for the steak dinner that got ruined when she was in Annapolis. I still don't know what they are doing for Thanksgiving (good thing it's on his to-do list), but they will definitely be celebrating their first anniversary very soon! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 4

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suashii · 4 months

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— 𝒹𝑒𝑒𝓅 𝒹𝑜𝓌𝓃 ౨ৎ

bakugo katsuki x reader. 1.2k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ reader and bakugo are both sidekicks ﾉ and roommates :3 ﾉ mentions of food

the life of a hero sidekick isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. sure, working under some of the world’s most notable names who put their lives on the line for others is honorable, but it doesn’t feel that way when, instead of fighting beside them on the frontlines, you’re stuck dealing with the aftermath of takedowns or tasked with handling nothing but paperwork all day. as menial as those tasks sound, they can feel almost as exhausting as brawling with villains.

though, as you sluggishly drag yourself to the intersection that leads to your apartment, you remind yourself that you should be grateful for the work. not everyone has the means to start their own agency so soon out of UA, you included. in a few years, once you’ve earned enough money and have established your name as a hero, you’ll be the one calling the shots.

a tiny bit of the tension in your shoulders that’s been building throughout the day dissipates when you spot a familiar head of blonde hair at the intersection. he’s got one of his gauntlets tucked under his arm and the unoccupied hand is busy tapping away at his phone. the eye mask of his costume is pushed up on his forehead, holding back sweaty strands of light hair.

“katsuki~” you whine as you approach him, tossing your head back dramatically. vermillion eyes are torn away from his phone as he looks up at you with a frown coloring his features. you reckon he’s annoyed that you’re making such a public display. you don’t care though, choosing to rest your forehead against his arm when you finally reach him.

“what’s your problem?” he gruffly asks. despite his tone, he doesn’t shrug you off, only stuffs his phone in his pocket and waits for your response, eyes cast to the side to look at you.

“work was so boring and i’m so tired,” you complain to him with closed eyes. even hearing the bustling of the city around you makes your limbs feel heavy. you inhale a deep breath, hoping that the fresh air outside of the stuffy office you’d been trapped in all day will energize you enough to make it home, but you’re met with the scent of sweat instead. it makes you frown and pull away from bakugo’s arm. “you stink.”

realization dawns on you. “don’t tell me you actually got to do something today?”

he smirks, having predicted this reaction from you. despite the job description, eventful days aren’t as frequent as most think. and, although it’s childish, the fact that bakugo’s dry spell ended before yours makes him feel as though he’s won some sort of unspoken competition. “some low life happened to be active while i was patrolling with jeanist.”

“how could you?” you grab a hold of his arm and shake it petulantly. “i thought we were in the sad sidekick life together.”

bakugo shakes you off, flicking your forehead to deter you from trying again. you huff and pout, hand reaching up to soothe the subtle sting on your face. when you meet your traitorous companion’s gaze, there’s no guilt lingering in it. “you’re so dramatic.”

you ignore his comment and turn to face the crosswalk in a silent tell that you’re ready to start heading home. the man beside you mirrors your actions. the pedestrian light is flashing red and the sight makes you wonder which sounds worse—standing here even a minute longer or braving the walk back to your apartment.

with a weak sigh, you rest your head on your companion’s arm. “katsuki, carry me home.”

you can hear the grimace in his voice when he tells you, “no.”

“please?”

“no.”

“pleaseeee?”

he gives you a ride home on his back. even though he voices his exasperation the whole way there—not stopping even when he’s digging around his pocket for his keys—bakugo is sure to swerve out of the way of tree branches and carefully navigate his wide frame through the building’s main doorway all so you don’t bump into anything.

though, it seems like by the time you’ve finally made it inside your shared apartment, the man’s patience and generosity have run out. he stops in front of the couch and lets the hands supporting your thighs fall to his side, leaving you to drop rather ungracefully onto the piece of furniture. you shoot his back a glare as he makes his way to the kitchen.

you’re ready to sink into the softness of the couch and give in to the fatigue that’s been wearing at you all day when the clash of pots and pans sounds throughout the air. you don’t have the energy to peer around the couch to see what’s going on in the next room, so, instead, you speak up over the noise. “what are you making?”

a beat of silence passes, and then two, and you’re almost sure bakugo is disregarding your question when you finally get a reply. “yakisoba.”

your stomach practically growls at just the word. you know you’re testing your luck with the next words that come out of your mouth but they’re almost automatic. “make me some?”

“just who the hell do you think i am?” he asks from behind you. “your personal assistant?”

the question makes your lips curl up in a smile, partly because of his palpable irritation but mostly because the thought of the man being at your beck and call is an entertaining mental image.

“the position is open. you interested?”

“hell no,” he mutters. “and you can make your own dinner.”

“boo,” you draw out the vowel and tip your thumb down over the back of the couch, though you can’t be sure he sees it.

sometime during the rhythmic chopping of vegetables and sizzling of oil in a pan, your eyes close as you situate yourself comfortably on the couch. the sound of bakugo cooking is almost like a lullaby, you think as your focus fades and sleep begins to tug at you.

the scent of the noodle dish and a subtle warmth radiating near you stop you from falling asleep. you lazily open your eyes to find a bowl of stir fried noodles and vegetables in front of you. as you reach out to grab the bowl, your eyes shoot up to find bakugo’s, a small yet victorious smile pulling at your lips.

scarlet eyes narrow even though you haven’t said anything, like he can hear the thoughts you haven’t spoken. “i made too much so you’re just getting the extra.”

you hum in agreement, busy stuffing a mouthful of the “extra” noodles past your lips. the cushion beside you dips with katsuki’s weight as he takes a seat beside you. despite him playing it off, the man’s generosity doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

“thanks for dinner,” you tell him, nudging his thigh with your foot. “and carrying me here.”

“yeah, well, my kindness isn’t free.”

you raise your eyebrows as you chew. “oh yeah? what do i owe you in return?

he shrugs. “i’ll let you know when i think of something.”

or maybe he’ll let you off easy this time.

thanks for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment :>

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: my hero academia #bakugo x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bakugo x you #mha x you #bakugo drabble #mha drabbles #bakugo fluff #mha fluff

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macfrog · 4 months

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psyche and cupid | one shot

happy valentine's, beautiful people. i love you with all of my heart. xx shoutout to @familyvideostevie for putting joel's slutty little thigh holster into my head and, well. yeah. pairing: jackson!joel miller x fem!reader summary: valentine's day with joel doesn't go to plan. warnings: part two never happened!!!!! abby who!!!, established relationship, cursing, half joel pov, unspecified age gap, hints to reader having a sliver of ptsd, jesse is alive and well because he is my prince and i said so, reader has dark pubic hair, masturbation, somnophilia (not discussed in this fic but she is a-ok with it) and therefore dubcon, sprinkle of praise kink, oral (f!receiving), someone comes in his underwear, these two goofballs are big in love word count: 5.5k

main masterlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🩷

It’s not in his nightstand.

Not hung over the newel post, either.

He said he left it on the kitchen counter yesterday, right after he got home; said he woke up this morning and it was gone. And then he muttered something of an accusation that someone had tidied it away and forgotten where, and that started a whole new argument.

You know what, Joel? You’re following his tall figure as it sways down the hallway, his strides longer and considerably smoother than your flurrying shadow in his wake. Maybe if you weren’t going out today, we wouldn’t be having this problem.

His chin tilts upward, salt and pepper scruff angled to the ceiling with a ha slung from his throat. Yeah, he tosses a glance over his shoulder, we’d just be havin’ it tomorrow, instead.

You scoff in response, stepping where his boots lift off from, following the heavy thud thud thud like a cat at his heels until he’s rounding the corner towards your bedroom.

You pass over the messy trail of your jeans and Joel’s pajama bottoms, your underwear and his leading in a trail to the unmade bed – sheets like a rippled wave painted golden by the dawn.

The two of you split off – Joel lifts the cotton and watches it float back down over the flat of your mattress. Nothing.

You take the closet – the squeal of metal on metal harsh in your sleepy ears as you shove the hanging clothes aside, swiping around at the floor. Also, unsurprisingly, nothing.

Deflated, you straighten, stars peppering your vision and a tatty sleepshirt pinched in your fingers. Led Zeppelin – some band Joel was into before everything went to shit. You’ve listened to him out on the porch before, plucking strings in time with the record wobbling on the turntable inside.

The collar torn, sleeves pecked with holes, print lost to the years and the dryer – but each time you drape it over your shoulders, he smiles and hums some song from a world you’ll never know.

It’s sweet, when you’re in the mood to be wooed.

Which, incidentally, is not right fucking now.

His eyes flit down to the peeling, grayscale image – and that same smile attempts to bloom on his lips. That’s cute, but it ain’t my holster, pretty bird.

His smirk dampens quickly when he looks back up, snuffed by your stony expression.

You whip the tee down to the foot of the bed. You are a piece of fuckin’ work sometimes, do you know that? you growl, storming by him for the en suite.

Joel’s rough hand slips around your wrist, tugging gently but letting you drag him through to the bathroom.

Just go, Joel, you groan, the chill of the room prickling goosebumps on your naked legs. Give me some peace and quiet. ‘s not like I’m gonna be seein’ much of you today, anyways.

Is that what this is about? His voice echoes in the morning blue, round in your ears as you hang your head over the sink. Pickin’ a fight ‘cause you’re pissed I’m goin’ out?

I didn’t start the fight, you protest. You’re the one who lost his holster.

Didn’t lose it… he mumbles, lips closing around the sentence when he catches your glare in the mirror. He crosses one ankle over the other, toe of his dusty boot on the cracked tile, and sighs. What do you want me to do, baby? I gotta do my job.

On Valentine’s Day? When I worked extra to get it off, and you can’t even get your brother to swap one shift?

Joel’s expression seems to stiffen, tense with a realization that you know, and now he knows, too – he should’ve had days ago. A weighty breath falls from his nostrils, admitting some kind of defeat, and then he’s wandering carefully over to you, two hands curved over your shoulders.

He lowers his forehead onto the nape of your neck, a slow breath which flutters the loose collar of the flannel you’re wearing and sweeps down your spine. I’m sorry, pretty bird. I didn’t know it meant that much to ya.

It doesn’t, you admit, adding, usually. I just thought we could have a day to ourselves, for once.

He’s nodding, sweep of his fringe tickling the slope of your skin. It’d be a lot more romantic than spendin’ it with Jesse, that’s for sure.

Your bodies fall together with a shared laugh, a bright and charming thing in the dull bathroom light. Joel kisses the soft cushion of your shoulder and hooks his chin over, beard grazing your skin.

I’ll be back before you know it. ‘n then we can do whatever the hell you got planned for us, hm?

He’s steady behind you when you lean back, turning to place a damp kiss to the hinge of his jaw. A reply, a plea – a promise.

In the echoing dripdripdrip from the faucet, Joel pulls apart from you, two fingers pinching the hem of your shirt to pull you back into the bedroom.

You wanna walk me to the gate? he asks, pulling the zipper on his jacket.

What about your holster?

He smiles. I’m sure I’ll survive without it. C’mon. Put some pants on.

February is bitter even by Jackson’s standards – a bite of ice in the air which numbs the tip of your nose and stings the helix of your ears. The chill slips a long, sharp finger down the collar of your – Joel’s jacket, and you wrap the baggy canvas tighter around yourself.

Told you to wear som’ thicker. Joel sighs, grip light around the strap of his shotgun. His elbow nudges into yours, a wide arm wraps around your shoulder and draws you flush against his side. Head on back if you’re cold, he says, rubbing until the friction warms your upper arm.

I’m fine, you lie, eyeing the line of horses up ahead. The eager crunch of their hooves in the frozen ground, the pinkish light on their backs from the sky flooded crimson overhead – a warning from the horizon, you think.

It seems to agitate the animals as much as it does you, their heavy heads tossing nervously, ears flicking and inky eyes blinking.

Jesse meets you by the paddock, slipping Joel the reins of his horse with a curt nod, before hoisting himself atop his own.

It bleats from your lips before you can hold it back. Be careful.

Your frozen fingers claw around the zipper of his coat, tugging it upwards until it brushes against his bottom lip. The weather gets bad, you turn back. Okay?

He’s nodding, paying half his attention to your words, the other half to the little crease between your brows. Sure could use my holster against the cold, baby, he mutters, smirk lifting his cheeks and folding similar creases at the corners of his eyes.

Your eyes narrow, palms landing flat against his strong chest. Home soon?

He hums a little laugh, lips ghosting across your temple as he shifts by. Home soon, he mutters, breath steaming against your cold skin, and he leads the mare off towards the gate.

There’s a lot about Joel you admire.

Each part of him like a pebble stolen on a hike; some more jagged, a little more weathered than others, some well-rounded and smooth to the touch. Each one turned and turned and turned between your fingers until you’re fluent in every pore and vein, then dropped into your pocket alongside the others you’ve collected.

Clacking against one another until you arrive home, coat heavier with the happy burden of how much you love him. The same weight you feel behind your ribcage when you think too much about it.

He takes good care of you – has done since you first happened across one another. As if hanging his hunting jacket over your frail body was a wing over your shoulders; as if, from then on, you would never make a single move again without your grizzly bear of a man making it first.

Quiet about it, sure. Subtle. Opens the crook of his elbow for you to hook your wrist around as you wander through town together, and waits until you’re under the cover of nightfall or behind the close of your front door to do much else.

Asks with little more than a fleeting glance if you’re okay; a squeeze of your knee under the table in the dining hall. A conversation shared between closed lips and the meeting of his honey-flecked gaze, and yours. A language which lives and dies with the pair of you.

He’s guarded – and for all that he’s been through, you figure you can allow him that. Allow him his private peace. For all that he says without saying, all he does without making some big song and dance of it – there hasn’t been a second since you arrived here on the back of his horse, that you haven’t known he loves you.

It’s in him like it’s in you. A fever which broke at the first touch of his hand and yours, the first meeting of his warmth and your chill. Two opposites – cooling the painful sear in his heart, warming the barren frost in yours. Something sewn deep into your flesh, carved right through to the hollow of your bones.

And Jesus, if it doesn’t drive you fucking insane.

The front yard needs tidied up after winter, you notice, as you scuff your way up the path towards the porch. Once the last of the snow dries up, you two can get to repairing the damage done by the blizzards and the gales: fitting new shutters, planting new bulbs.

A cycle you’re still getting used to: the upkeep of a place called home. The strange feeling of having someone you call the same thing.

Your extra shifts at the stables and Joel’s long mornings out on the trails mean your home has gone neglected for a few days. Dishes and cutlery left in the sink, a pile of laundry slowly sprouting to new heights like a wild plant each time you cast a wary glance at it.

It’s not like you’ve much else to do, given Joel won’t be home for at least another couple hours. So you shuck off your jeans, letting the tail of his shirt dangle from your behind, and pick your way around each room – wiping counters and dusting corners, humming along to the crooning old records as they spin in the background.

Playing house at the end of the world. Pretending to listen for the tired exhale of a yellow school bus, mimicking the electrified babble of radio presenters between each track.

The bedroom is arguably the worst offender. Bedsheets used a few days too long, clothes strung across the floor – the relics of a late one at the Tipsy Bison. It’s no wonder you’re so fucking tired.

Echoes of stumbling footsteps and hushed, drunken giggles loop your ears, the groaning bedsprings and blunt thud of the headboard. You pluck the underwear and socks one by one, your body wincing around a satisfied ache still lingering, and shuffle over to the laundry hamper, lifting the lid to –

The dopey smile on your lips dissolves instantly. You gotta be fucking…

The buckle glints in the light, silver blinking up at you from its bed of dirty laundry. The tan strap coiled and neatly slung through its fastener; the pouch empty. Awkward and ashamed, lying there in front of you. Apologetic, almost.

Your eyes roll closed; a short, hot breath seeping past your lips. A silent promise embedding beneath your tongue to take him by the sleeve as soon as he crosses the threshold, force him to lift the lid himself. An I told you so already brewing in the pit of your stomach.

The holster’s actually pretty heavy when you lift it up in the light. Leather a little worn, stitching frayed where it should clip around his belt.

It’s the size and width of him: a thick, toned thigh slotted inside the loop of leather, fixed by fingers long void of feeling when he’s been riding to the outpost, chasing infected, plunging his knife deep into their necks.

Patrol was never your thing. Joel took you out just once – but there are cracks in your past which threaten to split you in two, it seems, the longer you spend outside the settlement walls. Phantoms which follow close behind in the form of snapping twigs, of the wind rustling in the trees overhead. Shadows living in your periphery with curled sneers and spits of filth.

You lasted twenty minutes, that first and only day, before Joel had your horses tied together and your body shelled in his own, taking you straight back home.

But the thought of this around his thigh, the thought of him adjusting it to the waistband of his jeans; his hand floating down to settle gently atop it when he’s listening for danger approaching, two fingers slipping into the trigger guard.

It…stirs something.

You pad over to the bathroom, hopping as you step into the strap. He wears it on his right leg, right? You pull it past your ankle, ball of your foot slamming clumsily back down on the tile.

Adjusting it to fit your thigh, you bunch the hem of his shirt in one fist and stare back at your reflection. Her nervous stance, hips swaying left to right as she peruses the figure opposite.

Who is she, this mirage – naked thigh decorated with her man’s leather, fingernails tracing the messy stitching and imagining the weight of his gun, keen in the pouch?

A strange aura of possession about it, like a part of him locked firm around a part of you, from however many miles away. You swear you can feel the ghost of his warmth on the inside of the strap, wrapped around your sensitive skin.

Yeah.

Stirs something, alright.

Joel’s been gone little over an hour. He’s probably at the outpost by now, logging All clear and pretending to let Jesse take the lead. Wide shoulders swaying as he wanders from room to room, a careful scope of the valley from each window, tongue tracing the bottom of his teeth.

Ridges of his knuckles white around the grip of his shotgun, squinting down the barrel. Lines drawn between his brows and at the corners of his eyes like scores on parchment, focus and concentration tight on his face.

You sink back into the cradle of your bed, that divot where his body and yours meet each night. Each part of you intertwining with a part of him: the place where you become one. His smell and your touch, your giggle and his teeth.

A sudden, powerful thing which hammers through your veins and jumps your body for a few seconds – you pull the first orgasm from between your legs within a matter of minutes. The sight of his shirt disturbed over your stomach, the feeling of blood squeezing past taut leather enough to throw you under by itself, never mind the fast snap of your fingers deep inside your body.

Another – slower, lazier, still vibrating from the first – then almost a third, but the crinkle of sheets at your ears, the pillow-soft landscape beneath your heavy body, begins to sweep you off somewhere.

And in as little time as it took to entice you into the water in the first place, you slip beneath the waves.

The house is quiet when he finally makes it home.

Jesus, Joel thinks, what a shift.

Not one infected the entire run, he can’t quite believe – but Jesse caught his palm on some warped sheet of chain link fence, then almost passed out when he looked down and saw the scarlet seeping from his shredded skin.

The pair sat for half an hour, unsheltered in the unforgiving wind, waiting for the kid’s head to stop spinning and the cold to rob the feeling from his hand.

All Joel wanted was to get home to you. You, and your hips swaying as you stand by the stove, and his hands kneading into the velvet plush of your waist, and the smell of burnt sausages and spatter of angry oil from the pan.

He’s so late. He said he’d be as quick as he could, said you’d barely know he was gone, and he’s so fucking late.

But he’s here now, at least.

He’s home.

As he kicks off his boots, snow sprinkling from the soles onto the doormat, he notices the absence of your arms around his waist. The missing weight at the back of him, no ear flat against his spine and hands interlocked above his belt. No relieved, I missed you, no nuzzle of your head under his arm.

The house is still and dim. The turntable spins in the corner, a dead crackle playing nothing for no one. Joel sniffs, eyeing the room and its new, orderly form: the books slotted neatly on their shelves, the rings of coffee wiped clean from the table.

Lifting the needle from the record, Joel calls out, Baby?

Maybe you’re in town somewhere. Maybe you’ve gone to spend the morning with the horses. But then, you would’ve been watching for his arrival. Would’ve skipped out from the stables and swung around his body, a gleeful smile and an outstretched hand. Take me home, cowboy.

And you wouldn’t have left the lights still burning, the player still turning. Your coat is still on its hook, smaller and brighter and where it belongs on the right of Joel’s. The cushions on the couch are fluffed and smooth, perched contentedly in place; the curtains draped in their tie backs.

You’re home. You’ve been home all morning.

So where the fuck are you?

Joel crosses over to the bottom of the stairs, blinking up at the painted cowboys and horses staring down from the landing. Calls your name, a faint singsong as he slowly ascends the stairs. You up there?

Down the wintery dull hallway to the bedroom door, figuring he knows the answer. And he’s right, isn’t he, when he nudges the door open and peers inside, spots the tiny lump of you in your double bed. Sunk deep into the mattress – covers you’d come in here to change, swallowing you whole.

A crooked, exhausted smile pulls across his lips; his thumb hooks around a belt loop, knee cocking.

You’re so…perfect. So heavenly, so still like this – stretched out on your front, breathing in the scent of his pillow and breathing out little puffs of air.

Joel leans over you, a heavy hand pushing into the mattress above your shoulder, and runs a featherlight knuckle over your cheek.

Pretty bird? he whispers, lighter than the long breaths from your sleep-swollen lips.

You don’t stir. No movement, save for the rise and fall of your shoulders wrapped up in his flannel.

Joel feels a pang of guilt, numbed only by the chill still through his body: he woke you this morning, before even the sun had lifted her head. Had you hunting all over the house with him, for some dumb holster that he wound up not even n–

His eyes trail down the shape of your body, draped in the sheets like white marble carved into the round shape of something beautiful, hands following the curve of your thigh. His wrist freezes when it meets the odd bulge of something, an awkward bump beneath the cotton.

He peels the sheet back, lifting it from your shoulders, your waist, your hips – until your angled thigh lies on full display for his feasting eyes.

His fucking holster…wrapped tight around your fucking thigh.

A disbelieving laugh at first – a She told me so, before he notices the indents in your skin, the stretched leather snug around your leg, riding higher than it should at the doing of your slumber.

Christ, baby, he breathes, stare glued to the folds of plaid hooked around the belt loop. Following the tatty hem down past your hip, along the underside of your ass – riding up some, right where your legs part.

And between them, all sheer and thin, twisted around itself and slipping between: your underwear. The threading of pubic hair peeking over the frilled hem of it; the sight filling Joel’s mouth with saliva.

A heavy heat forms in his jeans, an irritable weight which aches when he moves; which hardens when he pictures the image of you in his bed, his shirt, his holster wrapped around your thigh – playing with yourself while he’s been gone.

Fuck. Fuckin’…shit.

He lowers, running lips he knows are freezing cold along the burning surface of your skin, tongue slipping past his teeth to drag a wet trail along your thigh.

Your leg shifts under his touch, the startle of his chilled fingertips behind your knee, nuzzling of his nose where the holster sits smugly on your thigh. Smelling like leather and salt, the sticky sheen of sweat still glowing on your skin.

Joel takes your waist in two hands – he can’t fucking help himself, can he? – and turns you, patiently, watching as you roll onto your back so he can drag you further down the bed. Tongue flicking at the corners of his lips, thirsty for something he only wants you to feed him.

Slow, slowly. Every effort put into not waking you, to keeping you in this peachy haze between asleep and awake; your movements long and staggered, held firm against the mattress by the weight of your doze.

With a sigh, your jaw turns to one side. Joel pulls you in, kneeling at the edge of the bed with your socked feet resting on his shoulders. His shirt gathers around your waist; your hips and the thin twine of your underwear spotlighted by stripes of weakened sunlight spilling in through the blinds.

Oh, pretty bird, he groans, slipping his open palms under your ass, rough and squeezing the pillows of flesh in his hands. This all for me?

A moan wrapped in a hefty breath twists from your lips. Your knees fall limp; legs open almost eagerly, like your body inviting him in. And he accepts, takes it with eyes blown black and hungry lips parted – leans in and nestles his nose against the thrumming heartbeat pounding through your clit.

Such a good girl, he whispers, closing his lips in a kiss over your clothed mound, and your hips jolt.

You’re so fucking warm. So wet; sticky and so ready for him. He kisses your folds, suckling gently and letting his tongue dart along the inseam of your lips in flicking movements – collecting the taste of salt and feeling his cock throb against rough denim.

Off? he asks – you and the room and himself – fingers hooking around the underwear rolled on your hips.

When your back arches, body feeling the loss of his tender kiss, rolling like a wave seeking to crash against the steady rock form of his – he smirks to himself.

Joel nods. Off.

He takes his time peeling them from your body, watching as more and more of his paradise is revealed. The waves of your folds, the sheer glisten of arousal along them; the dark hair peppering either side as damp and slick as the skin beneath it.

Your panties drop from a hooked finger without a sound and he turns back, hovering over your waiting cunt with wide eyes and a slack jaw. Out front, voices call back and forth to one another – some neighborly greeting and affable conversation – but Joel doesn’t hear. Deafened to anything but the sound of your sighs and his own blood hammering through his ears.

It’s a little rushed, a tad rough, the way he presses his lips back to yours. The way his beard grazes against your most sensitive spot, and the gasp he swears he hears lift from your tongue.

But fuck, he’s missed this, the way he always does – without knowing, without actively thinking about it, without knowing it was even at home waiting for him. If his mind weren’t on an entirely different planet right now, he’d curse that goddamn chain link for holding him up, for keeping him away longer than thirty seconds from the sweet little angel resting in his bed, and the sweet little pussy between her legs.

He parts your thighs wider, tongue dipping lower and deeper as he laps at your core, almost fucking panting against it.

You squirm lazily beneath him, shoulders tensing and untensing, a half-limp wrist lifting to pet his hair and an attempt at his name between your lips. Joel, you whimper, thick with sleep and something more dangerous.

I know, baby, he’s telling you, I know, and his tongue slips inside again. His hips grind into the mattress, cock an agonizing stiff against the sturdy edge. He can feel the wet in his boxers, the precome sticking to the inside of the cotton.

Fuck, he wants to be inside you so badly, so desperately.

Another gasp sputters across your lips, cut short in your throat when his teeth bump against your clit.

Too hungry, too brash, he thinks. You’re too soft, too open for him to let it go to waste. Not like this.

He pulls back, a filthy thread of arousal and saliva between his open lips and yours, and places a sodden kiss to the inside of your thigh.

But you whine, you poor little thing – your head twisting to the other side, a second hand now blindly surfing across his shoulder, past the brush of his beard and sifting through his still-chilly hair. The loss of attention to your pussy aching between your legs; your hips lifting weakly to meet the scratch of his chin again.

And that same sound – that same Jo-oel – a sound like song, like saccharine dripping over his shoulders.

So, he lifts a hand – two middle fingers coming together to push open your cunt, instantly sliding in knuckle-deep. Sucked in by the wet mess left behind by his lips, stretching you out with slow, round movements.

You’re slowly stirring, blossoming from your sleep and turning slowly back into this world. The cold edges seeping in, the warm flush of pleasure sharpening at their meeting. He’d do anything, he thinks, to keep you here; keep you teetering on the edge, tangled up between your world and his.

J– oh, fu-uck, you whine, and he can tell you’re still blinkered by sleep. But you grind on him again – a long, languid movement which seems to spatter out at its end when the coarse hair of his beard catches against your clit.

The breath stops in your throat, punching out in a shuddered moan. Joel could come just from the sound of it.

You gonna give me one, baby girl? he pleads, forearms clamping down on the underside of your thighs. Desperate – desperate to feel you, hear you, taste you as you come undone. Just one.

You’re writhing around beneath him, as needy as he is. A winding which matches his, coiling at the bottom of your stomach; a feeling which pulls at the corners of your lips and shocks them into a smutty, half-conscious smile. Your eyes roll back, fluttering open and then snapping shut when the light floods in.

There, you say, clearest so far, movements the strongest he’s felt. Your fingers root in his hair, rough over his scalp. Keep – keep doin’ that.

Joel smiles against your mound; a cocky thing, emboldened by the sound of that little Texan twang, the curl of an accent which doesn’t belong to you. Rather, a result of your years spent with him, watching the way his mouth shapes the words, learning the low swing and swirling melody of his tongue.

As if he’s as alive within you as he is within himself; every little thing Joel knows is him, injected into your bloodstream – his dry wit, his blunt honesty, his thick fingers and his insatiable tongue.

He slips in a third, flicking them perfectly inside of you. Beckoning your release; tongue sitting in wait, a resting point for you to grind your clit against.

And he wants it as much as you do: wants to feel the clamping of your body around him, wants to taste the flood of your orgasm as it shocks through every bone in your body.

Wants to pull three soaked, pruned fingers from your pussy and slip them over your tongue, letting you clasp your fingers around his wrist; watching the half-dozing flutter of your eyelashes as you suckle on them and make those pretty little sounds for him.

Your hand knots tighter in his hair, pelvis circling steady against his suckling lips. He can smell it on you: smell the need seeping from your pores. The sleep spilling from the corners of your mouth, the happy whimpers and quiet cries for more, more, Joel, more.

And – Shit, he breathes against you, feeling a sudden rush of electricity he knows all too well between his hips. Not now, not now not before he’s been inside – Shit, baby, gotta let me go.

You whine in refusal – a petulant sound, all stubborn and greedy. ‘m so close, I –

Pretty bird, he groans, lifting his jaw. He places a messy kiss to the crease between your core and your thigh, wrist stammering with his sudden movements. You gotta – you gotta let go, you’re gonna make me come –

You’re echoing him, mumbling the words gonna, gonna come – fuck, Joel, ‘m gonna –

Shit.

Not – Fuck – not right n– Christ, baby girl, you’re gonna – you’re –

Your walls spasm, clamping and relaxing, squeezing around his huge fingers. But it’s not that – it’s not the gush of warm fluid which seeps from between your legs, coating his knuckles and dripping into his palm.

It’s not the arch of your back, the way your breasts lift to the ceiling and his shirt slips below one nipple. Not the way your head rolls back against the mattress, a broken moan tearing in shards from your throat.

No.

It’s the way your hands leave his hair in an instant, and grip around the leather on your thigh. Skin stretching thin over your knuckles, thumbs between the strap and your sticky skin; hips still riding out your high as you ground yourself, holding onto his holster.

And it makes Joel come. Hard.

Harder than he knew possible, grinding against a mattress and the inside of his fucking jeans.

He falls forward, breathing a guttural moan into the soft swell of your stomach below your navel, fingers hooking into the baggy shirt around your arms.

Shitshitshit, he pants, feeling the warm ejaculate spurt from his cock and all over the inside of his boxers. Oh, fuck, baby. Fuck me.

His hips shudder a few more times, pressing hard into the edge of the mattress before he’s coming down, slowing to a stop – still a leaden weight on your stomach. His cock almost painful, overstimulated and oversensitive.

But then – something gently tittering. A bird singing, cooing above his head. The ground beneath his temple shakes, tremors with laughter. The dust twinkles in the sunlight, now brighter, golden, streaming through the window.

You’re awake.

Joel drags his gaze upwards, bleary and glazed with sex, and catches your eye.

Feel good? you ask, sifting hair away from his damp forehead. When was the last time that happened? Fourteen?

I don’t wanna talk about it, he mumbles into your belly.

Your chest jumps, a laugh which echoes into Joel’s ear. Tastes that good, huh?

It takes a mighty effort for him to push up on his palms, slowly crawling up the length of your body until his elbows plant firm into the mattress either side of your head. He groans as he lowers his lips, parting them to let you slip your tongue inside.

The kiss is slow, tender. Your bodies melding together, teeth clacking and jaws moving in sync. A sharp taste, sweet with a singe of bitterness to it. Perfect, you think, smirking against Joel’s cool lips.

He pulls away, lips tickling the tip of your nose deliberately.

With a giggle, you push on his chest. You should shower. You smell like patrol.

Joel cocks an eyebrow. You comin’ in with me?

Nope. I got even more laundry to do now, old man.

He entertains the quip with a subtle smile, a thing which softens the creases on his face and lights a twinkle in his eyes. Quietly, genuinely, in a way which makes your heart ache a little, he whispers, Sorry I was workin’, pretty bird.

You shrug. ‘s okay. You made up for it. And – I found your holster. You lift your knee, letting the buckle shine in the sunlight.

You did that, Joel agrees, nodding and glancing down at the thing. He hooks a finger around the strap, giving it a little shake. Maybe I oughta lose it more often.

Hm, you shrug, or I can just keep it safe for ya. Looks good, don’t it?

He feigns a disappointed smile, a resigned sigh before he looks back up.

Better ‘n when I wear it, he admits, and his lips crash down to yours again.

#same universe as 'wish you were here' - if you want #joel miller #jackson!joel #joel miller fic #the last of us #tlou fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #tw somnophilia #tw dubcon

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teamatsumu · 8 months

Text

kinktober 2023 -> day 15

morning sex - bokuto koutaro

word count: 1064

kinktober masterlist

Volleyball season was tough on Bokuto.

The practices began early morning and ended late at night during off days. And he usually had to stay behind after practice to get his serves and receives better polished. On game days, the routine became even more dizzying, with pre-game practice and warms ups, the game itself, after-game conferences and sometimes going out for drinks with his boys later. Bokuto loved the hustle and bustle, of course. He thrived in it. But it left almost no time for you, his beautiful fiancee.

He would get up at the ass crack of dawn to leave for a run and make it to practice on time, leaving your warm, sleeping figure under the covers, and he usually returned so late that you were already in bed, breathing quietly and curled into a cute little ball that Bokuto loved wrapping himself around. Sure, he texted you constantly during the day, and called you whenever he could, but it wasn’t the same as being in your presence.

And he was really starting to miss you. Emotionally and physically. Afterall, Bokuto was still a man. A healthy, young man. And he had needs.

Today found Bokuto in a predicament he was often met with these days. He woke up not to the sound of his alarm, but to the hypersensitive feeling of his raging boner. He blinked a couple of times, groaning softly when he realized what exactly the problem was and what woke him up.

That’s another thing he was struggling with. Bokuto had a high sex drive. Like, really high. Much higher than his peers. He knew it had to do with his unending stamina. But he had never had a problem with it before. And when he woke up like this, the small vestiges of his wet dream still clinging to his mind, with your warm, pliant body right next to him, it was really hard to control himself, no pun intended.

Bokuto pouted and grumbled, turning his back to you and closing his eyes again. He blearily stared up at the clock hanging off the wall, nearly groaning when he realized his alarm was about to ring in ten minutes.

He could probably cum in ten minutes…

Bokuto bit his lip in contemplation, turning to look at your sleeping figure again. Should he do it? You had given your permission to wake you for sex one time weeks ago. He had never done it, but maybe now…?

You sighed in your sleep and shifted, and Bokuto’s eyes shot down to your ass. God, he hadn’t felt you up in so long. You wouldn’t mind, right? You had said you wouldn’t. So what was stopping him?

His erection gave another painful throb, and Bokuto threw caution to the wind, he pressed his front into your back, sighing in relief when his crotch made contact with your ass, easing the pressure a bit. You were sleeping in his old jersey, as you usually did, and tiny sleep shorts. Bokuto made quick work of them until your lower half was bare, shirt pushed up to your waist. He pushed his shorts down just enough to free his dick and gave it a few pumps, mouth dropping open at the sensation. It felt good. But he knew what would feel even better.

He couldn’t hold back his groan when he finally slid home, your pussy tight as anything, sucking him in even in your sleep. Bokuto shifted down a little, trying to hit deeper in the position he was in, jaw going slack when you unconsciously clenched around him. For a split second, he wondered how he had gone this long without feeling you wrapped around his cock like this. He also knew that now that he had done this once, there’s no way he was not doing this every single day going forward.

You shifted and moaned, and your sharp intake of breath told Bokuto that you were awake. Fuck, thank god.

“Kou?” Your voice was husky with sleep. Bokuto nearly came.

He wasted no time in hooking his hand under your knee, pulling your leg up and spreading you out enough for him to start pumping into you faster.

You gasped and arched back into him, presenting your bare neck to him. Bokuto licked a stripe up the skin, tasting salt on his tongue. He slid his other hand under you, wrapping around you so he could grope at your clothed breast, soft as ever and fitting in his hand perfectly. God, he had missed your body. He bit gently into your neck, reveling in the little sounds escaping your throat. The thought that he was making you feel good was intoxicating. It had always been a huge turn on of his. He didn’t need praise, just hearing you moan as his cock drove into your cunt over and over was validation enough for him.

Your walls were fluttering around him like mad, and Bokuto was so sure he would bust any moment. He picked up the pace and angled his hips just right, trying to chase that one spot in your pussy that he knew made you see stars. He felt himself grin a bit when you cried out and clenched hard around him, indicating he found it.

“Kou, ‘m gonna cum.” You slurred out, and Bokuto pounded into you faster. He wanted- no needed- for you to cum together. He’d missed you so goddamn much. He needed this. As much as he needed to win his next match.

The sound of both your moans as you finished drowned out Bokuto’s phone, which started chiming his usual wake up tune. Bokuto could give less of a shit though, his thighs shaking as he emptied his load into your hot opening, reveling in the way you pushed your ass eagerly back on him, whimpering and whining through your own orgasm. As he came down his high. Bokuto wrapped his arms tight around you, not bothering to pull out, wanting nothing more than to feel every inch of your body against his.

“Kotarou,” you whispered affectionately, and Bokuto’s heart skipped. “Your alarm is still going off, babe.”

Bokuto hummed into the back of your neck. “Let it.”

You giggled and sighed, finally slumping against him. Bokuto thought his chest might burst from how content he felt.

“Good morning, by the way.”

Taglist:

@bxbyyyjocelyn @thisbicc @lazuliquartz @dreamayy @kuroosluthoe @true-form-hoe @akumakitsune21 @cham0mil3-and-h0n3y @samisfunky @universal-s1ut @msbyomimi @dohwaesu @leothesquishy @n0tmykays @tsukiran @reyofsunshinelol @bleach-your-panties @galaneiaeris @leyra-giovanni @erenspersonalwh0re @peachesncats @soapsoftheworld @iwannabecamiloshovel @vintagevict0ria @smithieandy @moonlit-mizukage @snazzyturtles @argwein

A/N: For those whose tags arent working, im sorry! I tried and for some reason, your names wont show up in the mentions :( another way of being notified is to turn on my blog notifs for @teamatsumufics . I only reblog my fics there so it serves almost like being in a taglist!

#bokuto koutaro x reader #bokuto kotaro smut #bokuto koutaro smut #bokuto koutaro x you #bokuto koutaro x y/n #bokuto koutarou #bokuto fanfiction #bokuto imagines #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu imagines #kinktober #bokuto x reader

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deunmiu-dessie · 2 months

Text

ⅲ▬ ⁽ 𝒹𝑒𝓂𝑜𝓃 ⁾ ¹

part two

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ♡︎ : ₈˖₁ₖ ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ♡︎ : mdni----- unedited, NSFW, death, gore (??) demon/human, fluff (??) ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎

૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა ʳᵃʷʳ ⁿᵒᵗᵉˢ : i had to split this into two parts since the entire one-shot was 15.8k words long--- literally crying rn. ˙◠˙

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ♡︎ : you wake with no idea where you are, trapped in a room by yourself, the only form of escape is a rusty metal door, though, who's knocking on it?

꒰m!demon ₊⊹ afab!reader꒱

𝒴 ou softly groan while cradling your forehead in your palms, eyes quivering open. The space you find yourself in is dimly lit, save for a faint glow in the corner. Sitting up is difficult and you release a small wheeze of pain, noticing the faint bruises of different hues covering your thighs. Your eyebrows twitch as the gravel beneath you digs into your palm, marking your skin with painful indentations. Groaning, you struggle to find your footing, the world around you spinning and bouncing within your disoriented vision. When you find balance, you take notice that the air carries a slight chill, and it brushes against your skin, causing goosebumps to rise in welcoming. It causes a tremor to course through your body, and you can almost swear that you feel your bones rattling beneath your flesh. Seeking comfort, you wrap your arms around your abdomen in a hug and pivot to examine the enclosure. It suddenly dawns on you that there is an eerie silence, with only the sound of your labored breaths and the gentle trickle of water from the pipes on the wall, echoing softly in your ears.

Your eyes finally find an exit and with a deep breath, you move towards the thick, rusty, metal door; heart thundering in your ribcage. Unwinding your arm from your midsection, you form a fist and tap on the door, feeling a flutter of nerves in your stomach. The silence is deafening for a moment, only broken by the sound of dripping water growing louder and then a knock responds from the other side. Your body jerks back in surprise, a sharp gasp escaping your lips. Your heart races, thumping rapidly, as if it wants to burst out of your chest. Then, there's another knock, this time with a bit more force. The door's thickness muffles the sound, but a faint 'hello' manages to catch your attention. Cautiously, you move forward, your knuckles gently tapping on the door once more. In reply, a quick knock reverberates through the air. "Hello? Can you hear me?" A barely audible 'yes' reaches your ears, prompting a sigh of relief to escape your lips. Collapsing to your knees, you lean against the door, the jagged rocks cutting into your flesh. You gnaw gently at your bottom lip, bones aching and protesting. "Do you know where we are?" "No." Disappointment surges through your like a tsunami and you inhale deeply, taking in the smell of mold and damp concrete; it makes your stomach churn and you once again wrap your arms around your midsection. You wait in silence until the voice speaks once more. "Who are you?" Instantly, you blurt out your name, your lips cracked and dry. "What about you?" The room falls silent, only the sound of water droplets can be heard. Doubt creeps in and you worry if they are somehow involved in your predicament. Suddenly, a calm, reassuring voice responds, releasing the tension from your body, the cold racking a shudder through your spine. “Ulysses” The lack of a last name doesn't bother you. The room's silence seeps into your thoughts, leaving you restless, and anxious. The chilling grip of fear tightens around your heart, making you wonder if your family is searching for you. Have they reported you missing? Were you going to die? The thought of death at such a young age, having recently turned twenty-four, is unbearable. Just as despair takes hold, a deep and comforting voice breaks through, providing a much-needed sense of relief. “You're thinking too much, calm down.” Your breath escapes in a deep shudder as you lean against the door, the sharp metal flakes digging into your skin. You wanted to― needed to feel some sense of connection, of not being alone in this moment of panic. How did he sense your impending breakdown? The question lingers, but you push it aside. His voice is a balm, offering both comfort and an unfamiliar sense of security. The flickering light on your left momentarily distracts you, as a shadow flits by and disappears. Intrigue fills your mind, prompting you to rise slowly, your legs trembling beneath you. As you approach the narrow opening, barely taller than yourself, you tiptoe on the edge of your shoe. A surge of anticipation rushes through you as you realize there are people nearby! Students bustle through the corridor, disappearing into what you presume to be classrooms. The sound of footsteps grabs your attention, prompting you to extend your hand through the gap, only to be met by a pale wall. The wall possesses a captivating iridescent hue, a blend of gold and orange, shimmering under your touch. The longer your palm rests on its surface, the more intense the heat becomes. Startled, you swiftly retract your hand, cradling it against your chest, and observe with fascination as the wall gradually fades away, dissolving from your view.

"What the hell?" Your mind is a whirlwind of confusion, unable to process the events that just unfolded. In the midst of your mental fog, a piercing creaking noise assaults your ears, reminiscent of nails scraping against a chalkboard. To your surprise, the small gap you were standing in front of seemed to be moving farther away. Panic sets in as you realize that you are being transported somewhere. Suddenly, a thunderous pounding on the door shatters the air, accompanied by blood-curdling screams that bear no resemblance to the person who was just speaking to you. Determined, you limp towards the door, dropping to your knees in haste. "Ulysses? Ulysses!" you call out desperately, but there is only silence in response. The once familiar sounds of dripping water and the cool breeze from the draft have vanished, replaced by the antiseptic scent of bleach. As you take in your surroundings, you realize that you have been transported to an entirely different room. As you glance around, your eyes swiftly capture the sight of crimson splatters on the wall and the disarrayed gravel just a few steps from where you stand. The question lingers in your mind: had, Ulysees been in this room? You didn't want to think about it any longer. The thought becomes unbearable, prompting you to shut your eyes tightly and shield your ears with your hands, trembling against the icy touch of the door's rust.

Knock As your eyes slowly open, you find yourself reluctantly lowering your hands onto your lap. Startled by another knock, a soft stuttering hiccup escapes your body. Filled with apprehension, you clench your fist and knock back, unsure and frightened. "Hello? Hello!" The voice that responds is higher pitched, a stark contrast to Ulysses' deep voice just minutes ago. You casually wipe your nose on your sleeve before pressing your palm against the door. "Who's there?" The only reply is a prolonged silence, then a soft shushing noise from beyond the door.

"They'll hear you if you're too loud." The room falls silent once more before a man finally speaks up. "My name is Charles Langston."

A storm of questions rages through your mind, desperately seeking answers. Who will hear them? What in the name of all that is holy just happened? Were you ever gonna get out of here? Nevertheless, you gather your resolve and take a deep, shuddering breath. "How long have you been here?" Your voice is barely audible as you question him from behind the heavy door.

With a soft sigh, Charles rests his head against the rusty door. He couldn't stand being asked that question because he had lost track of time; it could have been days, weeks, or even months since he arrived. The only certainty he had was that they were under constant surveillance. (Not to mention he had been stuck here for more than 13 cycles.) Charles wasn't always alone in this room; there were two others, twins named Riley and Nick. They had stumbled upon a small hatch on the ceiling, and Riley, the brunette had successfully navigated through it. The boys were optimistic that she might uncover an escape route. They could go home! They couldn't have been more mistaken. It had been mere minutes since she entered, and now they found themselves sitting on the rough gravel floor, their hearts pounding in a frenzy. Thump, Thump, Thump, Thud. A warm and moist substance splattered against Charles's cheek, prompting him to instinctively reach up and feel the liquid. As he pulled his hand away, his wide, terror-filled eyes beheld the scarlet blood staining his fingertips, slowly dripping down to collect in his palm. Casting his silver gaze toward the ground, he found the expression of terror and horror on Riley's head― now detached from her body― waiting for him and it filled him with revulsion.

Her head had been severed, her body was probably still lodged in the hatch, stuck. Nick's screams reverberated in the room as he clutched the head, eyes wide in horror. "No, Riley, please! Riley!" The room fell into silence as a gentle warmth enveloped his face, seeping down to his neck and chest. Nick's body slumps to the side, his head coming to a rest near Charles's feet. With a swift motion, the boy muffles his mouth with his hand, smearing the blood across his lips. He stayed quiet, retreating to the corner of the room. They were dead. “Charles? Are you still here?” The boy's eyes blinked rapidly, a clear sign of his inner turmoil as he vigorously shook his head, desperately trying to shake off the haunting thoughts. "Oh, sorry. I was just lost in my thoughts for a moment. A couple of days at least." He lied, concealing the gruesome truth that the bodies had already begun to decay while he was still trapped in that room. The putrid stench of death lingered in the air, making it difficult for him to suppress the rising bile in his throat. He knew all too well that it took around 3-5 days for bodies to enter the decomposition stage. And when he closed his eyes to sleep, they had vanished without a trace. Waking up to their absence brought a bittersweet mix of relief and sadness. Now, he found himself completely alone in an unfamiliar place. “I don't know how long I've been unconscious, I woke up 30 minutes ago- I'm guessing anyways.” Charles despises the silence that envelopes the room as you fall into a momentary recluse. He can’t help but scoff under his breath, reminiscing about the times he used to tell his mom how much he enjoyed the tranquility when his siblings were away. The stillness of the house provided him with the perfect environment to think and focus on his training. However, after being confined here for days on end, with only silence as his constant companion, he has grown to despise it. The quietness that once welcomed his thoughts now feels unwelcoming and suffocating. “I met someone. . .” Beyond the thick door, the person resting acted as a much-needed distraction. Your soothing voice is akin to a slow, calming stream, instilling a feeling of safety and reassurance in him. A soft hum escaped his lips, his tired eyes fluttering with fatigue. After the twins vanished from the room, it was difficult for him to sleep. "His name was Ulysses, after the room switched, I couldn't hear him anymore." Charles let the name ferment in his mind. Memories of the countless people he had encountered flooded his mind, triggering an excruciating headache that made his eyes involuntarily roll upwards. Gripping his head tightly, his body convulsed on the rough gravel, as if trying to shake off the torment. A sudden wail breaks free from his mouth, catching your attention from the opposite end of the door. Charles can make out the muted pounding of your knuckles—yet it's as if his mind is submerged in water, the sound is distant and blurred. The images in his head are murky and jumbled, like scattered pieces trying to piece together the memory unfolding in front of him.

In the dimly lit room, Charles lay bound to a table, his eyes fixated on the mesmerizing figure that stands imposingly before him. With an otherworldly, purplish grey skin and stormy red eyes. His physique and face were nothing short of extraordinary, resembling that of the mighty Greek gods. Charles tried to listen to the man's words, but no sound seemed escaped his lips. Bound to a table, he found himself surrounded by bottles of liquid gold and burgundy red. Charles couldn't budge an inch; his limbs felt as heavy as lead. It was only upon closer inspection that he noticed the astonishing four additional arms sprouting from the man's back, a detail he had failed to mention earlier. As the man inches closer, his eyes are like a bottomless pit; devoid of any emotion, and the sight sends shivers down Charles' spine. At last, the boy begins to comprehend his words. "Check the surrounding area. Remember these five names. Velteox, Dowlat, DragonsBane, Helka, FalconsBreath. If you help my mate escape safely, I'll contemplate whether or not to kill you." The words he spoke were laced with deceit, indicating he had no qualms about the boy's fate, but Charles remained unfazed. Without warning, darkness envelops him, as the names of people he knew or had heard of flicker before his eyes, each one appearing and disappearing in rapid succession. Yet, amidst this whirlwind of names, his own is noticeably absent, like a missing puzzle piece. Riley, Ulysses, Nick, Elijah, Sophie. Charles pondered over the sequence of names, perplexed by their significance as he desperately tried to make sense of the events that had unfolded in just a matter of minutes. To his surprise, the letters composing the words started to fade away, leaving behind only the first letter of each person's name. Charles furrowed his brow, his eyes tracing the delicate, wispy blue letters that floated in front of him. However, amidst the disappearing names, a sense of unease washed over him as he noticed the absence of your name. R U N E S Recalling the man's instructions, he grimaced at the memory of the unsettling encounter. 'Scan the area. Memorize these five names: Velteox, Dowlat, DragonsBane, Helka, FalconsBreath.' But who was this 'mate' he was referring to? Charles dismissed the thought, focusing on the task at hand.

Was it possible that the man was hinting at looking for the ancient runes in the room? Could that be the key to escaping this place? As he struggled to catch his breath, the only sound that echoed in his ears was the sound of your voice.

“Charles?! Are you alright?” With a trembling hand, the boy reached out to tap on the door, offering you a moment of calm. Charles lay motionless, struggling to breathe, his chest heaving with each gasp. His eyes darted to the wall, scanning the monotonous grey surface. Suddenly, a flash of iridescent colors drew his gaze, a blend of teal and fuchsia dancing before him. As he concentrated, the colors began to take shape. Charles was spellbound as a falcon materialized before him, wings spread wide as if soaring through the air, its beak slightly agape, and wisps of air seemingly escaping. That was it, that was the RUNE: FalconsBreath. Quickly, he scanned the wall once more, and there it was - a striking mix of green and pink hues that drew his attention. The shape extended upwards, tapering off into pointed ends. Antlers! His gaze traveled downward until it landed on the source of the movement, an elk— his eyes widened as he fought to rise to a sitting position. That was the RUNE: Helka Charles once more cast his gaze in every direction, desperately seeking any alternative emblem. His eyes moved swiftly, like a hummingbird in flight. Yet, to his dismay, there was no other iridescent color that shimmered and rippled.

He stumbled over your name slightly as he talked. Moving towards the door, he held onto the hope that his assumption was accurate. “Charles? Are you alright? What happe–”

"Sh, I'll fill you in later, but right now– do something for me. Okay?" You fell silent for a moment, and he could almost hear the cogs whirring and grinding inside your mind.

“What is it?”

With a shuddering breath, the man nervously tapped his foot, his eyes fixed on the wall behind them. "Take a glance at the wall behind you, do you notice anything shimmering?" Despite feeling somewhat ridiculous uttering those words, it was their sole hope for progress. "Charles, what's going on? Are you sure you're okay?" "Just do it! Please." After a brief pause, he picked up on the sound of your movements and then a sharp gasp. "What's happening? Did you find something?" His voice carried a sense of desperation, tinged with just a bit of hope. “It's a yellow and silver color, it's shaped oddly like an Ox?” That was it! It was the very first rune uttered by the man: Velteox. His heart leaped into action, pounding vigorously within his chest. He wracked his brain to remember the last rune shared by the man, edging closer to the door, his body tightly pressed against the peeling rust and metal. "Good, good-" he muttered, his voice stuttering slightly as he regulated his breathing and took a long, replenishing breath. " Look around again, do you see an owl anywhere?" He could hear your muttered frustrations, but he didn't let them get to him.

“No? I don't think so- wait- it's on the floor. It's massive. It's pink.” " You might think I've lost my mind. But trust me, I need you to press those runes, even if it seems pointless. Okay?" He sensed your skepticism, but this was the only chance they had to get out of here. After a moment of silence, you finally gave in and agreed. Charles came to a sudden halt, his eyes scanning the surroundings anxiously. Where on earth was the Dragon? Both he and you had managed to discover two of the mystical animal runes, but one remained elusive. Frustration gnawed at him as he absentmindedly chewed on his thumb, his teeth tugging at the skin. Suddenly, your voice jolted him out of his reverie, bringing him back to the present moment. “The door, the door is a dragon.” Charles moved closer to the door, a puzzled expression on his face. "What do you mean?" Silence. He reached out and touched the door, observing as small metal fragments disintegrated and fell to the ground. Brushing his hand over the pieces, he finally understood your message. The more fragments fell, the clearer the image of the Dragon became. "Good, good, listen and follow carefully. Hold your palm on whatever animal I tell you, alright?" He could hear your voice clearer now that he was standing closer to the door. Your agreement makes his body relax and he prays that whatever he planned on doing would work. "The Ox, place your palm against it." Scrambling away from the door, you discovered the shimmering Ox rune. Upon touching it, a strange yet comforting warmth enveloped you in a welcoming embrace, unfamiliar yet reassuring. Charles called out to you, his voice resonating in the chamber. "Now, the Owl." You reluctantly pulled your hand away from the Ox and strode to the middle of the chamber. Kneeling, you pressed your hand against the Rune, feeling its intense heat. The sensation is almost unbearable, yet strangely comforting, much like the Ox. With a resolute tone, Charles uttered, "Leave the rest to me." With a heavy sigh, the boy released a deep breath and pressed his hand against the Dragon, only to feel a searing pain as it turned a deep shade of red. Reacting swiftly, he pulled his hand away and clutched it to his chest, his eyebrows furrowing and a groan escaping his lips. Taking cautious steps backward, he pivoted on the balls of his feet until he spotted the Elk. Still wary of the previous encounter, he extended his other hand with trepidation, relieved when it didn't burn. Charles's lips thinned as he closed his eyes, silently uttering a prayer. He desperately hoped that he hadn't given you false hope about their chances of escaping this place. Gathering his resolve, he approached the Falcon and hesitantly laid his hand upon it.

Nothing. With a deep frown, the boy dropped to his knees, realizing that escape was impossible. He had deceived you, leading you to believe that the RUNES held the key to their escape. Lost in self-blame, Charles remained oblivious to the door opening noiselessly, despite its rusty state. As you stood up from the floor, tears welled up in your eyes, causing your vision to blur. "Charles?" His appearance matched the vulnerability in his voice- a bit scrawny with untidy brown hair and clothing. Startled, he tensed and turned his head, his eyes widening as tears also clouded his sight. From a simple walk, it swiftly evolved into a brisk jog and then escalated into an exhilarating sprint as you tackled him into a warm embrace. With a soft thud, he collided against the wall, but he didn't let go, instead, he tightly wrapped his arms around you. He whispered your name softly, his voice tinged with disbelief as if he couldn't fathom the reality of you being there beside him.

With a nod, you stepped back. Meeting him in person was an exhilarating experience, as he was the first person you had encountered face to face. "I can't believe it, I'm here," you exclaimed. Before he could utter a word, a piercing, high-pitched creak echoed through the room, resembling the grating sound of nails on a chalkboard. Once again, you found yourselves rotating. In response, both of you huddled closer together, holding your breaths in anticipation. It seemed like an eternity before the rotation finally halted. You found yourselves in a fresh room, facing a new door that was starkly different from the old rusty metal one. This door was a deep black, standing out against the now-white walls. Charles confidently got up, leaving you behind as he made his way to the door. You shook your head, inching away. There was something about that door that felt familiar. The sensation it evoked was akin to the Runes you had handled earlier – a mixture of warmth and safety, but with a subtle tinge of danger. Your mind was flooded with warning signals, urging you to proceed with caution. "Wait, Charles!" The door felt familiar to Charles. It was reminiscent of the Dragon Rune he had encountered. Aware of its perilous nature, he still yearned to be back with his loved ones. With determination, he twisted the doorknob, causing the lock to click open, revealing a dark corridor. Charles huffed out and smiled, casting a glance in your direction. "See? It's fine, let's g-." Warmth splattered across your face, sullied your hair, drenched your clothes, and colored your left eye. Charles collapsed to the ground, his knees hitting the gravel loudly and his body lurching forward. His head rolled towards you, still spurting out blood. Your eyes widened, mouth agape as you locked eyes with Charles' head. You could do nothing but sit there, heart pumping a mile a second and breath faltering. There was a scream lodged in your throat, wanting to escape but too scared to even attempt. "Charles?" The enclosure trembled under the weight of heavy footsteps, but you were too terrified to even move, horrified at the death of Charles. Something monstrous crouched to enter the doorway, large and muscled, with grey-tinged skin and husks protruding from its mouth. "I apologize deeply for the delay My Lady, I pray to the Demon Lord for your forgiveness." it rumbled, dropping to its knees and inadvertently crushing what was left of Charles. Blood splattered the walls as you lost consciousness, your eyes fluttered and then rolled to the back of your head. The Beast's eyes widened and he rose from his position, and with two large steps, he was able to pick you up, nestling you within his arms. He looked down at the head that rested just a few feet away from you and sneered. "Farlila filth." With your well-being as his top priority, he swiftly exited the room and embarked on a journey down the seemingly endless hallway. "Letter Master Ulysses, we have the Queen."

Watching your lashes quiver and your nose twitch, the woman sees your eyes open, squint, and then close once more. With a gentle smile, she approaches you. "Good Evening, My Lady, my name is Elmira De Brawnheller, it is an honor to serve as your personal maid." In an instant, your eyes spring open, and you hastily retreat to the far end of the bed, putting some distance between you and the mysterious woman. "Who are you? Where am I?" you blurt out, your voice filled with a mix of confusion and alarm. The woman's smile widens as she gracefully takes a step back, revealing her identity. "Allow me to introduce myself, I am Elmira De Brawnheller, the esteemed head maid and your personal servant. As for your current whereabouts, you are in the second bedroom of the illustrious Vempes Palace, under the watchful eye of the Master." Vempes Palace, what the hell was that? Where the hell was that? And could you get home from there? You rise from the bed with a puzzled expression, "Where exactly is Vempes Palace? I just want to go home." Elmira's mouth contorts into a frown. "Vempes Palace is situated in the Lomaliue Region, under the dominion of the Master." As she explained, you seized the opportunity to dash towards the door, escaping while Elmira observed you with concern in her eyes. "Madam! Please don't sprint in the corridors! You might harm yourself!" Paying no heed to her caution, you yanked the door open and veered right, your feet moving silently on the luxurious velvet floor. Your head swiveled back and forth, searching for an alternate corridor to explore, gliding past other women dressed as maids. Elmira, who follows behind you, casually waves the women away, silently telling them to leave you be, before continuing her trek. She gasps softly when you crash roughly into Ghallahan, hitting the floor with a thump. The knight immediately drops to his knees, hands hovering over your body. "M-my Lady, I didn't see you, I apologize for my lack of attention, please, punish me." You shuffle back from him quickly, bumping into Elmira behind you. The woman grabs your hand and pulls you up. "My Lady, I understand that you're confused, I know that you would like to go home, but this isn't a discussion you should be having with us– rather the Lord of this palace." You pull away from her, standing sandwiched between the two of them. "Where is he? The one who kidnapped me–." You whirl around to face Ghallahan, the pieces of your memory falling into place, "You murdered Charles." Elmira furrows her brow. "My Lady, Master is the one who rescued you, once someone enters The Rotation Chamber, it's nearly impossible to escape." Your face twists into one of confusion, your little human heart pumping a mile a minute. Elmira, sensing your turmoil, wraps an arm around you and steers you back in the direction of your room. "Let's wait for Master to get back, I'm sure he'll explain everything." Elmira doesn't mind your lack of answer, just smiles at Knight Ghallahan and leads you inside the room.

As Elmira skillfully weaves your hair into intricate plaits, you find yourself lost in a trance while gazing into the mirror. The elegant dress drapes your figure in a long, pristine white, gently cascading down but still clinging gracefully to your curves. Its fabric is almost translucent, yet you observe how it magically transforms into a denser material, cleverly concealing your bosom and lower body. "Elmira, when will he get here?" The lady softly hums as she delicately places a diamond-encrusted pin in your hair. "Master will be back later today following the triumphant plunder of the Esdeath Organization and Rotation Chamber. You are requested to join him for dinner." Your time at Vempes Palace has been just shy of two weeks, with Elmira and the perpetually flustered Ghallahan being your main companions. The luxurious lifestyle, the constant pampering, and the extravagant meals are things you have yet to embrace. In truth, you find it all quite distasteful.

"What is he like?" Elmira, surprised at your question, sucks her teeth softly and stops her movements, a small smile gracing her lips. "Master is warm, reliable, fair, understanding, and above all else, honorable." Your eyes find her face from the mirror and you notice the wispy look of recalling on her face. However, her sudden change in demeanor leaves you puzzled as she mentions, "Nonetheless, Master is not very communicative, and tends to take a lot upon himself." You grunt softly in acknowledgment and drop your eyes down to your lap, your hands laying bunched together, wrist adorned with pearls and other small dainty jewelry. Elmira's voice startles you as she speaks again and you look up. "While Master may appear distant and aloof, My Lady, please know that he would never do anything to hurt you. He values your happiness above all else and would never do anything that goes against your desires. " A scoff escapes you involuntarily. "But here I am, trapped against my will, and utterly bored." The sentence is muttered under your breath, but Elmira, a feline demon, catches every word and her lips tug into a gentle frown. Without fail, you begrudgingly adhere to the same monotonous routine every day at Vempes Castle. Get up. Have breakfast. Bathe. Explore the greenhouse. Listen (albeit unwillingly) to Ghallahan's war stories. Enjoy some tea. Dinner. Sleep. "Is there a library?" A spark of enthusiasm ignites in Elmira's eyes as your question reaches her ears. It's not often that you seek anything while under her watchful care, and so her surprise quickly transforms into pure elation. "Of course My Lady, Shall I be your escort?" She does her best to conceal her immense happiness, relieved that you're slowly but surely finding comfort within the grandeur of the palace.

You can't help the delicate smile that touches your lips at her enthusiasm. "Yes, please Elmira." If you were going to be here for a little bit, you might as well enjoy the small things you loved while being in your world— or were you still in your world? It didn't matter, you enjoyed reading books and would do so now. Elmira steps away from your seated position and you rise from the white chair, glad that she had put you in flats rather than heels. Despite your involuntary confinement, you find yourself growing closer to Elmira as you intertwine your arm with hers. Elmira, the head maid, has a unique way of guiding you through the castle. Instead of leading from the front, she walks beside you, subtly influencing your path while respecting the hierarchy. (Though seeing as Elmira was the head maid, she had a bit of leeway. ) Despite your protests about the rigid rules and your lack of royal status, Elmira remains firm. The walk isn't too long, it passes by as you take in the castle decor while stopping to politely greet the servants and knights ( who always take their job a bit too seriously by dropping to their knees, leaving you to fuss to Elmira all the while helping them up from the floor).

The two of you stop in front of a large pitch-black door that stretches high to the ceiling. The doorknob, on the other hand, gleams with a pristine silver hue. Elmira notices the awe in your eyes and takes a step back, releasing her hold on your arms. "This is as far as I go, My Lady. Servants are not allowed inside of the Library." Your eyebrows knit together and your lips form a cute pout, reflecting your disappointment. "Well then, let's find something else to do," you suggest. The feline demon shakes her head and gracefully bows to you, a knowing smile gracing her features. "I'll be waiting just outside if you require my assistance," she assures you. Her voice urges you to enter, and with a hint of reluctance, you grasp the handle and gently push open the surprisingly light door.

The moment you step into the room, the cozy atmosphere embraces you. The library is like a sanctuary of knowledge, adorned with an assortment of books, maps, globes, and charming trinkets. With a soft thud, the door closes behind you, undeterred, you venture deeper into the library, twirling in awe. "Oh my goodness, this is incredible!" you whisper in disbelief. Your fingertips glide along the dusty railing, leaving a trail in the layers of cobwebs. Your immediate thought is to find a book about the language spoken here. While Elmira and Ghallahan are fluent in your language, the majority of the staff communicate in a foreign tongue, unfamiliar to your world.

With narrowed eyes, you scan the area for the elusive letter 'L', carefully descending the stairs to expand your field of vision. A spark of excitement ignites within you as the golden letter finally comes into sight. However, instead of rushing towards it, you take a leisurely approach, exploring the room and daring to touch forbidden objects along the way. Eventually, you arrive at the bookshelf, and your quest is met with instantaneous success. Lomaliue, the name Elmira had mentioned, is the place where you were held captive. Lomaliue Region. Your fingers glide gently over the book spines, but alas, your efforts prove fruitless. A frown creases your brow as you raise your gaze, your eyes eagerly scanning the shelves until they alight upon it—just beyond your reach. You spot a ladder nearby and with a determined grip, you tug it towards you, grappling with its weight. After positioning it perfectly, you embark on the climb, your legs trembling and your annoyance growing at the impractical length of your dress. Finally, you come to a halt at the 7th shelf, clutching the ladder with unwavering strength, leaning in to retrieve the book that had ensnared your attention.

"Aha! Lomaliue Language and History."

At the sound of your sudden exclamation and excitement, your grip on the ladder momentarily slackens, causing you to sway backward. Your eyes widen in alarm as you frantically wave your arms in an attempt to regain your balance. "Whoa, whoa, oh shit." The ladder starts to tip backward, now standing upright away from the shelf, leaving you flailing in mid-air as you struggle to lean it back against the shelf. "E-Elmira!" Your heart pounds in your chest as you finally steady yourself against the bookshelf. However, the impact of your landing causes the bookshelf to come crashing down, taking you along for the ride.

You squeeze your eyes tightly shut, preparing for a jarring collision, but it never happens. Instead, you experience a sensation of weightlessness, as if gliding through the air. You cautiously open one eye, then the other, feeling a surge of tension as you realize you are indeed floating. Before you know it, you and the bookshelf both touch down on the ground.

"You're quite the clumsy one." A shudder travels down your spine and to the tips of your toes, sending goosebumps to trail up your arms. The voice, deep and velvety, lacks any emotion yet feels strangely familiar. There's an elusive quality to it, hinting at hidden secrets just beneath the surface. Inside the dimly lit library, your eyes dart nervously from shelf to shelf, desperately trying to locate the source. You take a step back, your heart pounding in your chest, only to collide with an unseen obstacle behind you. Your panic-stricken eyes find nothing, and as your breath catches, you reluctantly close your eyes. With trembling legs and an urgent need to relieve your bladder (because, let's be honest, you were on the verge of peeing yourself), you turn around and come face to face with... another bookshelf. Placing your hand on your chest, you let out a sigh of relief, even though the danger wasn't completely gone - the person was still lurking in the library. Gritting your teeth, you gather your dress and take a deep breath, determined to make a break for it. Grateful for your choice of flats, you sprint off, book clutched tightly in your hand. You swear you hear a chuckle of amusement behind you, but frankly? You did not give a flying fuck. Reaching the entrance in record time, you push open the door and collide with a surprised Elmira, who embraces you. Finally feeling safe, you relax in her arms and exhale deeply.

Just for a moment, she looks surprised before breaking into a smile. But that smile doesn't last long once she catches sight of the book you're holding. She's quite the expert at changing moods, isn't she? "Ah, My Lady, books within the Library must st-." She pauses abruptly, her gaze shifting to the Library doors closing behind you. Her demeanor changes once more, a grin returning to her face. "Forget about that, let's head to the greenhouse instead." You put on a smile and nod, following her lead, but you steal a glance over your shoulder and catch sight of a pair of warm, glowing eyes right before the door closes. Is it possible? You shake your head in disbelief and continue walking with Elmira.

As you step into the Greenhouse, a wave of familiar scents engulfs you - the sweet fragrance of honeysuckle and lilacs. It's as if the air itself is whispering tales of home, tugging at your heartstrings. You can't help but feel a pang of longing for the place that seems to be slipping further away with each passing day. Deep down, you sense that this sanctuary might become your new haven. Elmira, the ever-silent companion, offers no false promises or illusions of this castle "Master" taking you home, she didn't delude you with hope. Outside, darkness encroaches, but within the Greenhouse, an eternal sunshine prevails. The birds, their cheerful chirping filling the air, find solace in the majestic tree that stands tall at the center. Butterflies gracefully flutter about, their delicate wings brushing against the vibrant flowers that adorn the winding paths. Here, all sounds are hushed, as if the world itself has taken a pause. This sanctuary, your sanctuary, offers respite from the monotony of the castle. And Elmira, as always, stands ready to lend her silent support, should you choose to accept it.

As you make your way towards the cozy seating area (thoughtfully installed after your request to have a spot to sit outside.) you sink into the cushions and lean back, pulling the book out from under your arm. With a gentle tilt, you position it to bask in the shade provided by the branches and leaves above. Here you are, sitting beneath the trees, engrossed in the stolen treasure from the Library. Yet, in reality, you are captivated by the soothing melody of the babbling brook flowing behind the Greenhouse. This enchanting spot has become your refuge within the castle, and with each passing day, you find yourself drawn to it even more. What a truly magnificent place it is. In all honesty, there's no need to be scared of this place. They weren't doing anything to harm you. You were fed when you were hungry, given a hot bath (though it would be better if you could clean yourself) this beautiful Greenhouse— you wouldn't count the haunted Library, that place was out of the picture and Elmira— yeah you'd count her. But aside from the bathing situation, it wasn't all that terrible. You weren't naive (maybe a few missing brain cells, but...), you knew there was no way out even if you wanted to leave. Where would you even go? You had no idea of your location or what lay beyond, but for now, you were safe. Still, you couldn't help but miss your phone and movies.

"Why are you so scared?" You halt what you're doing and lift your gaze, seeing as you had said the question out loud. The inquiry hits you like a punch to your chest, leaving you momentarily speechless. 'Maybe because I'm surrounded by monsters, have no way of getting home, and I'm trapped here.' However, what awaited you upon your return home? Was it a distant family? A physically demanding nursing job that left you exhausted, or the monotonous routine of eating ramen noodles and hot dogs for every meal? Maybe it was the solemn reminder of your dog's ashes. Your life may have been a complete mess, but it was undeniably yours. With the book placed delicately on your chest, its Lomaliue text unintelligible to you, you close your eyes and surrender to the soothing symphony of the Greenhouse. Its harmonious melodies embrace you, guiding you into a tranquil sleep.

"Cold."

When he arrives to fetch you, your voice is soft, sweet, and still heavy with sleep. Elmira, unable to bring herself to disturb your much-needed rest, alerts the Master of the castle instead. He pays no mind to the fact that you had essentially missed meeting him for the first time and had exited the Library to bring you back to your room. Elmira observes as he carefully removes the book from your chest, stooping down to admire your delicate features and the slight drool escaping your lips. His chuckle holds small traces of humor and is almost carried away by the wind. Retrieving the stolen book, he sets it aside and lifts you effortlessly into his arms, like you weighed nothing but a feather. Turning to Elmira, he nods, "You're dismissed for tonight, 'Mira. Thank you." With a bow of her head, the feline demon watches him depart, her hands tightly intertwined in worry. She knows all too well that Master would never bring harm to the Lady, but her concern for the poor girl lingers. As you gradually awaken, your eyes flutter open, clouded with sleep and fatigue. Your head and cheek find solace against a comforting warmth, while the hands that gently grasp your thighs and curl beneath your back make you feel as though you've awakened in the heavenly realm.

Their voice, with its deep resonance, melts you into a warm, sticky puddle. It's velvety and profound, similar to before but with an added allure. "Sleep, little human, I've forgotten just how weak your kind is." Despite the urge to take offense, there's no malice in his words, just a simple observation. But who is carrying you now? It's not Elmira or Ghallhan. Before you can even ponder further, his voice soothes you once more. "You're thinking too much, calm down." Oddly enough, his words bring a sense of comfort, even though they shouldn't. ( probably because you were half asleep. ) Your soft, drool-coated cheek rests back against his chest and your eyes flutter ( and scarily roll back ) shut. Back into sleep.

Waking up from your deep sleep, it feels like an eternity before you manage to crack your eyes open. Stretching your body like a lithe feline, you let out a small groan. The room is bathed in a soft moonlight glow, indicating that you haven’t been asleep for too long. Without much time to observe your surroundings, a deep, tranquil voice suddenly speaks.

"You're awake, good."

A tremble races down your body and you hop out of the bed, crumpling to the floor in a heap. You whine at the pain but you quickly refocus your attention, scanning the room with wide eyes before stopping, finding it- him? Sitting there. His skin is a deep purple-grey, his features sharp, eyes narrow, and gaze like an empty void, which contrasted with his dark red eyes that appeared almost bloody. His ears are pointed, and his muscular frame seems to take up the whole room. Wait, are those four additional arms?

"Who the hell are you?! Elmira!" With an exasperated sigh, the man's eyes rolled dismissively as he got up from his chair, casually tossing a bundle of documents onto the table. "Elmira won't be around tonight. You'll have to wait until morning to see her," he stated matter-of-factly. He watched as his firey little human mate stumbled backward, nearly tripping in her haste.

What a clumsy little thing she was.

"You didn't answer my question." You bite out. "Why should I?” He observes you intently as you struggle to respond, but his teasing expression softens as tears begin to form in your eyes. Stepping towards you, he tilts his head slightly as you take a step back, his flowing black hair framing his face."I am the sovereign of this realm, of this dreary fortress. You may call me Ulysses." Ulysses nearly breaks into a grin as your eyebrows knit together, a look of recognition washing over your eyes before being replaced by bewilderment. "N-no, that can't be right." The voice you recalled was gentle, and comforting. His, however, was anything but. .

“Who are you?” Instantly, you blurt out your name, your lips cracked and dry. “What about you?” The room falls silent, only the sound of water droplets can be heard. Doubt creeps in and you worry if they are somehow involved in your predicament. Suddenly, a calm, reassuring voice responds, releasing the tension from your body, the cold racking a shudder through your spine. “Ulysses”

. Despite his apparent indifference to whether you believed him or not, he takes a step closer, and this time, you stand your ground. Swallowing thickly you lift your chin in defiance and glare, you didn't care if he was The Pope, or hell Barack Obama. "Why am I here? I want to go home." Ulysses clasps his hands behind his back and lifts his gaze to your gown, noticing how the fabric that would usually hide your perky breast is bunched and amiss, from your bizarre sleeping patterns and abrupt fall from the bed. This reveals your enticing round areolas, a detail that might have gone unnoticed had he been a mere mortal. With a voice that exudes honesty and is devoid of deceit, he delivers a harsh reality that you struggle to accept. "Nothing is awaiting you there, no family who truly cares," he states matter-of-factly. The fact that your vanishing in the upper realm didn't even cause a ripple in their lives is unfathomable. Filled with disbelief and anger, you take a determined step forward, challenging his words. "You're lying!" He moves closer, his aura enveloping you, causing your skin to tingle like static electricity. "Why would I deceive you? Tell me, ao bewl ¹, if I were to send you back home, what would be your next move? Missing a month of work has made you lose your job." ( my love ) ¹ Ulysses observes the way your pretty eyes widen, mouth gapes open, eyebrows twitch, and doubt fills your gaze. "A month? I've only been here for two weeks." Is that why Elmira seemed to skip the conversation when you asked about how many days you had been here? ( Instead from then on, you started to just count the days when you woke up. ) "Time seems to slip away faster than you can fathom, little human." His eyes flicker down to his wrist, stealing a glance at his watch. Pivoting on the balls of his feet, he looks back at his petite "captive" and suggests, "When you feel ready, Elmira will guide you downstairs for breakfast. Take a little more time to rest." Even with the lack of response he takes his leave. Your trembling bottom lip and the pressure of your nails digging into your palms reveal your distress. Why is this misfortune befalling you? What have you done to deserve it? You have always been compassionate, kind, and patient. How could you have possibly erred in your short existence? Suddenly, the sound of raindrops dancing outside grabs your attention. The balcony doors grant you a front-row view of the natural world, and you yearn to immerse yourself in its wonders. With a heavy heart, you rise to your feet and reluctantly make your way towards the doors. As you forcefully pull them open, the cool air and gentle raindrops caress your face and skin. You find solace as you lower yourself onto the concrete, resting your head against your folded knees, and allowing your eyes to flutter shut.

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shapard · 2 months

Text

Albino Snake🐍

Lucifer x Human!fem!reader

Alastor kinda reminds me of Dr. Facilier

A/n: I want to cry. I accidentally posted this🥲

You found a cute little albino snake. You named him Apple.

Soft Lucifer

Part 1 > Part 2

You love your home New Orleans.

The streets are filled with jazz and Happy people dancing around. It brought a smile up of your face.

It’s been so long when the streets were this filled. A big number of murders started to rise in New Orleans. Everybody stayed at home, especially you.

News spread quickly that the Series Killer got killed by a hunter. The Hunter thought he was a deer and gave him a shot right in the middle of his skull.

The days that were cold and dull started to gain color again. And your live just became more stressful.

Back to two jobs and a small apartment.

You worked in two Restaurants only to fulfill your dream. You want to live that dream you and you father talked about from morning to dawn. Sadly, he’ll not be able to see you reach this dream.

You’re almost there, just a couple more shifts. Just a few weeks of hard work.

You groaned when your alarm clock started ringing in your ear. Exhausted you pressed your hand onto the alarm.

You yawned and stretched your body; a small cracking sound emits from your bone, and you sigh in relief.

“Next shift here I come!”

As usual people side eyed you when you past them with a tray of food. Working in gastronomy is hard.

Terrible chef, terrible co-workers and even worse the customers. Your chief always tormented you that you'll never reach that dream. That it was useless. You are born poor and you stay poor, especially for a woman.

But that never lets you down. Then you'll be the first woman who'll reach the top without marrying off to a rich man.

The ring bell tuned, and your rich friend Charlotte and her father walked happily into the small business.

Charlotte smiled brightly at you when she saw you. “Y/n! There you are! I have an important question to ask you.” You laughed softly at her antics. she always was always so outgoing and a bright soul.

“Of course.” Charlotte squealed and was quick to grab her father's purse. “Do you think you can make some beignets? You’ll get paid off, of course.” Without even waiting for your answer, she pushed couple hundred dollars into your chest and ran out of the store without even touching the beignets.

Charlotte already paid and it wasn't rare that this happens. All your attention was now on the money in your hand.

With this money it’s more than enough to buy the restaurant you and your father always dreamed about.

Soft tears pearled down on your face and your boss mouth was wide open in shock. “Huh… Wait… WHAT?!”

When you shift was done you were quick to make a visit to the former sugar farmhouse.

The house was pretty worn down but that didn’t hold you back. You swung around the house humming a soft tune as you imagined how the place will look in the future.

"I'm almost there~..."

A soft clink echoed through the hollow place, bringing you back to reality. Scared you looked around you. Maybe a mouse?

Following the clinking sound, you saw a small snake hurt in a water cup. The snake looked up to you with soft red eyes. The white scales reminded you of pure untouched snow.

The snake was probably an albino.

You spread out your hand and took the little injured creator in your hand. Your heart swelled when the little snake slithered up to your wrist embracing it softly.

Its red eyes never left yours and you patted his head slightly.

The Snake watches as you walked stressed out up and down through your little room. A small bandage adorned its little tummy and a small bow tie was around his head.

To say he was embarrassed was an understatement. But the way how happy you applied the little bowtie on his head was giving him pure joy. So, he didn't protest.

When you finally looked at the small clock that was on your room wall you gasp at the time. You grabbed your little purse and the beignets for the little costume party.

Theme: Kingdom.

The snake you named apple slithered up to your neck. It looked like a designer necklace, and you loved it.

You stood unmoving in one of the stands from the party. The landlord of the place where you found him was informing you that someone pays way more than you do.

Your whole body feels like it's going to crumble. You were so close to that dream. You were so close to making your father proud.

All those years for nothing?

Apple looked up to you and he saw the face of pure despair and sadness. His heart broke when you ran towards the landlord in despair. Tears were pouring down your face as you shouted the landlord’s name.

You were close to a panic attack. Apple rested softly on your neck like a scarf. He tried to comfort you in any way.

A woman with a wine glass in her hand accidentally pours the wine onto your dress and Apple hissed at the sudden wetness.

When you turned to look for the landlord he was nowhere to be found. And for the first time you really felt defeated.

Your legs under you gave up and everything around you started to mix in one black hole.

Charlotte hugged you from behind when she saw your broken state. Charlotte dragged you along with her when she looked at the damage on your dress.

She gave you a new dress your mother had designed for her.

A gorgeous flowing dress that beats every physics. A little Tiana was on your head and the color matched perfect with your skin color.

Apple watched with an immense blush on his scales.

You look so pretty in this dress.

You plumped softly onto the bed where apple was laying. He laid under your chin cuddling into your heat. "Oh Apple. I don't know what to do." You whined as soon as those words left you.

“I can help.” As soon as you heard Apple talk you shot up, falling with full force onto the hard floor.

Red mist covered the whole room and in front of you stood a man with white skin, red eyes and royalty looking clothes.

His smirk was large, and he held an apple cane in one of his hand. “Do you trust me princess?”

A/n: I'm obsessed with Tyla's new album.

💫

@i-have-no-life-charlie @sirenetheblogger @concentratedconcrete

Taglist

#shapard #lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #y/n #hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #Lucifer being a cute little snake #one shot

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moralesmilesanhour · 10 months

Note

Could you maybe write something with Miles G. where the reader is kind of shy? Like they go to her house and room for the first time and the reader is nervous about it?

Your house was across the street from the basketball court where Miles first saw you.

When the court was empty, you liked to sit on a bench and doodle in an old composition notebook. No one could look over your shoulder here.

Miles had had a game coming up and felt that his shooting accuracy had been off lately, so he stopped here after school to get in some extra practice. You tensed when you heard his sneakers approaching the entrance, keeping your eyes down and praying that he wouldn't make you leave.

He walked right past you and said nothing.

Only the sound of his footsteps and the basketball he was carrying bouncing across the asphalt could be heard for the entire time he was there until he left.

At some point, Miles came to the same conclusion you did previously and started practicing around the same time every day. You drew, he hooped, the two of you left without a word. A careful routine.

Occasionally, you held your breath and dared to look up to watch him play. Miles' long cornrows brushed his shoulders and flew behind him with every shot, you noticed with amusement. It wasn't long before he made a few appearances in your notebook.

You looked up from your doodling one day and noticed him glancing in your direction. He made another shot, then did it again. And again. After a particularly smooth lay-up, Miles looked back with a grin playing on his face. Once it dawned on you that he was making direct eye-contact, you didn't know what else to do other than smile back.

"You don't talk much, do you?" He would ask you while leaving the court together just before curfew.

"I guess not," you responded in a near whisper.

Miles looked up in thought, then nodded.

"That's alright. Means you think a lot."

Smiles soon turned into winks which turned into short conversations and banter, and now you were both standing in front of the door to your room.

"You gonna go inside?" Miles asked when you hesitantly placed a hand on the doorknob.

"Y-yeah, we could go in."

"I think you need to open the door for that."

"...Right."

With a deep breath, you turned the knob.

The door opened up to a small bedroom with lopsided blinds only up halfway. You winced at the small pile of clothes you had left sitting on a swivel chair as you passed it. What a relief that you hadn't forgotten to make your bed this morning like you usually do.

Miles kicked his sneakers off at the entrance before following behind you. The way he scanned the room made you shift uncomfortably. Suddenly you noticed all of the tiny cracks in the ceiling and blemishes on the walls.

"Cool lights," he remarked, referring to the repurposed Christmas lights strung across your walls.

You relaxed a bit, and grabbed a tiny remote that had been sitting on your desk with an awkward smile. "I can turn them on if you want. They've got a buncha different patterns."

"Knock yourself out. Can I sit?"

"Sure."

You joined him on your bed as you pressed a button on the remote that caused the string lights to twinkle softly. They added a cozy contrast to the harsh neon lights from the towering skyscrapers outside that were visible from your window. It almost felt like a separate world.

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence, entranced by the different patterns blinking above you. It might've been the closest you would ever get to seeing fireworks up close.

"Sorry I don't have any games or anything," you spoke up suddenly. "You must be bored."

Miles turned to face you, closer than he had ever been before today. Close enough for you to realize that his right eye wasn't the same hazel brown as the left, but rather a warm green. He tilted his head quizzically.

"If I was bored, I'd be at home right now."

"But we haven't said anything in like, twenty minutes," you started to laugh.

"You think I like you for bein' a chatterbox?" he parried back.

You shrugged, then leaned your head on his shoulder. "Fair enough."

#earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales x reader #miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #requests #moralesanhour #miles morales x gn reader

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signedkoko · 4 months

Note

You are such a sweetie! Since your requests are open, if you feel inspired and motivated by this (otherwise you can 100% ignore it, writing is hard - I know), could I request a one-shot for Vox who falls in love with a imp!reader? Would love to see how you write their "forbidden" love, how would Vox feel and what if the other Vee's found out about it. It doesn't have to be a story, you can do it in headcannon format if you feel like it suits better! Just try to have fun ♡ -Nia

Intern [Romantic]

In which the techy overlord falls for one of his new hellborn employees, much to his dismay. Reader is genderneutral.

Song - Break My Heart by Dua Lipa

Any hellborn would die for the opportunity that graced you. Well, graced was not the right word; you fought for months against many candidates, beefed up your resume, and pulled some strings to get an unpaid internship for the Vee's. More specifically, a three-month internship at VoxTek with the potential to be hired in immediately after.

It was a position people could only dream of, especially hellborn. Sinner-based companies had a tendency to place sinners above hellborns, but you knew that and used it to your advantage. You couldn't go in as equal; you had to know you were less and make up for it.

The job itself wasn't all that bad, either. It was a lot of unpaid hours, from the crack of dawn to the dip of the sun or later, but it mostly involved the small details. Coffee, sorting, and delivering mail between sections were hard to mess up.

There was the rare extra task where someone messed up and they needed someone to cover quickly.

Today was one of those days. You were at the right place at the right time, sitting by the coffee machine, grabbing yourself your first cup of the day.

That was when he entered, his shoes tapping on the floor with confident clicks, and when he spoke it commanded attention.

Mostly because he spoke through every speaker in the building at once.

"Who here can follow me? No questions asked."

Before anyone could chime in, his monitor did a full rotation of the room, his eyes narrowing when they landed on you.

Your ear piece buzzed to life.

"You, follow me. Now." The overlord spoke directly into your ear using the device, and knowing this may be an opportunity of a lifetime, you followed.

There was no question about who it was: a monitor for a head, control of all technology, and a towering seven feet tall. Vox was the top of the top, and it was hard to believe you were allowed to so much as stand next to him.

It was hard to keep up with his speed-walking pace, but he eventually led you into the mail elevator, hitting the twelfth floor while he muttered something about incompetence amongst hires and how he always had to take control of every production if he wanted it done right.

With a ding and the slow release of the elevator doors, he took the lead once more, though this time he was walking slower and backwards, navigating with ease despite looking directly at you.

"Alrighty intern, ready for your shot at becoming something more? Because our previous voiceover person just walked out on us, and now you'll be covering for them." He stopped with his back against a door, grabbing the handle and awaiting your reply.

"But I only just spoke to..."

"You're cute, you know that? How many videos do you think are out there with your voice? I listened to them all the moment I saw you." Vox only smiled wider when his words sunk in; he saw the usual flash of embarrassment as you pondered what he might have seen. Without waiting any longer, he pushed the door open, spinning so he was finally walking normally.

It was a recording studio, and there were several other employees waiting, mostly those handling the recording equipment and some holding papers.

Vox sat himself in a comfortable rolling chair in front of the glass window that overlooked the recording studio, spinning to hand you some papers that he took from a demon next to him.

"Here is your script; all you have to do is read. Make it sound exciting! Something new, something beyond anyone's imagination, is now available to the public!" He put on a voice as he continued, demonstrating what he hoped you could manage. Someone ushered you into the booth and plopped some headphones over your ears.

"From the top! 3...2..."

The whole process was a thrill, but you managed to run over the script in three separate recordings, of which Vox cited them all as 'stunning' or 'absolutely perfect!', though the producer claimed to need multiple for any potential recording malfunctions.

For an overlord, he had been oddly kind and encouraging throughout the process, and he walked you out himself when everything wrapped up.

Vox continued to speak about what the script was for and how excited he was for the launch, all while leading you through parts of the building you had never been to before. You thought after that he would have sent you back down and forgotten everything, but eventually you found yourself in front of your supervisor.

"Vox! Sir- oh no, had our intern upset you?"

"No, no, not at all. Sorry, what was your name again? Ally? Yeah, listen, Ally, I need you to handle the paperwork they were assigned. Oh! And I want them promoted to my personal studio for tomorrow, too."

Before you or the sinner could ask questions, Vox was already out of there, chipper as ever.

That evening, you went home with an upgraded badge and access card, along with details on your new position and expectations. It was a lot to get through, but you felt extremely proud of yourself for doing so well. Hell, you met THE Vox, and he wanted you to be the voice of VoxTek?

While flipping through the pile of information, the most surprising aspect was the six-figure salary you were about to get started on.

. . .

Surrounded by monitors, Vox watched various camera feeds as they traced your steps home. Vox saw you smile from several angles, the electricity between his antennae flickering. Each monitor had some kind of file or piece of information on you, and he was only pulled out of his trance when he got a call from Velvette.

"Hello there, Velvette! What can I help you with today?" Leaning back in his chair, the overlord flicked his wrist, which shot the call from his monitor onto one of the many others displaying you.

"I need your guys for a sh- wait. Vox, what the fuck is all of that?" While the fashionista originally had her eyes elsewhere, her gaze quickly fixed on his background, which was quickly followed by all the screens going blank with his logo.

"That? Oh, oh no, its nothing at a-"

"That's the imp you were talking about last week! The one you were trying to get to apply to VoxTek!"

"Well, maybe, but-"

Once again, she cut him off with a gurgling groan.

"Listen, I don't care who or what you fuck; just get your camera crew here and we'll talk about this later. Kay? Kisses!" Before she abruptly hung up on him, he could have sworn he heard a small 'at least they're hot' before the call disconnected.

Tensed from the interaction, Vox could only groan and dramatically fall back into his chair, tapping his claws along the armrest.

So what if he scouted you out? You didn't know that, and you were happy about it anyway! One by one, each monitor opened back up on your data, the overlord grinning.

It was better this way; everyone would think it was the intern going after him, so nobody knew one of the top overlords in hell was dotting on some helpless imp.

Author's Note - I love Vox so much...hes so obsessive but he denies every accusation (its the same w Alastor lmao) like its going to hurt him! But thank you so much for the request Nia, I hope this interests you 🖤

Word Count - 1,219

#koko writez #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #hazbin hotel x reader #helluva boss x reader #reader insert #x reader #vox #vox x reader

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sleepysnk · 1 year

Text

a/n: rindou was highly requested on my feedback form, so i decided to give it a shot and try writing something for him! :) forgive me if my characterization is trash. i hope you guys enjoy <3.

pairings: rindou haitani x fem!reader

warnings: some angst, cheating, businessman!rindou, mentions of reader x male!oc, hookups, nsfw, smut, flirty rindou, unprotected sex, some possessive behavior, use of pet names (baby, angel, my girl, princess, good girl), dirty talk, creampie, choking, praising.

synopsis: your boyfriend of almost one and a half years has been unfaithful to you with multiple women at his job. you’re aware of this every single day, and he doesn’t even hide it anymore. one day, you met his boss, rindou haitani, and were completely captivated by the man. he was more polite to you than any other man had been, so one night when your shitty boyfriend was clearly cheating, you decide to invite rindou over to have some fun of your own.

promotion ft. rindou haitani

11:58 PM-> Yakashi: i’ll be home tomorrow morning

11:59 PM-> Yakashi: don’t wait up for me. i got business to attend to.

Your eyes rolled at the messages you received from your lover. It wasn’t unusual for your boyfriend to stay out late for work or go out with his buddies until the crack of dawn, but what honestly annoyed you the most was the fact that Yakashi was a horrible fucking liar. You were completely aware that he wasn’t being truthful in any of those words he sent you. However, you always had to force yourself into believing whatever shitty lie he came up with next.

You knew exactly what he was doing. Yakashi was clearly cheating on you with another woman.

A little over six months ago, you had discovered that he had been unfaithful to you. You unfortunately had the experience of seeing some of the messages he had been sending back and forth with other women. Some of which were actually his coworkers that you knew of. The others were completely strangers to you. Finding out that information crushed you to your core. You had been with him for a whole year at that point. Three hundred sixty five days. It left you with so many questions, and it eventually led to an intense argument inside your apartment. Yakashi denied it all at first. He claimed that they were simply platonic relationships, but you backed yours with the fact that you would never send your male friend photos of your genitals and consistently flirt with them. After that, he finally released the truth and admitted that he was being dishonest with you.

For a little while, you could hardly trust the man. Yakashi wanted to continue being in a relationship with you, and he promised many times that he would remain loyal to you. He also said that he loved you and if you ever wanted to search his phone you had every right to. It sounded reassuring to you, so you decided to give him another chance. You believed in second chances and you prayed to god that he would never do it again.

Though, like every promise he made, it soon ended up becoming shattered.

After about three months, Yakashi had cheated on you yet again. You had the urge to confront him once more, but unfortunately, you knew you would sound like a broken record. You also didn’t want to lose your relationship with the one man you found so much happiness in. A complete war had begun inside of yourself. You knew full well that it was wrong to stay with a man who was making a fool out of you every night, but what could you do? You lived in the same apartment with one another, and you knew if you ended the relationship that you would barely be able to make ends meet every week. As much as you tried to swallow down the reality, you always had hope that one day his behavior would change and he would be the same man you met almost a year prior. It seemed highly unlikely, but you always tried to look at the brighter side to things.

All of the signs were in your face. You never missed the aroma of sweet perfume wafting from his dress shirts, the random text messages he would receive in the middle of the night, maroon lipstick stains on his white collar, the out of the blue disappearances throughout the day. He had also become quite secretive of his whereabouts as well. He would often not reply to your messages until way later. It was so painfully obvious that he wasn’t telling you the truth. You honestly wished he would so you could just abandon the man entirely.

Despite all of that, you stayed. You would put on fake smiles and those stupid “I love you’s” that meant absolutely nothing at the end of the day. Being with him exhausted you. You knew a man like him would never ever change. Once a cheater, always a cheater. It was a very well known fact.

One day, you were informed by your boyfriend that you had to attend a dinner party for the company he worked for. It was very professional and Yakashi had drilled it into your mind that you must dress very nicely and be as polite as possible with his coworkers. Originally, you didn’t want to attend such an event. Yakashi would probably just toss you to the side and do whatever the fuck he wanted with whoever. It honestly didn’t seem like it would be of any positive benefit for you, so the idea of going with him seemed sour inside your mind. Why would you get all dolled up to be seen with a man who never knew your worth? His damn coworkers probably were aware of his actions too, so you would probably receive lots of side eyes and whispers.

However, despite showing little interest in going, he somehow managed to get you to come.

Your dress was gorgeous. It was black one that stopped around mid-thigh and you wore gold jewelry to match it. Your boyfriend didn’t show much interest in your outfit. He gave you that fake grin and whispered how great you looked, but you could tell by his dull eyes and forced tone that he was lying to you. You swallowed down that anger that bubbled inside you and put on a feigned expression. You just had to survive through the entire night and then you would be able to put the whole thing behind you.

Once you arrived at the banquet hall, you saw just how elegant it was. The inside was honestly like a mansion with how luxurious it presented itself to be. The floors were made of a rich marble that had specks of gold inside it, an impressively large chandelier hung above your head with a few tears of glass hanging from the sections. Overall, it was a beautiful sight. It just went to show how much your boyfriend’s job took these things seriously. Everyone around you was dressed from head to toe in expensive items. Some of the women wore red bottoms, while the men had Rolex watches wrapped around their wrists. It was no wonder these people seemed happy to stay at their jobs.

A few of Yakashi’s coworkers had approached him when you both stepped into the ballroom. There was soft music being played from a piano that sat in the corner of the room. It was a very lively place. Though, your positive emotions were soon washed away by your boyfriend.

“This is (Y/N), she’s my date for tonight.”

For tonight.

Those words pissed you off more than you realized. You would have thought that your own boyfriend would introduce you as his girlfriend or even his significant other, but no. You were just his “date” for the evening. That’s how you came to the conclusion that he wouldn’t ever return back to the person he used to be. He was practically concealing your relationship from the eyes of other people. It made you sick. Was he embarrassed to be seen with you? Was there something wrong with you? There were so many itching questions. One thing was for sure though, you felt insecure. You despised feeling such an emotion at your age, but the man you were with did absolutely nothing to tame those self destructive thoughts you had on a daily basis. He put you in such an uncomfortable position that night that you had thoughts of just leaving early.

You managed to maintain a composed expression and introduced yourself to the people he worked with. They asked about what your job was and how you knew Yakashi.

If only they knew.

After some mingling and conversation, you both ended up at a round table with chairs circling it. Your name was on a small place card, written in some of the most beautiful cursive you had ever laid your eyes upon. You had assumed that is where you would be sitting, so you plopped down on the chair beside Yakashi. Soon enough, other guests had arrived and joined you both at the table. All of them were familiar to your boyfriend. Once introductions were over, you had completely tuned out the entire conversation. He blabbed on about work and how he couldn’t wait to buy this new car he had been eyeing for a little while. All of it bored the hell out of you. He never once considered what you might be feeling, nor did he make any effort to include you in the conversation. It honestly felt like you were sitting at a table back in high school.

It wasn’t until about ten minutes in that someone else had approached the table. Everyone sitting there had lightened up and began shaking hands with someone who was standing right beside the table. Yakashi sounded more thrilled than he was before, so you lifted your eyes away from the tablecloth to see who was there. Your eyes landed on a very fine man. He made your heart race with nervousness, and he was honestly just drop dead gorgeous.

He wore a navy blue suit that looked more expensive than the rent Yakashi paid. A tattoo had trailed down his hand and a nice gold watch was wrapped around his wrist. He had eyes the color of amethyst and his hair was styled in a mullet that paused at his shoulders. The color was a mix between black and lavender. Some of his bangs had covered his eyes, but it seemed just comfortable enough for him to see. You didn’t know who he was, but judging by everyone’s demeanor towards him, you came to the conclusion that he was of some importance to everyone there. Your boyfriend was speaking with him in such a way like he was trying to impress him. Everyone else was sort of doing the same thing, and they all seemed to be on eggshells around the mysterious man. His identity to you was unknown. You had never seen him prior to the dinner party, and your boyfriend never really mentioned anyone fitting his description. Not surprising.

Then, much to your shock, the man noticed your presence at the table. He sensed your awkwardness and sort of felt bad for you. He completely missed you at the table, and who was he to not be a proper host?

“And who are you?”

Once you lifted your eyes, you saw him staring at you. Your mouth had gone completely dry and you had no idea what to say. All of the guests, including Yakashi, had their eyes on you. His voice was smooth and it slipped through your ears like honey.

Yakashi seemed to notice you being unmoved by the question asked to you.

“This is-“

“I didn’t ask you, I asked her.”

The atmosphere around your table fell still at the man’s response to your boyfriend. You had never seen someone speak to him in such a manner, and it even astounded some of the people sitting around you. Yakashi’s face had turned somewhat red from embarrassment. Who was this man? He easily had the respect of every individual in that room, but what was he to them? Was he a coworker who had no problem putting others in their place? Could he be higher up? Your mind buzzed with questions you had very little answers to. He was very bold, though. You would fully give him that credit.

“I’m (Y/N).. Yakashi’s date.”

The man beside your boyfriend flickered his eyes from where you were sitting to Yakashi. It was almost like he was reading if you guys were some perfect match. There was this expression on his features that seemed almost.. shady. A look that screamed he knew something that he wasn’t supposed to. It made you wonder what that could be. This man clearly had some hold over your boyfriend that you had yet to know of.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Rindou Haitani. I’m Yakashi’s boss and owner of this business.”

Your mouth almost fell open when he said that he was your boyfriend’s boss. It all added up now. Everyone had to respect the man who was the reason for their employment. It was no wonder Yakashi was trying to suck up to that man. Rindou had that high power over the rest of them. It honestly made you intrigued. He was quite the man. He then approached you in your seat, barely giving any mind to Yakashi who had become very quiet since Rindou had shut him down. He outstretched his hand, and you gladly reached over to shake it. He had a delicious cologne lingering from his suit. It smelled expensive. Better than anything Yakashi had ever owned.

“I hope you enjoy yourself tonight.”

His voice sent shivers ghosting down your spine from how deep it had become. Once he released your hand, he walked away from your table and left you ultimately stunned. He went off to greet other guests and people who worked with him. All you could think was the same thing over and over the entire evening.

What a man.

Rindou was clearly no stranger to the business game. He had his shit together, and fuck, he was so handsome. You were wondering how a man like that didn’t have multiple women clinging onto his arm. He seemed to have no problem telling people the blunt truth, which was so attractive. A man who could make others cower in their knees was so hot to you. You knew having a wandering eye while being in a relationship was wrong, but your boyfriend was doing it twenty four seven. He was going behind your back all the time, so you reciprocating that energy only felt deserved if you were being honest. He didn’t have to know either.

Afterwards, you had seemed to always somehow run into the man.

There was an occasion where Yakashi needed you to come drop off his lunch. You were in the middle of dealing with something for work when the man had phoned you over the issue. As much as you wanted to tell him to go fuck himself and that he had a car too, you obliged and went back to your shared apartment to grab the small container that contained his lunch. You made the lengthy drive to the building he worked in which was downtown. Your boyfriend instructed you to leave it in the break room and he would grab it once he had a moment of free time. Once you reached the top floor, the receptionist had directed you down a lengthy corridor with many doors on each side. Some of them were shut with clients sitting in the chairs, while others were left wide open and empty. He worked at such a great place, yet he was a piece of shit.

Eventually, you had gotten lost in the hallways of the building. Some of them led you absolutely nowhere or they went to doors that could only be gone through with a key card. You didn’t have one, so you honestly felt like you were an idiot for walking around so freely. Someone was bound to catch you at some point and question your reasoning for loitering in an empty hall with a container of food in your hand. You figured you would call Yakashi and ask him to pick it up somewhere else.

“Lost?”

The container in your hand almost went slack when a voice spoke from behind you. For a moment, you believed that someone had found you lingering around and were suspicious of your presence. However, that soon changed when you realized it wasn’t a mere stranger concerned for your well being. It was Rindou Haitani. The same man who owned that building you were mindlessly walking around in. This had to be one of the most embarrassing moments of your life. The big boss caught you standing there, looking like an idiot. He probably would throw you out and scold your boyfriend for allowing you to enter. You couldn’t wait to feel that wrath once you went home.

“I was looking for Yakashi.. he told me to bring his lunch.”

Your eyes didn’t miss the way Rindou’s expression slightly shifted at the mention of Yakashi. He honestly looked like he had something he wanted to say, but he chose to keep his mouth shut. Instead, that odd expression averted to a smile.

“Yakashi is busy, but I can take it to him for you. I can escort you to the exit as well, if you’d like.”

Your eyes widened a little from his sudden proposal, but it was a lot better than wandering around without knowing a damn thing. Plus, who were you to deny an offer like that? You had only about fifteen minutes before you were supposed to head back to work, and you weren’t trying to piss off your boss by being late. You then walked over to the man, handing the container of food to him. Rindou was much more attractive up close. He seemed more professional and serious rather than his social demeanor he had at the dinner party.

“Thank you, I appreciate it. I have to go back to work anyway.”

Rindou seemed satisfied with your response, so he motioned for you to follow him down the corridor. It was sort of a quiet walk. Neither of you spoke any words, but the silence between you both was comfortable like you two were good friends or something. You passed by a few people who said hello to him or asked him how his day was. All of them instantly shifted in their stances when he passed by. It was almost amazing to see how quick people change when someone in a higher position of power is in their presence. He could change the entire energy of a room with just a snap of his finger.

Eventually, you both made it to the end of the corridor and back where you began. You were relieved to have made it out without an issue from Rindou. He would probably gossip about that experience later on. This had to be the oddest experience you have ever had, and you hoped to drown it out later on by going back to work.

“Have a good one, (Y/N). I hope to see you again soon.”

You wished that was the last time, but it wasn’t.

You had faced Rindou multiple times after that. Whether it was dropping off some food for Yakashi, or seeing him at one of those dinner events. He was always somehow around the corner, and each time he was always conversing with you in a polite manner. There were things that Rindou did that no other man, not even Yakashi, would ever do. He held doors open for you, pulled out your chair one time, and he had even complimented your diamond earrings that you had received as a gift from your mother. He was a sweet man. He could almost give you cavities from it all. There was a feeling inside your chest that was warm whenever Rindou was around you. It was wrong, so wrong. You still had a boyfriend and that was his boss. Seeing it as something more than just professional would be inappropriate, and you knew that.

Things had really come to a head when you had gone to another dinner event with Yakashi. He had wandered off somewhere inside the banquet and left you by yourself at the table. He was probably in some bathroom with his tongue buried down some girl’s throat, but at that point, you could care less. She could have whatever shitty man your boyfriend was.

You sat there, bored. Not much was really happening except for the many conversations you could hear around you. People were discussing business deals and flexing whatever amount of money they received on their check. All of it was foreign to you and just really boring. You honestly just considered ordering an Uber and going home by yourself. You could care less if Yakashi would complain the next morning. It’s not your fault that your shitty excuse of a boyfriend decided to leave you there unattended.

You reached for your purse which was hanging on the wooden chair you were sitting on. You pulled the buttons holding it together apart and reached inside of it to fish for your cell phone. As you were digging around, you paused when you felt something foreign inside of your bag. There was a small piece of paper folded neatly. Your eyebrows furrowed the moment your eyes settled on the object. You had no recollection of placing the paper inside your bag before you left, so you grew curious as to what was inside of it. You pulled it out and opened the top flap, reading the contents written on it.

“You seem lonely, call me sometime- Rin.”

Warmth spread across your cheeks when you noticed his phone number was written just underneath the text. There was no way he actually made such a bold move. It felt unbelievable to you. A man like him doing such a thing had completely thrown you off. It could have very easily been a test. He could have just done that to see if you would possibly send him a message, but it didn’t seem like Rindou had anything against your boyfriend.

You decided to conceal the secret and hide the phone number in your purse. Yakashi would never search through your things unless he was looking for his cell phone, but he hardly ever gave you the chance to even hold it. He was always so secretive. He had even gone to the lengths of removing you as his lock screen. You knew exactly why he did such a thing, so that’s why you never asked him about it. He would make up some stupid excuse and expect you to believe it. That’s what happened when you questioned him the first time. He practically tugged at certain strings to make his stories believable, but you weren’t an idiot anymore. You knew full well what the hell he was doing behind your back, so you could care less if he found the phone number in your purse. He probably was just waiting to catch you doing something so he could seem like the good guy in whatever foolish story he’d tell his buddies or his next girlfriend.

You never texted Rindou. To be honest, you were afraid to. He was quite an intimidating guy and you weren’t sure what he would say, so you pretty much left it be. You only saw him twice after he dropped his phone number in your purse, and all of them were very friendly encounters. Though, you didn’t miss the way he placed his hands around your waist to “scooch” past you in the crowded room. Those touches sparked on your skin and made you melt like putty, but you remained firm and tried to stay calm.

That was until tonight hit. You were fully expecting those text messages from Yakashi. He claimed that he would be staying late after work to deal with some extra paperwork left behind, and you just shrugged when he told you. You honestly found peace in his absence in your bedroom. You didn’t have to deal with those fake words he’d say to you whenever he lied down in your bed. It also meant that you got to do whatever you wanted.

It was already five past midnight. You just reacted to the text messages and exited the text app. You already know what the hell he was up to right now. He was probably dragging some girl to a hotel room and having sex with her. It almost felt unfair to you. He was here having the time of his life without a care in the world, while you were at your apartment in an empty bed with no one beside you. It was lonely. You never considered cheating on Yakashi before. Some people say it’s unclassy to do the same thing to someone else, but that never made sense to you. If anything, it made a lot of sense to do it right back to the person who destroyed your trust in the first place. Although, sometimes it backfired, and the guy or girl wins in the end because they cover their ass so hard that you’re made into the villain. Some people just loved living in denial. Even your own friends told you to do the same thing to him, but with who? You had guy friends but none of them would ever sleep with you while you were with Yakashi.

An idea crossed into your mind when browsing your brain for a man you could possibly sleep with, and it was a bad one.

You don’t know why you thought of Rindou as the first candidate. It must have been his polite demeanor towards you. For once, a man made you feel like you mattered. He made you feel beautiful and his presence was almost comforting to you in a way. You sort of blamed it on the fact that he was the first person showing you attention in almost six months, but there was just something about that man that was completely alluring to you. He did things that Yakashi never could do.

You scrolled through your contacts to find Rindou’s. It had remained untouched since you added it into your phone secretly. You weren’t sure if the man wasn’t even awake at this hour. He could very much be asleep in his own bed, and it honestly seemed a little embarrassing to wake up to see a missed text from you. You chewed on your bottom lip, heart pounding furiously against your chest as you typed and deleted a message on your keyboard. Was this even a good idea? He could very easily tell Yakashi or even somebody else, but Rindou didn’t even know you two were in a serious relationship. He claimed you were his “date” so maybe Rindou had assumed you were single, but truth is, you weren’t. The last thing you would want is this circling back to Yakashi and ending up in deep shit. He had a big mouth on him.

Though, the pure thought that your own boyfriend was out there with some other woman angered you. He had gotten away with it so many times that you pretty much didn’t give a fuck if he found out. Yakashi wasn’t an idiot. He knew exactly what he was doing to you, and that needed to come to a close.

Fuck it.

You sat up in your bed and began thinking of a text. You wanted something simple and casual. He was in fact a businessman and typing like you were a damn teenager in heat would rub this man the wrong way. You wanted to play it cool and safe. Moving too quickly might cause a rift between you both.

You: hi rindou, it’s (y/n)

Once you sent the message, you clicked your phone off and waited. Your heart was slamming against your rib cage and your mouth had gone completely dry. You sort of prayed that he was asleep so you could deal with such a matter tomorrow morning. Honestly, you just hoped you didn’t look like an idiot messaging him in the middle of the night. He could very easily be busy too and not paying attention to his cell phone.

You were about to give up about five minutes in, but the vibration of your phone made you fumble for your device.

Rindou replied.

Rindou: took you a while

Rindou: but it’s a little late princess.. what’s got you messaging me?

The pet name made your cheeks burn. You didn’t know why, but the thrill of this conversation was making you excited. It was almost like doing such a thing was good for you. After all, it was Rindou Haitani that you were messaging with. He seemed like the kind of man that could get anything he wanted without having to apply force to get it.

You: i’m just bored and can’t sleep

You: do you want to come over?

Asking that question took a lot of confidence for you to do. You had no idea what he might be thinking right now. He could easily laugh and just block your number right then and there if he wanted to. He made you nervous. The good and bad kind. You hoped that he had something good to say, and you would respect any decision that he came forth with. If that wasn’t his cup of tea, then that was completely okay with you.

Rindou: mhm sure

Rindou: send me your address i’ll swing by

Your eyes widened and shock was written all over your features. He actually said yes to you. You couldn’t believe what the hell you were reading at that moment. A huge wave of relief had crashed over you at his reply. You feared that he might make fun of you or joke about it, but he didn’t. This probably was something he was used to very often. He seemed like a ladies man if you were being honest. He probably had tons of women in his bed before.

You wasted no time and sent your address to the man. Little did you know that the text you sent would be the reason that Rindou, not even thirty minutes later, had his cock stuffing inside your tight little hole.

Your legs had been spread apart and your clothes were all discarded onto the floor near your bed. Rindou was big. He was splitting your pussy apart with his thrusts that you could hardly take him. He was so handsome up above you. His lilac hair clung to his forehead from the beads of sweat that had formed on his skin, and there was a slight dust of pink that swept across his cheeks. He was fucking you so good. It was like scratching an itch inside of your brain. He was so much better than anyone else you had ever been in bed with. God, where the hell had he been your entire life? He was right under your nose the whole time.

Your hands held onto his broad shoulders, eyes trailing down the tattoo that covered the right side of his body. He was gorgeous to look at. He had such a divine physique underneath his clothes that it turned you on even more seeing him naked. “Ah! Rindou.. fuck.. so good!” your voice was whiny and almost breathless as you spoke. Hearing that tone made Rindou all the more needy to fuck your brains out.

He smirked at the noises you were making. He knew you were probably a goddess in bed, but he never imagined that you would be this beautiful underneath him. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. There was just so much to look at. Your gorgeous face, those pretty tits that were bouncing with every thrust of his hips, the way your cunt sucked in his cock. He couldn’t believe a woman like you was being fucked by him right now. “Yeah.. keep callin’ for me, angel! Say my name..” his fingers curled around the sheets that were beside your bed. They turned painfully white from how hard his grip was on the fabric.

Neither of you had expected this moment to ever become a reality. It honestly started out casual. Rindou had arrived within about fifteen minutes. It was much quicker than you had expected, but you gladly opened the door and allowed him inside. He was not in his usual suit and tie that he prodded around in at work. Instead, he wore sweatpants the color of charcoal and a loose white t-shirt. He was a lot more friendly and sort of dropped that professional tone he had whenever he saw you. It was kind of like whiplash seeing him cracking jokes and swearing like a damn sailor inside your room, but that nature made the atmosphere less tense. You felt like you could actually speak with him without walking on eggshells.

Eventually, the funny and light conversations turned much darker and more somber. You sort of cracked. You hesitated so many times, but all of the emotions inside of you had flowed out about Yakashi. Rindou listened intently as you spoke about the many affairs he had behind your back. You ranted and spoke about how he was still doing it now, and how his treatment towards you has only made you angrier with the man. It was surprising to Rindou that you were aware of such a thing, because he ultimately revealed to you that he knew something was up. He knew you weren’t just Yakashi’s date that night, because he had seen a framed photo of you both in his office a while back. It wasn’t until he noticed that photograph disappear and women appearing randomly in his office that he placed the pieces together and realized he was either cheating or single. That first one seemed likely when he saw you walk in with him at the dinner party.

Rindou felt bad for you. He truly did. You had stayed in a relationship that completely drained you and you feared becoming homeless because of him. He understood that internal fight with wanting to stay, but also knowing that it isn’t right to. You deserved so much better than that.

He knew it was wrong, but he kissed you.

For a minute, you were frozen, but you then kissed back when you felt how warm his lips were against your own. Rindou asked if that was something you wanted to do with him, and you hastily said yes to him. You didn’t give a shit about Yakashi anymore and you had honestly moved on a while ago. You knew he did too, so none of it mattered to you anymore. All you desired was Rindou, and that energy was gladly reciprocated. He wanted you just as much as you wanted him.

Rindou took genuine care of you. He thought of you as fine china that could be broken at any moment. You were delicate and beautiful. You didn’t deserve to be tampered with by some lame excuse of a man who didn’t deserve you. Rindou was going to show you how much he valued you as a person. Cheating on someone was pussy shit. He knew better than to ever do that to someone else. Yakashi could go fuck himself if he believed that he was some great guy. Rindou was about to fuck the shit out of his girl and not think twice about it.

You were in complete and utter bliss. Rindou had complete control over your body, and he was doing everything to make you wrap around his finger. You stared at him with hazy eyes and just let the pleasure take over you. You completely submitted to him. “Rindou! Rindou! S-Shit..” you arched your back upwards to feel more of his fat cock. He was irresistible right now. In all honesty, you wished you had made a move much sooner if you knew he would be fucking you this great on your shared bed. “So good.. mmph! Need you..”

Rindou’s hand went to trail up your body. Your skin formed goosebumps at his gentle touch against your skin. His mouth watered at the sight of your hardened nipples. You were such a fucking beauty. He would treat you so much better than that stupid asshole. He didn’t give a shit. He would probably fire Yakashi once the weekend was over. “Fuck.. yeah? You need me, princess?” his hand went to wrap around your throat, squeezing hard enough to restrict air from flowing into your lungs. “Tell me how bad you need me, baby. Need me more than him? More than that lousy dick he was giving you? Fucckkk, baby, I’ll give you it all. Won’t need that fucking asshole after I’m done..”

You could hardly speak from his hold on your neck. His possessive side turned you on so much. Rindou could feel your walls fluttering around him, and it made him all the more excited. You liked hearing him say such things to you. He would for sure take a note of that. “Rin..dou! Y-Yes!” you managed to gasp through his firm grip. Your eyes showed how desperate you were for the man.

Rindou’s pace had suddenly picked up. Your pussy was dripping wet. It was making a mess on the blankets that you were lying on. Neither of you paid much mind to that. All you wanted was each other, and you were for sure going to have one another no matter what. Your eyes practically rolled back at the tip of his dick kissing at your g-spot. White stars filled your vision every time he reached that delicious spot. He was finding all the areas that made you dizzy, and all you could do was take it. He was truly good at what he did. He was so much better than Yakashi. He didn’t make you feel that burning desire in your gut that Rindou was creating for you.

He thought you were one of the most beautiful women he ever laid his eyes upon. When he saw you that night at the dinner party, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. Meanwhile, your shit boyfriend was sitting there beside you not saying a damn word. If it wasn’t so professional, Rindou would have escorted you elsewhere for a drink or even a private walk around the banquet. Your dress was gorgeous and the fact that Yakashi paid zero attention to you made him appalled. You were perfect in every aspect. Someone had to inform you of that, and it was going to be him.

Rindou abandoned his hold on your throat, allowing oxygen to fill into your lungs and for proper blood flow to return to your brain. Your lips fell slack and those pretty moans of yours echoed off the walls of your bedroom. Hearing his name only encouraged him to go faster and to place you on cloud nine. He took your thighs and put them around his waist, earning a much deeper angle. Rindou already knew he found that nice button inside of you already. Your whines would grow sharper the more he hit it. “So perfect, baby! Love this fuckin’ pussy.. he didn’t know what the hell to do with all of this, yeah?” he then leaned towards the shell of your ear, his breath tickling your skin. “Well I do.. and I’ll never that – fuck! – asshole touch you again!”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him towards you for a sloppy wet kiss. He swallowed every noise that escaped your throat with such ease. Your nails dug into the flesh of his shoulder blade. He was winding you up so perfectly that all you could even think of was Rindou. It was almost too much to handle. “R-Rindou..!” you broke the kiss, feeling almost too tired to be able to kiss back. “Close.. I’m close..!”

He grinned devilishly at those words. He knew that moment would arrive soon, considering your pussy was closing in around his shaft. Rindou wanted to make you cum so hard that you would only think about him. You needed someone to fuck? You better come and call him up, because he was the only one who could make you feel that way. Your cunt was calling for him the second he took your panties off earlier. “Yeah? Close, princess? Shit, I can feel ya clenchin’ real tight for me..” he smirked. “Gonna make you all mine, no one else’s. Especially not that asshole..”

The thought of belonging to Rindou turned you on so much. You didn’t oppose the idea whatsoever because you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. He could give you the things you had been lacking for the past few months, and that only made you need him more than ever. “Yes! God, yes! ‘M yours, Rindou!” you cried, looking at him with that fucked out expression he loved so much.

Rindou placed one of his hands on your hip, holding it quite firmly. He started fucking you at such a relentless pace it almost knocked all of the wind out of your lungs. He hit your g-spot so many times that your vision had become blurry from the repetitive thrusts against it. The knot inside your belly tightened, only drawing you closer to that climax you wanted more than anything. “C’mon, angel, be a good girl and cum around my cock..” he encouraged you. “You got a real man fuckin’ you, baby. Fuck! Would never cheat on you.. I’d give you the – shit – the fuckin’ world, princess.”

Your orgasm then rippled through your body. A loud whine filled the room and your body shook from the intensity of it. You hadn’t cum that hard in a very long time. Rindou smirked when he felt your pussy clamp around his cock. Your walls spasmed and twitched, creating a white ring around his dick from your cum. You were such a good girl.

Rindou was close to his own high. His cock was twitching inside of your cunt, and there was a pit forming in his belly. You could also tell from the way he grunted that he was almost there. Your mind was foggy, but the desire to have him filling you up was there. You wanted him to claim you as his, and that was the most perfect way to do it. “C-Cum inside me, Rindou..!” your voice was somewhat shaky from the high of your orgasm, but he understood you loud and clear.

You were so fucking nasty, but he loved it. Seeing you begging for his cum to be inside of you only made him more excited to let go. “Want me to cum inside you..? Oh, baby, I’ll do just that..” he groaned, feeling his balls twitch. “Gonna make sure you’re nice and filled.. yeah. He won’t break that pretty little heart of yours anymore. You’re my girl now, baby! ‘M gonna spoil you rotten.. give you more than he ever did..”

A moan slipped from his lips when he finally reached his high. Rindou held your hip with such a tight grip it would probably leave a bruise. His thick cum seeped into your cunt, covering your velvet walls with white. The warmth spread across your belly, earning several shivers from you. He then leaned down, pressing his lips against yours. This kiss wasn’t aggressive or rough, but instead, it was sweet and quite gentle. It made you melt. There was this swell inside your chest when you both made contact with one another. He was the one person you had been searching for. You spent all these months wallowing in your pain and anger, and having this moment made those negative thoughts disappear within an instant. Rindou was truly the person you needed.

He broke the kiss, pressing his forehead against your own. Both of you were quite exhausted and your bodies were at their limits. Rindou thought you looked so pretty. Your messy hair, glossy but also swollen lips, clouded hues. There was so much to like about you. How the hell did you end up with an asshole like Yakashi? He never deserved any ounce of your time or energy. That needed to change, and Rindou would happily be the person to shift that.

“You’re so beautiful.. I-“

“What the fuck?!”

You and Rindou both turned your heads to look at your bedroom door, which was now wide open. Shock wrote itself on both of your features. You weren’t expecting Yakashi to be standing there. You thought the man would return sometime tomorrow morning like he promised. You would have enough time by then to cover your tracks, but his sudden arrival completely threw you and Rindou off. Neither of you knew what to do or say, so it was somewhat awkward.

However, Rindou cleared his throat. Yakashi was standing there stunned at what he was seeing. His own boss was lying in bed with you. Rindou glanced towards your boyfriend with a serious expression. “Yakashi..” he shifted around on the bed, allowing you to cover yourself.

“Rindou..” your boyfriend replied, watching with intense eyes as he stood up.

“You’re fired, I want your shit gone by Monday.”

#summer speaks #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers fanfiction #rindou haitani #rindou haitani x you #rindou haitani x reader #rindou #rindou smut #rindou x reader #rindou x y/n #rindou x you #anime fanfiction #anime fanfic

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deathbyathousandspiders · 1 year

Note

peter and reader at avengers tower and they’re both avengers but they’re “best friends” cuddled up on the couch asleep and none of the avengers let them forget it for weeks

i gotchu ;) also thank you for the request !! i really appreciate it! <3

!!! read part two | part three | part four | part five here !!!

✨masterlist✨.

1.4k.

Being an Avenger definitely came with plenty of risks, seeing as you put your life on the line every day in attempt to save the world. Along with the risks, there were several upsides that outweighed your anxieties about the superhero lifestyle.

Every few months, the team was required to spend a week at the compound for training; it was something fairly stupid, but staying in the mansion for a week wasn’t something you’d complain about. Especially when the team made the most of it.

You enjoyed getting up at dawn to run with Steve, and cooking dinners with Wanda. One thing always stood out to be something you looked forward to most: movie night. You came up with the system so that everyone had a chance to pick a movie, and this week, it was Steve’s turn to pick. Unfortunately, he chose “Snow White and the Seven Dwarves.”

The entire team corralled on the couch, sharing four or five bowls of popcorn and chips, and watching the movie on the giant flat–screen in the meeting room. You were sandwiched between Steve and Peter, attentive to the screen in fear that Steve would be offended if you weren’t. It made you crack a small grin to overhear Sam trying to commentate on the movie, and Bucky immediately tell him to shut the hell up.

You don’t recall at what point of the movie you fell asleep, or how the blanket got draped over you, but it didn’t catch your attention quite like the silent snorer you were cuddled next to. The sound was oddly soothing, and the arm snaked around your torso warmed you more than the blanket did. You would’ve tried to drift back off to sleep in the midst of comfort, if not for the snickers heard beyond your closed eye–lids.

“They look so cozy.” Bucky’s voice was hushed, speaking just above a whisper. The dark of your closed eyes lit up for a second by what you recognized as a shuttered flash photo.

Shit.

“I’m going to make that my lock–screen.” Sam added, trying not to sound as amused as he felt.

There was a quiet pause. “Isn’t that a little weird?” Bucky’s whispered question carried itself above the scattered footsteps of their departure.

When their ascending paces creaked the carpeted floors further out, your eyes lifted, turning your head up to look up at your designated pillow. Upon shifting your sleeping position, you watched Peter adjust mid–slumber, unconsciously catering to your new position.

A smile touched your lips at how peaceful he looked beside you — mouth parted slightly, eyes gently shut, curls falling in front of his face. When you moved to sit up a little, his armed grip around your waist grew tighter, and his sleep stirred at the idea of your absence. You decided against leaving, or moving, and rested your head in the nook of his shoulder. Sleep welcomed you back into slumber quicker than Sam changed his wallpaper.

When you woke in the morning, you thought almost nothing of falling asleep next to Peter. The only thing left to remind you was the lingering aroma of Peter’s cologne, and the ghost of his arm leaving your waistline colder than the rest of your body.

You didn’t pay much mind to it, nor how frequently your train of thought seemed to derail back to Peter somehow; how snug his hold was, the way your head fit with his shoulder like a missing puzzle piece. It felt like a slow–burning ache, the way you missed him. But he was merely your best friend, and the rest of the team seemed to agree with that.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.” Sam chimed, watching you waltz into the kitchen. He leaned the small of his back against the marble countertop beside the espresso machine, waiting for the pull of his latte shots.

Your hair was still damp from your shower, and your hoodie husked over your body to protect from the looming winter chill. You arched a brow lightly at how amused he seemed to be, slowly recalling his whispered conversation with Bucky from the night prior. You decided to be coy with him. “I think you’ve got your Disney movies mixed up.” You started, pressing on your tiptoes to reach a bowl from the shelf. “We watched Snow White last night, Sam.”

He hummed, sounding skeptical. “Well, everybody but you and your little cuddle–bug boyfriend.” Sam tried to keep himself from laughing. He started to steam the milk he’d set aside to froth to cut you off from giving a witty remark.

Boyfriend. Peter wasn’t your boyfriend, and he probably wouldn’t ever be your boyfriend. Admitting that to yourself sent a sharp jab at your heartstrings, but the pain was quick. Quick like the blush that fanned your face before you dismissed it. Quick like the pour of cereal into your bowl like the thought didn’t flash through your mind.

The steam wand simmered down, and you made it a point to let out a scoff that he could hear. “He’s not my boyfriend–”

You turned. Like an idiot, you turned, bumping bodies with someone and nearly spilled your entire bowl of cereal across the tiled floors of the kitchen. Wide eyed, you looked up, meeting the familiar stare of your best friend. His arms hovered inches from yours, but the electricity flowing between you felt like that length was much shorter. The scent of his cologne filled the room so quick, you nearly forgot how to breathe.

Peter tried to laugh off how tense the room felt, feeling safe enough to once he knew you were okay. “Who’s not your boyfriend?” He asked, the chuckle weaving through his words, sending a pink glisten to your cheeks.

You could feel the smile Sam pressed to the lip of his mug, slurping his latte as he eyed the two of you. “I’ll give you guys the room.” With that, he left, still leaving the kitchen with just as thick of tension. It felt like he left a gigantic elephant in the room, one that had never existed to them until Sam pointed it out. He pointed it out all because you passed out on Peter’s shoulder.

Shaky fingers set the bowl of cookie crisps on the kitchen island before you walked to the fridge for some milk. Your eyes stayed glued to your task, almost like you were trying to avoid eye contact with Peter for some weird reason. How odd.

“Boyfriend?” You pressed air through your closed lips, blowing a dismissive rasberry. “I didn’t say boyfriend, I said Boygenius–” It was a solid cover up, for sure; you thought, pouring milk over your cereal. “They’re performing this weekend with Clairo–”

Peter pressed his palm into the kitchen island, leaning against the structure right beside you. The body heat from him radiated into yours from your close proximity, reeling you in with how intoxicating his presence was. “Y/N, are you hiding something from me?” He faked an offended expression, mouth agape from his act of shock.

That’s when your eyes met. And you swore that the connection of your vision sent him every thought that ran through your head. Every feeling that coursed through your veins telepathically traveled through his too. It was a second, just one second, where you felt like he shared the same conflicting feelings you did. Perhaps he felt the same attraction towards you that you felt for him.

It didn’t help that he stared down at you with such earnesty and attentive nature. His eyes glossed over every inch of your face, studying your expression like he’d find the answer to his question there. You knew the exact moment that he found it, too.

Shit.

You picked up your bowl of cereal, stiffening your posture as you took careful steps backwards. “Nope! Nothing. I’m not hiding anything!” You sounded as suspicious as ever, so your escape route needed to be hasty. You opened and closed the fridge with just enough time to throw the milk in before rushing off to your bedroom.

This wasn’t the first time you’d gotten these intrusive–romantic thoughts about Peter Parker, or when you’d gotten these frantic–giddy jitters around him, either. Typically, you just let them die out over a day or two and then you could find your little pocket of comfort and normalcy again.

But the second you entered your room, you saw the framed photo of what you assumed was the photo Sam took of you and Peter passed out on the couch. The second you saw it, you knew this wouldn’t die out as quickly as you’d hoped. You couldn’t lie, though…It was a pretty cute photo. Although, you didn’t have too much time to dwell on the captured moment. The neon–pink sticky note on the top right corner caught your attention.

‘I better get invited to the wedding, —Sam.’

Shit.

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fanaticsnail · 7 months

Text

Run Away With Me

Woah, boy! Longest one-shot to date right here. Loved writing it, I hope you enjoy reading it.

Word Count: 9,388

Warnings: injury, angst, fluff, romance, dark thoughts, crying, barely proof-read, mentions of prior relationship and entanglement with another person (no smut). First time writing for Luffy.

Song suggestions are here (primary song I was repeating on a loop), and here (because I wanted to feel more pain). Masterlist here.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you gathered your skirts, sprinting with iron-willed determination towards the docks. Propelled by sheer rage, grief and adrenaline; you continued to sob through your staggered breaths. You heeded no mind to the jagged edges of rocks and stone digging harshly into your bare heals and toes, surely leaving them cut and bleeding in your swift stride.

In the distance, the figurehead of the ship continued to disappear along the horizon; eclipsed by the dawning rays of the sun cascading along the surface of the blue water. Your feet picked up the pace, refusing to relinquish your determination to meet your feet against the polished deck of the ship; holding onto your fruitless dream as the ship continued to flee from your sights.

“Never fall in love with a marine,” you heard echo throughout your mind, “a sailor, nor a pirate. Sea-travelled men will always leave, and you will be alone to bare your shame.”

Another sob fell from your lips as you continued to hold your sights onto the pale white flag of the ship, the logo of the marines waving tauntingly towards you at its retreat. Your eyes had dried up from relinquishment of your stock of tears. There was nothing left but fury.

He had left you.

After spending a night together in the strong arms of your marine: beautiful gestures and spindled words of promises of “forever,” he had left you isolated and humiliated; which he assured you he would never do.

Your feet burned against the harsh coarse sand, propelling you further towards the path of the peer. Many ships, fishermen and sailors beginning to set sail themselves; heeding you no mind as you rubbed your eyes with the back of your forearm, taking a moment to catch your breath.

Heart aching, lips quivering and lungs heavily burdened by sharp inhales and exhales; a growl of frustration and rage fled from your lips as you once again picked up your pace against the wooden, ocean-cracked planks beneath your feet. The ocean air was heavily impacted by the scent of the morning breeze, the ocean tide pulling outwards and into the sea, revealing the hardened sand beneath its retreat.

Hardening your resolve, you brushed your body past a man with a straw hat upon his head, shoving him as you propelled your body further down the dock to bring yourself closer towards the vessel that began its strategic withdrawal from your gaze.

Your bare feet stung as they pressed against the waterworn wood of the docks with sand clinging to the open wounds. Your body ached with overexertion but continued to pitifully drive yourself further towards the end of the peer. You had given everything to him. Your mind, your body, your soul; your heart. You were his and he was yours: only for a single night of passion for him to leave you abandoned and ashamed in your scorn.

Propelling with great strides and paying no mind to the end of the wooden dock concluding its path beneath your feet, a final sob escaped from your lips as you halted your sprint; holding your arms in front of you to steady yourself as your toes clung to the end of the peer.

Dropping carelessly to your knees, you continued to hold your unblinking stare on the ship your marine had sailed upon. The blood from your feet began to dry and cling to your skin as the ship became smaller and smaller in the distance, the tears drying within their ducts and shrouding with a welded seal atop them.

“I will never trust a sailing man again,” you uttered to yourself as your legs began to tingle from their extended hold beneath your weight, “never again.”

You placed your right hand against the wooden floor beneath you, shifting your weight atop your palm while wincing in pain at the damage done to your feet; attempting to raise to stand.

“Woah,” a voice exclaimed from beside you, “what happened to you?”

You looked up, the morning sun shining through the small holes in the yellow straw-hat atop a man with dark hair and mischievous, dark eyes. You were immediately taken by the innocence and sincerity in his voice as he raked his eyes over your legs and feet, assessing the damage your lengthy sprint caused to your broken skin.

“The love of a man,” you confessed darkly, a sinister chuckle falling from your lips as you trailed your gaze towards your stinging and blistering feet.

“Must’ve been some man,” he nodded with a downturned smile and bobbing his head to the side with a shrug. He stooped down to your level, offering his hand out as an added support and an introduction; “I’m Monkey D. Luffy.”

“A pleasure, truly,” you said, a sarcastic nod of your head and roll of your eyes accompanying your words. You looked from his large caramel-coloured orbs to his extended hand and apprehensively reached forward to receive his aid to stand to your feet. You winced under the pain of the fresh welts forming; realising truly only now how dishevelled you looked in the moment.

You were wearing only your white lace, sleeping camisole with a layered white skirt you hoisted to cover yourself in your sprint. Your skin lay peppered with lustful, red marks from last night’s romantic tussle within your bedsheets with the marine; your hair blown out and wild and desperate from the sprint towards the peer; your eyes stained with the memory of dried tears.

“Can you stand?” he asked with furrowed brows as he began to aid your ascension, watching you wince.

“Honestly,” you voice strained under the pain, “not really, but what choice do I have?”

He hummed in thought, examining your body momentarily before immediately squatting to bring himself lower to your body; hooking one arm beneath your knees and the other supporting your back, easily hoisting you upwards and cradle you into himself. A startled shriek fell from your lips as the warmth of his body and comfort of his actions welcomed you into himself.

“How’s this?” he asked with a warm, wolfy-grin. Your eyes widened at his movement, gazing into his innocent face in surprise at his well-natured intent.

“This is fine,” you squeaked out through your lips, clenching your teeth tightly shut in surprise.

“Oh, good,” he nodded in reply, turning away from the view of the ocean and beginning to walk with you in his arms towards the town once more. “Hold up,” he stated, feeling the grip of you within his arms and shifting you with a small hop, “can I adjust you a little bit?”

You furrowed your brows and reluctantly nodded your head. As soon as you bobbed your head in affirmation, a wider grin dawned on his face as he threw you into the air; a shriek falling from your lips as he hooked his arms beneath your knees, your body falling to land against his back as he caught you. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around the front of his neck and clung to the shoulders of his brass-buttoned shirt, hooking your knees over his waist and falling your ankles to his back.

“That’s better,” he commented with a laugh, beginning a brisk pace towards the heart of town. He effortlessly walked with you clutched tightly against the back of his red waistcoat, as he walked over the peer towards the dunes of the beachfront.

“Hey back there,” he called over his shoulder to you, prompting you to look at his cheek and the corner of his eye. “You reckon you could show me where the library is?” he asked you, maintaining his pace into town, “my navigator needs a book and I’m not sure where to start.”

You gleefully laughed at his question, adjusting your arms around his neck to ease his carry of you and gesturing towards the tall, washed sand-stone building to the left of the town.

“You’re in luck,” you smirked into him, placing your chin on his shoulder and your cheek flush against his own beneath the broad brim of the yellow straw hat, “I’m the resident librarian here.”

“You don’t say,” he chuckled warmly, looking at you through his long, dark eyelashes out of the corner of his eye; before turning to follow your extended gesture towards the building.

You hummed against his cheek, enjoying the company and aid he was providing to you on your way back towards your building. You ignored the throb of your feet under the pain and the burn of your body. Your rage had dwindled to a slow smoulder the longer you spent clutching the back of the man beneath your thighs as he carried you towards home, swinging your ankles with each step he took towards the building.

As you approached the large wooden door, Luffy stooped his back down to allow you to reach forward and use your thumb to pull the large leaver of the brass-hooked nob down and shove the door open. You couldn’t help the laugh falling from your lips as he continued to chaperone you on his back through the doors to your library.

“You can just set me down now,” you smiled at him, gesturing to a small desk and chair at the foyer of the large room, “and if you could please make sure the sign is flipped over to read ‘closed’, I would really appreciate it.”

Luffy walked you over to the foyer, opting to sit you down atop the tall desk rather than the chair; unhooking his arms from behind your legs and stalking back towards the door and looking at the sign. You sighed in relief of his relinquishment of his hold of your body; instinctively reaching towards your feet to assess the damage of the heels of your feet and the spirited wounds clutching to your ankles with your fingers.

“Yeah, that looks pretty bad,” the man who carried you to your home spoke suddenly. You realised his close proximity to you as you tore your gaze away from your wounded feet towards his awaiting eyes. You sighed, tucking your hair behind your ear as you readjusted yourself under your skirts, brushing the dried sands away from your feet.

“Nothing compared to the number he did on my heart,” you chuckled darkly, hooking your right knee over your left and lacing your fingertips together expectantly; “you said something about a book your navigator needed. Does that mean you’re a sailor?”

“Something like that,” he confirmed with a nod and a mischievous glint in his eyes, “I’m a pirate.”

“A pirate?” you asked through baited breath, halting at the title he bestowed onto himself. Although the town you were currently residing in was welcoming to all travelling individuals of colour and creed; piracy was still a taboo occupation amongst the townsfolk.

“And one day,” he confirmed, leaning in towards your body, “I will find the One-Piece and be King of the Pirates.”

Your eyes widened at his proclamation before holding an air of surprise over them, absolutely believing it be possible with his hardened resolve and playful attitude.

“And what book did you require?” you asked him, tilting your face up towards him and quirking your left brow upwards in question.

“You know what?” he began, halting his words as he gawked at the sheer number of books located in your library, “I’m not sure. I think it was something to do with translation? Looking for stones? A way to bring us closer to the All-Blue? I dunno-,” he scratched his chin thoughtfully, “-all I know is, it was important.”

Your face dropped, eyes narrowing as you shook your head and tilted your chin downwards.

“Well, while you figure that out,” you sighed, a small smile falling to your face, “do you think you could pour me some water into that bowl over there,” you gestured to the sink, “and bring it over to me with a cloth?”

He followed your gaze, locating a blue and white terracotta ceramic dish in the corner or the room by your sink. He walked over to the dish and began to fill the container to the brim, waddling over towards you with liquid splashing over the edges with each step he took towards you. You creased your brows at him in response, but your smile remained plastered on your face.

“Okay,” Luffy said, placing the dish down beside you atop the bench, “now what?”

“Now, I’m going to wash my feet and assess the damage,” you nodded down to the blistering welts, purple hued bruises and slices of flesh peeled back under your harsh, barefoot sprint, “and you’re going to focus your thoughts on what book you were looking for.”

Looking down towards your bare feet, Luffy winced a little in empathy. His eyes then widened in thought, floating his gaze back up to glance into your face once again.

“Tell you what,” he declared with a joyful expression adorning his cheeks, “if you talk with me about books to help me remember,” he stepped closer towards you, “I’ll fix your feet up for you. Does that sound okay?”

You were taken aback, yet again, at the thoughtfulness of this complete stranger; as he immediately moved to gather your chair and place it in front of you and sat atop it.

“Lay it on me!” he declared with a loud, smiling voice; patting his thigh and gesturing to your right foot. You quirked your brow upwards and hesitantly hooked your right leg over your left knee in front of the hat-adorned pirate in front of you. He firmly gasped your ankle and pulled your foot towards his face. You winced in pain and shrieked again at the action, prompting him to look back up at you again.

“Sorry,” he grit his teeth and softened his eyes up at you. Reaching his hands towards the cloth, he dampened it in the water and began carefully wiping at your skin to remove the dried sand and blood from your foot, ankle and calf.

“Take my mind off it,” you stated through your own clenched jaw, “tell me about the conversation with the navigator, or where you’re journeying to. Might give me a hint on helping you find the book you need.”

He smiled at you, continuing to swipe at your tender flesh of your right foot; checking it over for any serious injury and removing the stains of pain from you.

“I can tell you about my crew if you like?” he smiled down at your foot, focussing his attention on a particularly deep puncture wound on the ball of your foot, “I have Nami, my navigator. She’s really smart,” he removed a piece of stone from your foot, you wincing at it with a small yelp. He again looked up at you, eyes full of sympathy as he rubbed his thumb over the wound to sooth it with his pressure.

“Nami sounds wonderful,” you smiled down at him, quirking your head and softening your eyes.

“Oh, she is,” he confirmed with a broad grin, “and then there’s Zoro. He’s the First Mate, an ex-bounty hunter. Best swordsman I’ve ever known.”

You nodded along, actively listening to the words falling from the man in front of you and imagining what life must look like for him.

“And there’s Usopp,” Luffy tapped your right foot gently to indicate for you to switch your legs over for him to pay equal attention to your left, “he’s our sharp-shooter.”

You unhooked your right leg from atop your left knee and switched over to your left hooking atop your right; smoothing your skirt over your thighs to keep yourself gracefully shrouded from unintentional exposure. He whispered his fingertips over your shin with his right hand while reaching behind your calf with his left to hold it firmly in place.

Breath hitching in your throat, a warm blush rose to your cheeks at his touch. He set to smoothing over your foot, dampening the cloth once more and rinsing your wounded heels and toes with the rag.

“Then there’s Sanji, the chef. He’s amazing at cooking,” Luffy continued, “I especially like the way he prepares pork,” he hummed, eyes glazing over in thought; “I love meat. Meat is my favourite.”

You giggled at his utterance, biting your lip to halt the rise of emotion up into your chest.

“And where do you fit into the crew?” you asked him breathily, “you made no mention of your captain either.”

“That’s because I am the captain,” he tilted his head to look back into your eyes, “and like I said, I will be king of the pirates one day. Gotta start somewhere.”

You gasped at the thought; a pirate captain humbling himself before you and taking care of your wounds after your heart was shattered by a lowly marine cadet. Maybe you had been too hasty in your decision of swearing off travelling men. You shook your head at the thought, softening your gaze down at him as he focussed on cleaning the dried blood from your feet.

“And where are you travelling to, captain?” you asked him softly, watching how carefully he picked at the rocks imbedded in your flesh to rid them from you.

“The Grand Line,” he stated nonchalantly with a shrug. You sighed out sharply with a laugh at him, prompting him to playfully grin up at you.

“You’re really doing it, then?” you asked him, leaning your hands against the desk you were sat atop and shifting your weight onto them, “travelling dangerous waters in search of Gol D. Roger’s One-Piece?”

“Yep,” he confirmed. He hesitated at releasing your foot from his grip, looking down at your feet and tilting his head to the side in deep thought.

“You’d need some knowledge about volcanic activity below sea level and how to navigate the cross,” you nodded before tilting your head back to look at the roof of the library, “probably changes in weather impacting the sails and steering of the ship as you travel. You might also need direction on edible weeds and plants on your journey. Again, lucky for you; I adore reading up on the subject and well versed in-,”

“-Come with me,” Luffy uttered suddenly, holding firm his gaze at your feet, “be my historian. You have everything I’m missing and I want you on my crew.”

You furrowed your brows, snapping your gaze back from its hold on the roof and back towards the stranger in front of you. You gawked at him as he continued: “well, I don’t have a musician or a doctor yet, but I also need a historian,” he shrugged, adding a simple: “be mine.”

You quivered, your eyes flittering between his caramel orbs in awe as he floated his eyes up to join with yours.

“I-I,” you stuttered, unhooking your knees and leaning towards him, “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll run away with me,” he leaned forward with a playful grin, “be my historian, join my crew.”

You shut your eyes tightly in thought, imagining what your life might look like sailing the seas as a pirate; fleeing from the embarrassment from last nights’ overexertion and lustful activities and hiding from baring the brunt of your shame. You breathed out a long exhale, reopening your eyes and jumping slightly in surprise to see the captain standing incredibly close in proximity to you now; his body situated to stand between your knees with a broad smile.

“What do you say?” he asked you, grinning wider in question and leaning in closer.

You searched the sincere eyes of the brunette captain in front of you, finding only sincerity in its wake. He truly meant every word falling charismatically from his lips, persuading you with his genuineness and positivity.

“Who will take care of the books here?” were the only thoughts falling, truly reaching for any reason to remain behind.

“Bring them with you,” he shrugged, “we’ve got room. C’mon, I need you. You’ll love the crew, and they’ll love you.”

He brought his body away from its close proximity to you and began to turn away from you to make his way towards the door.

“We’ll be docked for another day to restock the kitchen,” he opened the door, turning his back once more to you, “we’re leaving the following morning. If you’re coming, let me know tonight at the tavern and I’ll help you bring your stuff.”

He waved, before turning back around and shut the door quietly behind him with a small ‘click’.

Astonishment overcame you in all aspects. You fell your eyes to your cleaned and tidied feet, no longer aching nor stinging from the impact of your hasty sprint towards your marine ex-lover. Your body became overwhelmed with emotions. You had no more tears to flee from your ducts at the thoughts of the military man; the only remnants of your time together were the marks littering your collarbone, neck and chest from his passionate ministrations. He used words to get what he wanted from your body physically, fleeing once you had given yourself willingly to him before you woke.

Now here comes this pirate, no expectations falling onto you a part from a place on his ship and a welcome into his familial crew. He was giving you the ending you so desperately desired from your marine lover; to be whisked away from your town and romantically swept into the horizon aboard a mighty vessel.

The only aspect halting you from readying yourself and your supplies and running into servitude aboard a pirate ship were two things: your feet, legs and body ached under the earlier sprint: damage truly impacting your ability to walk.

The other inhibition is the purpose for your travel. You would move the heavens and the earth to feel true, open and honest love for an individual; the true purpose you clung so tightly to the marine. You desired love: to love and be loved in return. Romanticism clung to you like the scent of baked goods wafting from a baker’s door; filling the fibres of your being with the desire of deep, relentless devotion and adoration.

Luffy offered you no such relentless devotion; friendship and kinship being the only things he truly offered to you. There was no romantic notions of love and affection; just truly alliance through acquaintanceship and comradery. Sucking in a sharp inhale, you jumped down from your place atop the desk and planted your feet against the ground firmly. Expecting more pain in anticipation than you truly felt, you shrugged at the dull pain and began to slowly limp up the spiral staircase towards your sleeping area above the large library.

You looked down at your collection from the balcony; your shop being relatively small in comparison to the great libraries of old; but beautiful none the less. You were unsure whether you would’ve truly left it all behind for the marine, only wanting to reach the peer to demonstrate your absolute fury towards him in front of his commander and servicemen. Were you prepared to leave it for a man who promised you nothing than friendship?

Shaking your head, you looked down at your feet which began to heal over with rapidity. The memory of the way he tenderly held your skin and tentatively brushed his hands over your flesh to care for it overcame you, your heart swelling at the feeling.

With no family to impart their thoughts and wisdom onto you, you rolled your shoulders back and glanced down towards the variety of shelves of your beloved books before a ghost of sorrow fell over your face. You will miss their pages, but the notion of belonging to the seas as they carried you from place to place enchanted you. You will join them, and hopefully romance will find you on your journeys.

Wolfing down plate after plate of smoked brisket, honeyed hams and braised lamb shoulder; Luffy’s brows furrowed in thought of his encounter with the librarian. Zoro’s frown deepened at his Captain’s expression, noting his usual cheeriness was missing from his aura.

“What happened?” Zoro grumbled through his lips, reclining against the wooden chair and raising a brown-stained glass bottle to his lips and taking a swig.

“I mwet uh raidy,” Luffy attempted to relay through a full mouth.

“Try again,” Zoro ordered, eyes rolling at the display the captain was offering him, “swallow your food first.”

Luffy nodded, shutting his eyes with a flutter of eyelashes and wincing at swallowing the large quantity of meat in his mouth, before uttering; “I met a lady.”

“A lady?” Zoro asked, narrowing his eyes at him in question, “what kind of lady?”

“A really smart one,” Luffy nodded, reaching for a large roasted turkey leg with a citrus glaze oozing from the crisped skin, “I want her.”

Usopp choked on his food, spluttering a little at the uninhibited thoughts falling from the lips of his captain without filter.

“In what capacity?” Zoro asked with a quirk of his brow, not acknowledging Usopp’s choked action nor the captain’s unfiltered expression.

“As my historian,” he said, biting into the meat and rolling his eyes back at the flavour, “uhnd ash mai feund.”

“Swallow your food,” Zoro ordered, pausing between each word as he spoke them slowly, “then speak.”

Luffy nodded, waving his hand dismissively in front of his face as he chewed and choked down his food enthusiastically, “as my historian, and as my friend.”

Zoro nodded, taking the glass neck of the bottle and tipping the amber fizzed ale back between his lips and draining the remainder of the contents from within.

“She’s so pretty,” Luffy whispered beneath his breath to himself, “even when she’s sad, she’s pretty.”

“Why was she sad?” the orange-haired navigator said as she took a seat beside Luffy, her plate containing a small portion of crème brulee with fresh berries and whipped cream atop it, “and did you manage to get the book on volcanic plate shifting?”

Luffy turned to her with a small smile, “some marine left her here, I think.”

“Marines are assholes,” Nami confirmed with a nod, sinking a small teaspoon into the bowl, breaking the solidified sugar layer and scooping a portion of the custard-cream beneath it, “and the book?”

“I don’t want the book,” Luffy nodded, turning back to the tray of meat in front of him, “I just want her.”

“And if she doesn’t want to come?” Usopp chimed in, looking at Nami’s dessert longingly, “not everyone dreams of sailing the seas, you know.”

“I don’t know,” Luffy shrugged, reaching for more of the shredded, smoked brisket and spooning a large portion onto his plate with a large ‘slap’, “something tells me she might.”

You had changed into some light travel clothes; choosing to bandage and strap your feet and ankles beneath laced and comfortable shoes to aid in the healing of your cracked and damaged feet. You showered, changed and arranged a cohesive arrangement of clothes over your body to meet with your new captain together with his crew for the first time. Holding every intention of travelling with the assortment of pirates, you decided to meet with them at the tavern to inform them of your intentions of travelling with them as their historian.

Walking down the stone path slowly, wincing a little at a subtle wrong step which aggravated your injured feet; you made it to the tavern and smiled as soon as your gaze fell to the straw-hatted captain sitting at a table with four others; who you assumed were members of his crew. You examined each of them, first starting with Nami; the only woman Luffy made mention of in the prior conversation.

The best part about being a book-smart individual was the ability to remember knowledge at a rapid and ever expanding capacity. Your eyes fell to a sword at the hip of a green-haired, tall man; your mind informing you ‘Zoro’. You travelled your gaze over to the bandana-clad man in front of Luffy, noticing placed beside him on the table was a sling-shot; “Usopp” rolling over in your mind. All that was left was-.

“Hello, beautiful,” a voice called at your side, prompting you to shift your focus to a tall, blonde man with a tailored black suit jacket fastened with brass buckles, a dark tie upon his neck.

“Sir,” you nodded your head at him, a polite smile rising to your face. You travelled your gaze over him, his air of confidence and flirtation rolling off of him in waves. Noticing his proximity to the travelling assortment you were planning on meeting, you determined this was the chef Luffy mentioned earlier.

“I’m S-,” he began, halting only as you spoke over him.

“-Sanji,” you smiled warmly now, reaching out your right hand to meet with his in a friendly welcome, “Luffy told me about you earlier.”

Sanji shook his head, taken slightly aback at your acknowledgement before promptly reaching down and grasping your fingertips within his right hand and rising it to his lips; placing a small kiss atop your knuckles.

“A pleasure,” he said, falling his grip from your hands while mirroring your smile, “unfortunately, I’m yet to join my crew for the evening meal, so I have no context surrounding you. Who might you be, love?”

“Your new historian,” you giggled, falling in a heavily sarcastic curtsey; prompting him to laugh in response, “and the pleasure is mine.”

At the large laughter, Luffy turned around from his seat at the table; his gaze falling to Sanji before floating his dark eyes over to meet with you.

“There she is,” he stated in a low tone, eyes widening before a cheery and triumphant laugh fell from his lips, “I knew she’d join my crew!”

“Where?” Usopp said, turning around and noticing Sanji interacting with you; his eyes equally widening, “she’s beautiful.”

“Right?” Luffy stated more in confirmation rather than question, turning back to Zoro, “isn’t she pretty?”

Zoro raked his eyes over your body, assessing the threat of you joining amongst the crew and noticing below your collar, red marks peppering your neck above your pulse and trailing down towards your clavicle. Nami noticed Zoro’s fixation and turned to acknowledge the interaction falling between you and Sanji.

“She’s stunning,” Nami said with a nod, “and you said she’s the librarian here?”

“Uh-huh,” Luffy nodded his head broadly, “she’s got so many books at her place, huge collection.”

“What were you doing at her place?” Zoro asked a little too quickly, his eyes falling from the red marks on your neck back to focus on the captain in front of him.

“Her feet were all cut up from running to catch the marine ship,” Luffy nodded again, reaching forward to take another glazed turkey leg into his hands and raise it up to his lips, “so I carried her back home and took care of her.”

Zoro hummed, turning his sights to the empty beer bottle in his hands and looking at the bar, “I’m gonna get another drink,” he declared, rising to his feet with a small grunt, “be back in a minute.”

“Sure thing,” Luffy said with a large toothy grin, “can you get me a juice while you’re up there?”

Zoro sighed, nodding in confirmation before turning away to walk towards the bar.

Sanji escorted you with his hand hovering at the small of your back, steadying you in your wincing hobble towards the table with the Straw-Hat pirate crew; sans swordsman.

“Hello Captain,” you nodded shyly, prompting Luffy to turn to face you; immediately rising to his feet at your approach.

“Hello historian!” he declared, placing his hands atop your shoulders and pulling you into a warm embrace, “I’m so glad you decided to run away with me.”

A warm blush rose itself to your cheeks at his unbridled declaration. You apprehensively placed your arms around his back, arching them up to cradle his shoulders beneath his circular grip. He sighed as he held you close to him, overjoyed at your acceptance of his offer.

“Meet the crew,” he whispered in a low hum into your cheek, slowly releasing you from his embrace, “this is-.”

“Nami,” you nodded to the orange-haired woman, “the navigator who wanted a book, I’m only assuming here, was about pressure plates on the ocean floor and volcanic activity close to the grand line?”

“Yes on both accounts,” Nami smiled, watching attentively as you reached into your satchel and retrieved a large journal for her.

“Then this little baby,” you began, reaching out your hand containing the book, “is specifically for you. Enjoy charting!”

Nami sighed a large release of air from within her chest, “finally, competency and intelligence. I am so glad you’re coming with us.”

“Me too, believe me,” you giggled before noticing the captain still remained one arm around your shoulders as he turned you to meet with Usopp.

“Usopp the sharp-shooter, I presume,” you smiled at him with a polite nod.

“That I am,” he grinned widely, basking in his acknowledgement and title.

“You really pay attention to everything, don’t you?” Luffy gawked at you in awe, before lowering his voice; praising you with, “so smart.”

The blush returned and held itself firm against your cheeks, nose and upper ears.

“All we’re missing now is-,” Luffy began, cut off by a cup being placed in his available hand by the green-haired swordsman, “-ah! Zoro! This is our historian.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” you politely nodded your head towards him.

“Pleasure’s mine,” he nodded in return to you and rose the brown bottle of liquid to his lips and took a quick swig of the liquid contents within.

“You hungry?” Luffy offered, unhooking his arm from your shoulders and reaching for a chair to pull out for you, “have some meat.”

You giggled before wincing as you shifted your weight uncomfortably atop one of the painful cut on your right foot, a hand immediately reaching up to catch yours to usher you to sit.

“I got you,” Luffy grinned at you, helping you to sit atop the wooden stool against the table, “just sit down and meet the crew. You’re family now!” he grinned widely and took a seat directly next to you, piling meat onto both his and your plate and began consuming it passionately.

Sanji noticed the dynamic immediately falling between you, arching his brow upwards towards Nami; who mirrored a similar expression on her face at the interaction. Whether Luffy noticed or not, he was absolutely smitten with you, and you looked similarly cursed with infatuation towards him.

Over the following few months, your feet had healed of their afflictions and the marks on your skin from the passionate encounter with the marine cadet had all but faded into a distant memory.

Although apprehensive to leave all of your beloved, aged books behind; the mayor of the town appointed an apprentice librarian to overtake your duties under the promise that it would always first and foremost be home to you should you desire your return. You managed to pack all of the necessities and a small collection of your favourite romance novels, and useful travelling information for your navigator alongside botany and herbal remedies for the chef.

You enjoyed sitting above the deck after completing chores and ships maintenance duties, reading whatever you so desired under the rays of the afternoon sun; basking in the warmth and truly relishing in the waves clashing against the hull. Although it took a few days to adjust to the sway of the ocean, you managed to make yourself comfortable enough to sleep atop a hanging bed within your crew quarters.

One thing you still remained missing in this sea-bearing adventure was the romance you so desired. You noticed first Sanji and how flirtatious he truly was, the first who you viewed as potential suitor; but you shot down the thought immediately as it crossed over your mind, his presence and demeanour reminding you too much of the marine who swindled a night from you.

Zoro was the next on your list, but you found his aura much too intimidating and harsh in his exterior. Although he eventually did warm to you, he felt like an older brother who perpetually looked out for you and the remainder of the crew as the loyal knight; a quality that you absolutely enjoyed.

Usopp was another story entirely. He spoke so highly of his first love, a noblewoman by the name of Kaya at Syrup-Village. He remained completely taken with her, relaying tales of his encounters with gusto. The tales were what smothered the developing feelings within your chest; lying was not a quality you particularly enjoyed, especially after the tussle with the marine.

Nami was a wonderful option to you, but she immediately made it clear to all around her that she was absolutely happy to flirt a little here and there; but never take it further than just that. You enjoyed flirtations, sure; but romance was what you were truly after.

After your assessments made of your entire crew, you began to apprehensively release your dream of romance on the high seas and attempt to find a new dream to cling to.

“I have another one for you!” your captain declared to you gleefully, waving a book in the air. You smiled, turning towards him and placing your novel on the wooden bench beside you.

You had been at sea for the past week and desperately required a layover to replenish your kitchen supplies. Each time you would dock at a new port, Luffy would bring you a book to add to your collection. Every book he brought you was completely different than the other; some were romance, some were collection guides to precious metals and mineral stones, some were even children’s books.

“Thank you, Luffy,” you beamed at him, rising to your feet and approaching him and the new book he had brought to you, “what is it this time?”

“I’m not really sure,” Luffy nodded with a downturned smile, “but Sanji said it was a good one for you. The pictures look nice?”

You nodded at him, looking into his wide caramel orbs with appreciation and adoration, before turning your attention to the book within his hands and immediately shrieked in complete shock. You were unsure how both the colour could drain from someone’s face but a warm, heated blush could also rise: yet here you were; a place somewhere between bewilderment, embarrassment and complete shock at the object he had brought to you.

When the small gifts started, it was almost apparent that Luffy was not completely illiterate; just blissfully ignorant of a few things, particularly when it came to the way he acted around you. He was beautiful, his soul was sincere and his expression was without inhibitions or restraint. You always knew exactly how he was feeling, him always approaching you if he needed clarification on a subject he wasn’t well versed in.

He would always find a way to touch you, reassuring both you and himself. Whether it be: under a gentle brush of your shoulder, taking your hand within the crook of his elbow to lead you around town, steadying your hips above the deck under particularly choppy waves, taking you by the hand and bringing you over to the mast of the ship if he saw a creature jumping above the sea to greet you. His touch was a comfort to both of you, and very welcomed in its receival.

You would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t harbour feelings of romantic notions for your captain, but under his ignorance on the subject; you chose to not pursue engaging in anything more than comradery.

And now, he has brought you a graphic guide on intimate entanglements from the North, East, South and West Blues with accompanying pictures beside their written descriptors.

“A-and you said,” you stuttered, trying to collect your thoughts, “you s-said Sanji picked this out?”

“Yeah,” he nodded with a large grin, “although, I do like some of the pictures.”

Your eyes continued to get wider at the notion that he’s looked at the explicit material within the pages; “Luffy, this is-,” you caught yourself, attempting to choose the next words as carefully as you could, “vastly different than anything you’ve brought to me so far. The last one was a children’s story about a small mouse, and now-,” you inhaled, bringing your hands together in a palm to palm clap and raising your fingertips to your nose and the crease in your brow, “-you’ve brought me an in depth guide to intimate relations.”

Luffy quirked his head to the side, with a small “Hah,” sound. He turned the book to the side and furrowed his brows in thought, “I thought it was some kind of wrestling.”

“It is in some cases, Captain,” you sighed out a shaken, slow breath and rolled your shoulders back.

“You don’t say,” he said thoughtfully, bringing his free hand to his chin and scratching it deep in thought before asking suddenly, “so, you don’t want it?”

“I never said that,” you said all to quickly for your liking, shocking both yourself and Luffy, “I’m happy to add it to my ever growing collection of gifts from you, sir.”

“Oh, okay then!” he said, thrusting the book into your arms. You lifted your shaking hands up towards the book and clasped it gently within your fingertips; Luffy’s hand meeting with your two in the process.

“Thank you, captain,” you smiled through gritted teeth, still caught in your fluster while your captain remained delightfully ill-informed to his most recent gift’s implications.

“You’re welcome, historian,” he smiled warmly before turning back on his heal and walked away.

The first time that he kissed you, you were unsure if it was intentional or truly accidental.

You were walking along the coastal shore back towards the Going Merry, his arm hanging around your shoulders, while yours clasped lowly around his hip. He was relaying a small memory of his childhood, a man named Red-Haired Shanks often spoken amongst the happier memories. You giggled at one comment, Luffy puffing up his chest in perfect imitation of one of the members of the Red-Hair Pirate crew.

At the conclusion of your melodical laugh, Luffy arched his face into yours and pressed his lips affectionately against the apple of your cheek, uttering compliments of; “you have a great laugh.”

Your face drew into a beet-red colour as Luffy continued to chaperone you along the sandy shore. You couldn’t ignore the rapid pace of your chest, your heat beating irregularly in rhythm and a small tingle ran up your spine and coursed through your chest.

“Okay,” he declared gleefully, “now we’ve got the Red-Hair Pirate stories out of the way, let me tell you about Buggy the Clown.”

“Yes, Captain,” you replied shyly, holding firmer against his waist as he relayed memory about a blue-haired pirate captain who also happened to have similar Devil-Fruit abilities to Luffy.

After that first small taste of affection offered freely from your captain, you began to actively seek it out from him to test whether he did harbour romantic intention toward you or whether it was truly a hoax. You quickly found that, alongside his other need to feel you beneath his fingertips, that his lips also required your skin beneath them.

Cheeks, hands, shoulders, temple, forehead; everything apart from the one place you truly desired was met by the lips of your captain. It seemed he wished to remain platonic in friendship; which was slowly driving you to the brink of insanity. You were smitten, completely overtaken by the thoughts of romanticism with the Devil-Fruit user; yet not readily approaching him with the same manner of unbridled affection as he had been over the past few days. The way you decided to show him affection was to be a willing recipient to receive all of his needs and requirements to fill his cup of his need of physical touch and quality time.

This particular evening, he was reclining against you, laying his straw-hat covered head in your lap as you read one of your novels. He appeared to be resting his eyes, a small snore would fall from his lips every now and again, to which you responded with a small teetered giggle and absent-mindedly rested your hand upon his chest and soothed over the skin beneath it.

As you completed the final chapter in your novel, you closed the book and sighed in contentment; fantasising about meeting a romance such as the one you were just engaging with. You were wrong to seek out a marine: that was stupidity manifest on your part. Of course he was going to leave you, sailors always do. Pirates, however? None had yet betrayed your trust as much as the cadet had with empty promises of romance.

You groaned and brought your fingertips to your brow, smoothing over the headache in an effort to rid your subconscious of all memory of him. Your bleeding, hopelessly romantic heart yearned for that closeness; to feel it truly and deeply – that love you so craved and was met by complete emptiness: lust being the only mutual feeling shared between you and the military trainee.

“You okay?” Luffy asked you, peeking up at you through one of his eyes.

“Of course Captain,” you smiled at him, eyes always soft for him behind the melancholy you were feeling. He noticed the shift in your tone and sat up immediately, turning to face you with his legs crossed.

“You finished your book? Is that why you’re sad?” he asked you, his brows furrowing in the middle of his forehead while his beautiful brown eyes deeply searched yours beneath his long onyx eyelashes. You sighed and shook your head with a smile, “no captain, I’m not sad.”

“You’re not a good liar,” he said with a small smile, turning his eyes towards the wood below you, “you should save that for Usopp, although he’s not very good at it either.”

You chuckled lightly at that comment, Luffy instinctively seeking out your hands to grasp within his own as he continued to hold his gaze to the ground. His thumb circled over the skin on the back of your hand, carefully ghosting his digits along each of your knuckles slowly.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked you, quirking his head up slightly to look shyly up at you, “my ears are yours.”

You sighed with an overburdened breath, feeling the weight release itself from your shoulders as you began to formulate the words within your mind.

“When you found me, I was at my lowest,” you confessed, “I don’t think I truly told you, or anyone, about what happened that night.”

Luffy chose not to speak, just nod in curiosity at you while you continued to relay your thoughts.

“Your dream is to be King of the Pirates,” you allowed yourself to freely express the words from within your chest, “and mine is just to love,” you nodded along in your confession, “and to be loved in return.”

Luffy circled your knuckles with the pads of his thumbs and inched himself closer to you, knees brushing against each other’s in the process of his closer proximity.

“I was looking for it, actively searching for it the way that we are searching for the One-Piece for you,” you continued, tightening your grasp around his fingertips as he held you within his own, “and when I fell for him,” you grit your teeth, “I thought I had found it. He was my knight, my rescuer,” your lips quivered at the thought, again opening your rage you hadn’t dealt with since the beginning of your quest.

“He was meant to be my love, Luffy,” you confessed darkly, “but he was just a channel for my lust, a syphon of my happiness, and nothing but an arrow to my heart.”

Luffy released your right hand from his left, hooking his right thumb to encase all eight of your extended digits within his firm grasp; falling his left hand to rest against your knee to further comfort you as you expressed your sorrow.

“I-I just,” you continued, fighting the pit forming actively within your throat, “I want it so badly, Luffy. When I think about it, I can’t breathe; I can’t speak. I want nothing more than to give my heart and have it cherished and to love passionately with every fibre of my being.”

You were searching all around with your eyes, avoiding meeting his gaze at all costs; truly relishing in the company he was providing to you, actively listening and hanging onto every utterance and confession that fell freely from your lips.

“And when I tried it with him,” your voice hitched within your throat, halting your thoughts. You gulped down the dryness in your mouth and continued to formulate the words, “I felt truly broken. There was nothing there, only emptiness and suffering.”

“What happened that night?” he asked you, quietly prompting you to speak the words you were trying desperately to avoid, “please. Please tell me.”

You released a stifled growl of anger, directed not at your captain but at the memory of the cadet, “I don’t particularly want to spell it out for you.”

Luffy rose himself to his knees, kneeling over you while removing the hand on your knee upwards to cradle your face beneath his warm palm.

“I don’t care,” he uttered darkly, “you need to tell me, and I’m waiting to hear it.”

“It was lust, Luffy,” you growled, still avoiding his gaze but welcoming his palm against your cheek with a small lean of your cheek against it, “lust disguised as love. Disguised as the beauty and purity of a lily, but truly the monster lurking beneath it ready to strike and devour in its wake.”

“And how did the monster strike you?” he asked, moving his palm down to your chin and rising your eyes up to meet his.

“It stole my dream from me,” you whispered against his flesh, “and left me blistered, bleeding and broken; all alone in the world with skin peppered with yearning marks openly displaying my shame.”

“I’ll tear it apart,” he uttered darkly, his eyes holding true to that promise, “I’ll help you reignite your dream.”

You felt the corners of your eyes begin to prick with the first tears you hadn’t felt overwhelm you since welding them shut all of those months ago. This was your captain, holding your body close to his and promising you with complete sincerity and truthfulness that he was going to help you achieve your dreams as you were searching to achieve his.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered bringing his face closer to your own, “I-,” he halted his words as they formed in his throat, “-I want to help you.”

You creased your brows in confusion at his statement, as he had already declared to you that he was actively going to help you achieve your grand, romantic dream of finding your greatest love.

“I don’t under-,” you began, halting your words as his lips were brought down to meet with your own. Your eyes were wide as you felt the gentle caress of his lips atop your own, his hand smoothing itself over your cheek and begin to lace within your hairline over your ear. Both of you were as shocked as the other, him immediately tearing his lips away from yours and pulling back from your embrace and close proximity.

“I’m sorry,” he said, eyes wide with concern, “I don’t know why I did that.”

“Captain,” you addressed him in a whisper, your eyes now releasing a small trail of emotion from the corners of your eyes. He brought his eyes back to meet with your own, floating his gaze between your irises and looking down to your lips once more.

“I want to be that,” he said, bringing his body closer to yours once more, “I want to be that for you.”

“Luffy,” you whispered again, your bottom lip quivering as your heart began to swell with emotion.

“From when you first touched me on the dock,” his smile returned to his face, “you bumped into me, you know.”

You shook your head with a small smile clinging to your lips once more, reaching your hands out to seek out his own.

“You bumped me when you ran towards the end of the peer,” he nodded, taking your hands within his once more, “and you tickled my interest. Your ferocity, your beauty. I wanted that.”

You giggled sorrowfully, looking down to the wooden deck. Luffy chased your gaze by lowering his head to be within your sights; a small laugh fleeing from both of you as he did so.

“Can we do that?” he asked, nudging your chin upwards with the top of his hair before pressing a small kiss against your nose, “can I love you?”

“I don’t know what to say,” your earlier words repeating from your lips, the memory of him asking you to join his crew eclipsing over your mind and memory.

“Say you’ll run away with me,” he whispered lovingly to you, echoing his words back to you with a wide intimate smile made just for you, “I’ll never let you go.”

Sucking in a final breath of determination and becoming overwhelmed with emotions, you propelled yourself forward into his arms; releasing his hands from within your own and lacing them around his neck. The sheer force of your jump pushed his body back and had you falling into him.

The knocking clumsily of teeth within the overwhelming joy of your embrace was the happiest you truly felt. Your heart swelled as your captain circled his arms not only around your back, but elasticising themselves to constrict your bodies together; lacing around his own back, wrapping around yours in the process. You squealed in delight as he held you closer, your smiles prohibiting you both from deepening the kiss further but enjoying the feeling of nearness all together.

Hoisting you into the air, he rose to his feet and spun you gleefully in a circle, continuing to press his lips firmly against your own in a passionate embrace. He placed you down carefully on the ground once more; unwrapping his tightly bound, elastic arms from your body as you trailed your fingertips beneath his straw hat and clutched at the curls at the nape of his neck. He groaned against your lips at the feeling of you massaging his scalp and pressed further kisses feverishly against your mouth.

He trailed his mouth over your cheek, down to your jaw and looped his arms around your waist, pulling you to rest flush against his stomach and chest as you accidentally knocked the straw hat from his head. The drawstring successfully held his hat dangling firmly from his neck and down between his shoulder blades, prompting another laugh to escape your lips.

Grabbing a hold of his cheeks and relinquishing his assault against your neck, you brought his face once more up towards you and trailed a warm and welcoming caress of your lips against his own. His brows furrowed at the intensity, choosing to suck in a sharp inhale of breath through his nose as he motionlessly held you against himself; choosing to feel every emotion rolling from you onto him.

Breaking from the kiss, you both gazed through half-lidded eyes at each other; true adoration and love being completely shared between the two of you.

“How’s this?” he asked you, pressing his forehead against your own and closing his eyes once more as he felt your breath and heartbeat echoing his own.

“This,” you began, closing your own eyes and feeling his love and adoration falling from him in waves, “is fine.”

“Oh, good,” he whispered, removing his forehead from your own and replacing it with a gentle kiss, “now let’s get something to eat. I’m starving.”

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