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#let’s not ship them though pls
natalinova · 1 year
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the WHOLE POINT of midge and susie is that THEIR FRIENDSHIP was the biggest love in both of their lives NOT a romantic relationship
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pls pls heard me out...FIDDLESTAN! <3
ok, i got this ask ten days ago, and I've been thinking about it ever since. Because I got two other asks asking for fiddauthor, and I dON'T KNOW HOW TO LET THEM DOWN LIGHTLY BECAUSE I'M A FIDDLESTAN BITCH THROUGH AND THROUGH 😭😭😭😭 I LOVE THEM SO MUCH!!!!!!
Don't get me wrong, fiddauthor is great and makes sense and everything. But listen. Billford and fiddauthor are multidimensional ships, they are good! But FIDDLESTAN!?!? that shit is the WHAT-THE-HECK-A-HEDRON!!!!!!! Even though it's literally 100% speculation, the implications are FUCKING CRAZY!!!!!!!!! I jumped between three ships so far during this gravity falls thing, each time thinking one is better than the other. I've decided that FIDDLESTAN IS KING!!!!!! I'm sorry. I could rant about them forever. I've been listening to nothing but extended versions of disco music for the past week. (YES THEY HAD A CRAZY ROMANTIC FLING IN VEGAS NO I WILL NOT ELABORATE!!!! (yes i will. I will elaborate at some point. it will be like ten pages or text. or I will draw it. idk.))
Here is a sketchbook doodle from like a week ago. I'm gonna post another fiddlestan thing in a few moments, but my style changes like I'm a completely different artist every week without warning, so I'm gonna leave this by itself!
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He comes into YOUR house, he steals YOUR identity, and he fucks YOUR research partner!!! Fuck you!!!!!!!!!!
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0097linersb · 2 months
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Sour Candy (m)
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Pairings: Mingi x Reader
Genre: Smut
Word count: 5k~
Warnings: Very very very needy Mingi, wouldn't say exactly sub!mingi but kind of sub!mingi u know, good boi´s just very desperate. consent lines are kind of blurred in this one so pls skip if it makes u uncomfortable, this was just written in like an hour with absolutely no thoughts or grammar-checking, head empty only filled with crying whiny men <3
Follow me on twitter: wooyosgfreal <3
────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────
“What time did Yunho say he was coming back again?” You asked for about the fourth time that afternoon. 
“In like an hour or two,” Mingi answered patiently like he did all the other times you asked before. “Bro, why do you hate me?” 
“Because you keep making me play this boring game and it really fucking sucks.” 
“That´s just because you´re bad at it.” 
“You´re literally worse than me.” 
“Maybe modernity was wrong all along, maybe women really shouldn´t be allowed to have opinions.” 
“It is a fact, not an opinion. Maybe you men should still be in planes being shipped off to war and leave us alone.” 
“Fine. Do you want to play something else, princess?” 
“Let´s play Overcooked,” You squealed.  
Mingi didn´t even groan this time when you mentioned the game you and Seonghwa were obsessing over lately, simply going back to the home screen on Yunho´s Playstation and looking for the colorful icon. He knew there was no arguing with you. 
While the game was loading, Mingi handed you the main controller and stood up, fixing his shirt that had scrunched up and stretching his back, “Set everything up, I´m gonna go find some snacks.” 
You happily did as told, driving your little animated truck towards the level you had last failed at and playing with your phone to wait for your friend, at least until your vision was blocked by said friend pushing a red plastic bag in front of your face. 
“What´s that?” You asked, already reaching into the bag and picking up one of the soft candies inside. 
Mingi simply shrugged, already chewing on one of the jellies, “Dunno, found them in the kitchen. They´re pretty good though.” 
You trusted his words, popping the candy into your mouth and waiting for the flavors to kick in - and hell you wish you didn´t. 
“Oh my god this is disgusting,” Your face contorts in distaste. 
“It´s cinnamon,” Mingi stares you down, clearly not amused.  
“Yeah, with candle wax. Ew.” 
“Just swallow it and stop being a baby.” 
“I will literally kill myself.” 
He gave you another judgmental glare and sat down next to you on the couch once again, already reaching for his third candy from hell as you forced yourself to let it slide down your throat. You handed him the main remote and picked up the secondary one, coughing to see if flowing some air into your lungs would get the taste of rotten papaya out of your mouth.  
“Maybe it´s poison that Yunho left out as a trap because you keep stealing his food.” 
“Nah, it was right on top of the counter,” He waved it off, pressing play on the game. 
“My point stands.” 
“Yeah, whatever.” 
“You´re very eloquent today.” 
“You´re very annoying today.” 
“The salmon Mingi, the fucking salmon!!” 
“I´m getting it!” 
“Bro, you gotta throw it!” 
“Fuck. I know, but if I leave the fucking rice is going to burn.” 
“I´m throwing you more rice.” 
“I don´t need it.” 
“Yes, you do. Oh my god.” 
“What I do need are some clean plates.” 
“Oh, yeah. On it.” 
“Why do you like this game?” He groaned, cleaning the sweat from his forehead and reaching for another candy in the bag. “You´re making me stress eat.” 
“Doesn´t it make you feel pumped?”  
“Yeah, pumped to punch the TV.” 
“We have one more minute, we can do it if you stop being dumb.” 
“There are literally two plates on the counter ready to go and you haven´t delivered them yet.” 
“Jeez, done. Can you slice me some tomatoes?” 
“One sec,” He answered, mouth full of yet another candy. 
“It would be faster if you would just stop eating.” 
“We´re not making it anyways, let me enjoy one thing at least.” 
And he was right: a few seconds later the TV screen was filled with the sad numbers displaying how you didn´t reach the minimum score - didn´t even come close to it in fact. 
Mingi let out his frustrations by popping the nth white jelly past his lips and you stared at him in disgust, reaching for the bag to understand what that malevolent creation even was.  
“Huh...” 
“What?” He asked. 
“Hm, I mean, this is all in German or Dutch but I´m pretty sure this word means aphrodisiac.” 
“Come again?” His mouth was hanging open mid chew, unblinking eyes staring at you. 
“Hm, yeah. Wasn´t Yunho´s friend just in Amsterdam? The one with the big smile? Maybe he brought those as a souvenir, since you know, it´s Amsterdam. Like, ‘haha look at this candy that makes you horny´.” 
“Oh, yeah. But it´s like a placebo touristy thing, right?” He laughed nervously. “Like, these won´t actually make me horny, right?” 
“Nah, I don´t think this kind of stuff works. It´s probably just for shit and giggles. Do you feel any different?” 
“I don´t know, my heart is beating faster. I think I´m going to die.” 
“Mingi, relax. Now it´s probably just because you´re nervous.” 
“No, what if there´s some kind of drug in these? I ate almost 10 of them! Oh my god I´m going to die. Am I going to overdose, Y/N? What if I start hallucinating?” 
He was being a bit overdramatic, but he did have genuine concerns. 
“Wait, let me call Yunho.” 
Mingi didn´t even hear you, too busy at his own pity party as he whined and stared at the bag´s labels like he could suddenly speak Dutch.  
“Y/N?” Yunho´s voice filled your ears. 
“Hm, hi. Sorry to bother you at work but we´ve kind of got a situation.” 
“Oh my god, did Mingi break my door playing with the bar? I already told him-” 
“No, nothing like that. Huh, do you know that candy that you left on the kitchen counter?” 
“What? No. What cand- Oh. Oh.” 
“Huh, yeah. So... Mingi found it and ate like 10 of them?” 
“Y/N.” 
“Is that bad? He´s kind of freaking out, he´s afraid there´s like drugs in them or something.” 
“There are some stimulants in them but like, in minor quantities. He won´t die because of it. But bro, bro.” 
“What?” You whined, Yunho´s tone making you anxious. 
“He had 10 of them? San had like 3 and said he was at it for hours.” 
“Oh.” 
“Yeah, oh.” 
“So I guess these do work, huh?” 
“Haven´t tried them, but from what San says it´s some strong shit. Did you take any?” 
“Just like one, tastes like organic trash.” 
“Yeah, good. Let me know how it goes, please just stay out of my bedroom.” 
“Your bedroom? Why would- What are you trying to imply, Jeong Yunho?” 
“Oh shit, client calling. Byeee,” He laughed. “Stupid.” 
As soon as you put your phone away, Mingi stopped talking to himself like a mad man and stared at you with big hopeful eyes. 
“I have good news and bad news.” 
“Am I going to die?” 
“That´s the good news: no, you´re not. No.” 
“And what are the bad news?” 
“Apparently you will get very horny, though.” 
He froze at your words, looking down at his pants, “I don´t feel it, though.” 
“Maybe you won´t, it might be different for everyone,” You shrug, standing up and grabbing your sweater. “All I know is that I am leaving because if it does happen, that´s not a sight I want to be here for.” 
“Please no,” Mingi whined, literally throwing himself on his knees to catch your arm before you could walk away. “Don´t leave me alone here. I just ingested unknown substances, what if my body reacts badly and I actually die? What if I throw up and drown in my own puke here all alone?” 
Once again, over-dramatic but right.  
“Yeah, you´re right,” You sighed. “I would still rather die than see you with a boner so here´s what we´re gonna do: I´m locking myself in Yunho´s room and you can freely roam the apartment and do whatever you want, I´ll check up on you every few minutes. Sounds good?” 
“Yeah, ok,” Mingi agreed. 
“Also, if you´re going to like - ” You motioned vaguely towards his pants hoping he would get what you were trying to say. “Give me a heads up so I can put on some earphones.” 
“Oh my god,” He whined in shame, cheeks going flush. “Yeah, ok.” 
“Ok, good. Huh, bye,” You awkwardly waved as you made your way towards Yunho´s room. “Good luck.” 
You closed the door behind you, hearing as Mingi opened some other game back in the living room. There was not much to do in Yunho´s room so you decided to lay in bed and scroll through Tiktok until Mingi stopped thinking he was going to die and you could leave. Also, you did eat one of the candies too, so you guessed that if they did work, you would feel it as well. 
10 minutes later you still heard Mingi normally playing and cursing outside, but you still decided to yell out an “Everything good?” just to be sure. 
“Yeah!” Was his answer. 
Another 15 minutes went by, and you shot him a text. 
Not dead yet? 
Mings: Still good, I don´t think these things actually work. 
Maybe Yunho was just messing with us.  
Mings: Yeah, fucking asshole. 
You went back to watching your silly little videos, not even noticing the time passing or how everything suddenly went quiet outside. Over half an hour had gone by when your ears finally perked up at the lack of your friend´s loudness.  
You sat up in bed worried. 
You good? 
No answer. 
Mingi? 
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 
You were already picturing his dead body looking all stupid on Yunho´s carpet, thinking about how you were going to explain to the paramedics that he died because he ate too much horny candy.  
No, even worse: How would you explain this to his family? 
Oh, no. Not your best friend. How would you live without him? You liked teasing him and you bickered a lot but you love- 
Your little spiral of insanity was interrupted by a knock on the door and your body was finally able to move after how it had been paralyzed with fear for a few minutes. 
“Mingi?” 
“Yeah.” 
“Oh, thank god. You scared the shit out of me,” You took a deep breath in relief, staring at Yunho´s white door. “What´s up?” 
“Huh, can I come in?” 
You furrowed your eyebrows at his tone.  
Something sounded weird about this.  
“Sure,” You answered skeptically.  
Mingi opened the door and came in, head cast down and gaze not meeting your eyes. 
“What´s wrong-” You started asking worriedly, about to jump out of the bed to go check up on him before your eyes finally zeroed in on the very prominent bulge in his pants. “Song Mingi! What the fuck?” 
“I- I don´t know what to do,” His eyes finally met yours, cheeks tinted in pink and hands trembling. He looked at you like a kicked puppy.  
“And what do I have to do with it? Go deal with it yourself. Eeew, we talked about this,” You raised your hand in the air to try and block the bottom half of Mingi from your line of vision.  
“I already did,” He groaned, rubbing his face in frustration. “Twice.” 
“Oh.” 
“Yeah. Nothing fucking works - and also, I just can´t stop thinking about you.” 
“What?” You never heard your voice go so high before. “Nuh uh, we´re not going there. Absolutely not.” 
“I´m not happy about it either, ok?” His fingers were squeezing the corner of the door so thigh they were almost white. “Just please, help me out this once. Please.” 
Oh. 
Oh. 
Oh. 
You just prayed that the reason you started clenching around nothing was because the candy was finally kicking in and not because stupid Song Mingi was practically begging in front of you. 
“No!” You screeched, weirded out by your own sudden reaction. “This isn´t you talking, it´s just th stupid candy, you´ll regret it after it wears off -” 
“No but I won´t,” He disagreed, closing the door and rushing towards you like a madman in three large strides. 
You had never seen him like this, you never once in a million years could have gone as far as even imagining the look in his eyes right now. 
“Fuck. It´s just - your skin is so soft, you know?” Mingi pushed the covers to the side so his hand could squeeze your thigh, his knees dipping into the mattress as he crawled on top of you. You were too shocked to move away, frozen in place with your mouth open wide, not really knowing what to do as he rubbed the palm of his hands up and down your skin, squeezing it occasionally with a heavy breath like he had just reached heaven´s gate. 
“Mingi,” You warned, but your voice didn´t sound that threatening anymore. 
“Please, just once,” He breathed out, practically rubbing himself against your body like a cat in heat forcing you to slowly lie back in the bed, his hands gently guiding yours over your head as you slid down. You looked up at his glazed eyes, at the way his hands were shaking around your wrists, the way he was discreetly rutting against your thigh without even realizing he was doing it. He looked so vulnerable and frenzied – And it was doing something to you. 
“Mingi,” You whined, not even sure what you were trying to say or do. 
“You kept walking around with this white top all day,” He let out a broken groan, looking down at said top. “Your boobs look amazing in it. I just- I – Can I?” 
His begging eyes were enough to get you automatically nodding before even realizing what you were agreeing to - When you did process what he was asking for though, his right hand was already squeezing your boobs and kneading at them like his life depended on it, his calloused fingers firm on your body. You could feel how hard he was every time he subconsciously ground against you, shaky hot breaths leaving his lips and hitting the sensitive skin on the side of your neck where his plump soft lips kept lightly brushing against with every move. 
Mingi took advantage of the position, sucking against your vein and leaving pleas in the form of little kisses around your skin. His thumb played with your nipple and your hands were still abandoned on top of your head against the sheets, not sure if you would really let this happen yet - but Mingi didn´t seem to mind, too lost in worshipping you into compliance.  
“I need to fuck you. Like, right now. I´ll - I´ll make you feel good too, I promise,” The shakier and breathier his voice sounded the wetter you got. “I promise. I promise. Please. We -we don´t even need to fuck I can – I can – Let me – Just the tip- Anything-” 
“Just the tip?” 
“Yeah,” He eagerly nodded, his eyes so hopeful you could melt. 
“Ok,” You agreed, physically not being able to say no to his pleading eyes.  
“Fuck,” He groaned in surprise, not actually thinking you would agree to it - But since you did, he wasted no time and made quick work of practically ripping your cotton short down your legs in one harsh tug. “Under normal circumstances I would, you know – But, I – right now I – I can´t.” 
“It´s ok,” You assured, afraid he would actually cry if you made him wait another single second with how desperate he was. 
He hooked his finger on the bottom of your panties and pushed them to the side, not even being able to take them out. He stared at your pussy for a moment, his eyes looking even more insane than before at the sight, like he would actually growl at you. 
“Fuck,” Mingi cursed as he went out of the little trance he was in, pushing his sweater pants and boxers down in a rush - once again not even bothering with taking them all out.  
And oh fuck. 
His cock was so hard you could imagine how it actually hurt; it throbbed against the skin of his abdomen without even being touched, looking swollen and angry with all the veins surrounding it - And man were you glad you agreed on just the tip because there was just no way that would fit without a lot of preparation first. Even with how wet you were right now. Who knew? 
Mingi leaned on top of you once again, one arm supporting the weight of his body in between your legs as he gently guided his dick up and down your folds, his eyes closing at the feeling, a violent shiver taking over his thighs and up his spine with a loud groan.  
Like he had absolutely no control over his body, Mingi positioned himself against your entrance, slowly pushing just a little bit in as promised. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” His groans sounded so raw against your ear as he cursed over the initial resistance of your walls, his forehead meeting your neck to try and ground himself. 
You even let a moan out yourself because this was absolute madness, it felt insane. Your whole body was buzzing like you were electrified, your fingers ached to scratch Mingi´s back and pull him all the way in - Damn, those candies were good.  
And you only had one. 
“Y/N, fuck,” Mingi gasped as he started moving his hips in shallow little thrusts so he wouldn´t break your agreement. “Ah - Ah. I can´t think strai - You´re so pretty. Fuck, fuck.” 
His lips met your neck once again, messy kisses full of saliva and teeth as he shuddered on top of you, leaving marks that would soon turn purple. You could feel how tense every single muscle in his body was as he fought against himself to not rut deeper into you every time he moved, and you were biting onto your lip so hard to keep the noises inside that you could taste blood.  
“Thank you, thank you,” You shivered at the way cold air hit your neck when Mingi pulled back a bit to look you in the eye, “Can I go ah- a little deeper, please? Just a little. It feels so good, I need ah- more. Fuck.” 
“Mingi.” 
“Please,” He cried out and you just couldn´t believe the sight in front of you. 
Tall big strong Song Mingi with the deep voice, reduced to a disheveled delirious mess. His ashy blond hair rumpled, his cheeks burning pink and skin glistening with sweat, his pupils huge and shiny and he just looked so disheartened that it was breaking your heart to not let him just use you however he wanted.  
“I need you,” He agonized, his right arm clinging onto your shoulder like you would run away from him if you could, so out of it that he was already pushing deeper into you without even noticing, eyes shut so tightly at the sensation of your walls around him. “Please, please, please, please,” It was like a mantra. 
He was far gone. 
And kind of so were you. 
You whine in pain and raspy moans left Mingi´s soft lips every time he thrust back into you, hitting farther each time, “I´m sorry, baby. I´m sorry. You can take it right? Ah – Just a bit more, I promise. Fuck. I´m almost ah- in. Why do you smell so good? It´s driving me ah – insane.” 
It hurt, it did hurt, but you also didn´t seem to mind that he was practically splitting you open when his voice sounded this pretty apologizing for it. 
The speed and strength of his hips started picking up to match his urgency, his plush lips were open so captivatingly and his weight was now supported by both arms so he could pistol into you. He didn´t have a specific angle or rhythm to it, his moves were strictly instinctual and carnal, your nails finally finding your way down his back to keep yourself anchored to reality. 
“You´re so so so beautiful, fuck. Your lips - can´t stop thinking about them around my ah- cock. Will you show me?”  
You loved how broken his voice sounded. 
“Yeah, baby. Whatever you want.” 
He shuddered once again at your words, “I´m so close.” 
“Me too,” You nodded, still doing your very best to not let noises of pleasure escape past your lips – and kind of failing. 
“Let me hear you,” Mingi growls, managing to somehow snake his hand in between your bodies to start drawing quick circles on your clit. “Please, I love your voice.” 
You wouldn´t be able to hold back even if you wanted to.  
His chaotic rhythm had an appeal of its own, every broken moan that left his mouth drew you closer to the edge until you finally reached it. Your vision went black, nails digging into Mingi´s biceps so harshly you would feel bad for it later, every muscle in your body tightening as it all washed over you in a devastating wave, leaving your body in the form of gasps and breathy moans. 
“Oh my god, fuck,” Mingi cursed at the way your walls were clenching so tightly around him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” 
He wouldn´t slow down and you were still coming down from your high, twitching with the aftershocks as the oversensitivity quickly began to rise, but you decided to ignore it the best you couldand push through it - you could tell Mingi was close anyway with the way his thrusts became even more erratic, and his voice went up with every moan.  
You were mesmerized by his glossy unfocused eyes, the frown on his forehead, so frantic to get what he needed by ramming into you. He looked so pretty like this, you wanted to destroy him-  
Wow. 
Wait. 
Now where did that come from? 
“Shit, I´m gonna- Fuck, fuck.” 
You watched as his whole body froze for a second before violently shaking, his eyes shot so tightly he was probably seeing white as he continued thrusting into you to ride his orgasm to the end as you felt something warm hitting your walls. And his moans, oh his moans – I mean, you were not deaf, you had always been well-aware that Mingi had an attractive voice, but to hear it like this, so raw and relieved, was truly something else. 
Mingi let out one last broken cry as he slowly stopped moving, dropping his weight on top of you to catch his breath, chest heaving up and down against your ribcage as his muscles continued twitching here and there. You took advantage of the moment to get yourself together too, stabilizing your breathing and trying to figure out what the hell just happened as you two went down, but you also kind of expected Mingi to say something or try to joke around a bit to lessen the burden of the fact that the two of you just fucked - and when he didn´t, well, you started getting worried. 
You were mustering up the courage to say something after the two minutes of silence when the last thing you expected to happen, happened.  
Your eyes were blown wide, “Mingi-” 
“I can´t stop, I´m sorry-” He whined, his still rock-solid cock now slowly moving inside of you once again, rutting into you like he had absolutely no control over himself. 
He was still hard? 
Wasn´t this like his third time already? 
His whole body was shaking in overstimulation but he wouldn´t stop grinding into you, “I´m sorry.” 
“Mingi,” You tried pulling away from him thinking that´s what he was asking for. 
“No, don´t. Ah- Need you,” He desperately grabbed onto your thighs and wrapped them around his hips, your chests flushed against each other's as he hid his forehead on your neck to keep fucking deep into you. Literal whines of pain were leaving his lips, it was like he was an animal incapable of rational thoughts, and it was making you feel dizzy. 
“Mingi, love. You´re going to hurt yourself.” 
“No, feels so ah- Just one more,” He moaned, body shuddering. His whines got you clenching involuntarily around him, suddenly realizing you were kind of close to the edge already. “Please.” 
You felt a strong bite on your shoulder disguising a groan, the animalistic act crashed with how smoothly he was sliding in and out of you, but it also showed how deranged he was at the moment. You tightened your thighs around Mingi´s hips and pulled at the hair on his nape, not bothering with trying to cover up your moans anymore. 
Mingi took the action as permission and started gradually moving his hips faster, broken little whines getting louder and more frequent each second until he was once again supported by both his arms and pistoling into you.  
“I can´t - I can´t,” His voice was so shaky, so broken. “I - Please.” 
And then your whole world stopped as you watched the first tear roll down Mingi´s cheek. 
You were mesmerized, you wanted to frame it.  
“It hurts,” He whimpered, another tear falling, followed by another and then another.  
“You´re almost there,” You cooed, deciding to be useful to the poor giant man breaking down on top of you. “Aren´t you? So close.” 
Mingi nodded, blinking harshly to clear his vision which resulted in more tears running down his face. You just couldn´t help supporting your weight onto your elbow so you could lean up and hold his jaw, kissing the salty traces across his cheeks until his face was clean. He immediately started shaking, moans growing whinier and choppier, his thrusts started losing their patterns as he plowed into you like his life depended on it, entering a mental state he never knew existed before. 
His right hand grabbed your thigh with enough force to bruise it badly as he came for what you imagined was the fourth time in an hour, holding you so close that you could feel his cock hitting impossible places deep inside of you. Mingi was breathing so hard you were kind of worried for his well-being but the noises leaving his lips assured you he was feeling pleasure at least as his nose found its place on your neck once again. 
“Feeling better?” You asked once he had calmed down a little. 
“Kind of,” He pushed back to look at you with a low chuckle, his eyes looking a tad bit saner already. “But I also kind of need to eat you out.” 
You felt his dick twitch inside of you at his own words and how the fuck was that even possible? 
A painful whimper left his lips at the slight stimulation, already way past oversensitive, “Please?” 
 He had the nerve to pout. 
2K notes · View notes
arcaneauthor · 2 months
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Skz reacting to you kissing them in front of the other members
Warnings: um some kissing ig? Nothing else really
Tags: established relationships, kissing, so much fluff, seungmin being a little menace like always, I think that’s it
A/n: have this while you wait for my long hyunjin one shot! Also I just started writing skz and don’t fully know how to write their personalities yet so pls be kind🙏
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Chan:
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I kinda feel like this would be a normal thing for y’all?
Like you would frequently come by the studio while skz is recording to visit him
And you’d always end up giving him a little hello and goodbye kiss
It was always just a peck but you’d think you two were full on groping each other by the way the members start gagging and groaning
They honestly should be used to it by now but they just can’t help but tease their dad leader
Mainly seungmin
“Ew you like kissing old men?”
But Chan’s used to it by now and just rolls his eyes and focuses back on his work
But he can’t hide the smile on his face
He kinda likes when the members tease him, it really makes them feel like family
Minho:
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Would definitely turn it into a spectacle
Ik he doesn’t normally like skin ship from the other member that much so many people think he wouldn’t like pda from the reader but I think it’d be quite the opposite
Like I feel like he’d be the type that would grab you and pull you in closer when you try to just give him a peck in the dorm
Like we’re talking turning it into a full on make out session
And he’s fully aware the members are there, that’s partly why he does it
He thinks it’s kinda funny to get a reaction out of them
I feel like there’d be a mix array of both groaning an wolf whistling from the others
Either way he’d just throw a middle finger to the members over his shoulder as he smirks into the kiss
Changbin:
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I actually kinda feel like changbin would be a little embarrassed
Like at first he’d kinda forget the other members are there and kinda get into it
And then when he’d hear the reaction from the members he’d pull away with a little blush on his cheeks
Would have that cute little embarrassed smile that he does as he lowers his head a little as he murmurs a “shut up” to the members
(If you’re a stay I feel like you definitely know which smile I’m talking about)
Would totally never admit to anybody that he was blushing
Like the other members maybe Chan would tease him like “aw binnies embarrassed”
And changbin being his loud self would be like “HUH? YOU THINK ID GET EMBARRASSED OVER SOMETHING LIKE THIS?”
Like my mind immediately went to that men in colorful pants vlive he did with Chan and Han when he was yelling at chan for calling him out on rapping his line too fast and he was like “YOU THINK I RAPPED FAST CAUSE I WAS NERVOUS?” Lol
Just imagine him saying it like that if you’ve seen that live
Jisung:
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This man would be SHOOK
Like I’m talking about pulling away like he’s been BURNED
Quokka cheeks are flaming red
Why do I almost feel like this man would let out a surprised yelp as if you’ve just attacked him lmao
Looks between you and the members with wide eyes like “did that really just happen?”
unlike with the others I feel like the members wouldn’t make teasing comments towards you guys
They’d just be on the floor ROLLING at Han for getting so flustered
And even though you were the cause of it he’d still hide his face behind you to escape his embarrassment
Hyunjin:
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Feel like he wouldn’t get too into the kiss knowing the others are there
But also would definitely lean into you a bit
For some reason I just feel like hyunjin would be an amazing kisser
I mean have you seen those luscious lips??
Anyways that’s a story for another fic lol I’m getting distracted
like Chan I’d feel like he’d get his sassy eye roll going on when the members made a comment
With how much it seems that hyunjin and seungmin play around with each other seungmin would definitely tease the shit out of him
And hyunjin would give him that signature bombastic side eye
I feel like seungmin would keep it going to the point of hyunjin just eventually standing up to literally pounce on him
Seungmin would just be laughing like a maniac the whole time
Felix:
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I actually feel like Felix wouldn’t be as embarrassed as you’d think
Like Ik he’s a smol bean but down deep I feel like Felix is actually pretty confident
Not in a cocky way but like he’s sure of himself yk?
Like I feel like he’d just smile into it
Turns it into a bit of a longer but still soft and sweet kiss
Just completely ignoring the noises from the members in the background
Like I think he’d just be in his own little world with you
After y’all pull away he just pulls you to sit facing forward on his lap and hugs you from behind
Has THE brightest smile on his face as he does it
Seungmin:
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I kinda feel like seungmin wouldn’t like you giving him pda
Not like to the point of getting angry or anything
But I kinda feel like he’d pull an “ew” face lol
(And I don’t mean this as being bad or anything, I myself don’t really love pda so I get it lol)
But you probably do it to just playfully annoy him
Which is why you’d probably be giggling with the members at him
“I hate you guys” but he’d say it with a smile on his face so you knew he wasn’t actually upset about it
He’d probably give you a long kiss later in his room to make up for it
Jeongin:
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He wouldn’t go as far as to immediately yank away like jisung
But he’d definitely be a shy baby
Ik he looks all grown up and stuff these days but I feel like little baby bread is still under there somewhere lol
Like his eyes would widen mid kiss when he really processes that you’re kissing him in front of everyone
The members wouldn’t so much as tease him like with the others as they would moan and groan about seeing their little maknae doing “adult stuff” lol
Poor thing would definitely turn red, covering his face with his hands as he sunk down
Would honestly be wishing the couch would just swallow him up
Probably wouldn’t make eye contact with you for the rest of the night because he’d just start immediately blushing lol
Also would probably keep his distance cause anytime your hands so much as touched the members would tease him about y’all making sure you weren’t “moving too fast”
End notes: well I officially finished this at 5am lmao. Guess I better head to bed🫡
1K notes · View notes
revasserium · 1 year
Note
can i have one were zoro realises she does things bc of truama (like doesnt speak much etc)
hold me (still)
opla!zoro; 6,680 words; slow!!!!burn, fem!reader, ex-assassin!reader, straw hat!reader, general tragic backstory/trauma, fluff, hurt/comfort, bit of angst, emotionally constipated zoro, communication? what's that?, nami playing therapist bc she's the only one with 1 iota of emotional intelligence
summary: sometimes, stillness is a virtue, and others -- a tragedy. or, in which the straw hats pick up a new member and zoro is equally intrigued and weirded out by you.
a/n: well. you guys asked for slow burn and... the burn is so slow u gotta squint to see the smoke yall. but trust. the burn does get there! pls be patient!! and i tried to combine 2 dif reqs in this one fic :)
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You are of the quiet sort. Just a shadow dancing in the periphery of their vision, and when they first met you, you’d told them it was your superpower, a soft, still smile slipping across your lips. Luffy had bought into it immediately, and the invitation was out his mouth before anyone could stop him.
“Come with us!”
“Oh…” your lips pressed into a thin line of consideration.
Zoro’s fingers itched towards his swords because something about you makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. But something else — something uncomfortable and strange, something very much like curiosity — seizes his chest and twists his stomach. Strange, he thinks, too strange.
“C’mon! It’ll be fun!”
And then, you’d smiled wider, and nodded, and that had been that.
It’s been three months since then, and you are still of the quiet sort, though it had receded a bit with time. What with Sanji’s gentle flirting and Usopp’s not-so-gentle stories and Nami’s bright, dry-humored companionship, you’d begun to “open up a bit”, so Luffy observed.
Zoro, for his part, has kept his distance. Because sometimes he still catches you at the bow of the ship, staring out across the midnight waters, still as a stone-carved statue. Still as a wooden beam — stiller, even.
“What’s with that?” he asks one day, strolling up to Nami as she traces a fine line over a new map she’s working on.
“Hm?” is her very eloquent response.
Zoro ticks his tongue against his teeth and casts his eyes about the ship, finding them drawn to the shape of you, up at the bow again, reading in the shade of the tangerine trees. Nothing moves except for the wind as it whisps through your hair and the slow scanning of your eyes as it skates across the page.
“New girl,” Zoro says, crossing his arms as Nami finally looks up at him and then off towards you.
“Why don’t you ask her yourself?”
Zoro lets out a puff of breath, unfolding his arms to glare at Nami. He finds her grinning a lopsided grin as she clicks shut her compass and puts down her pen. She leans a hip on the barrel she’d been drawing on and folds her own arms.
“Oh, you like her.”
“I’m weirded out by her. ‘S not the same thing,” Zoro snaps, but when he tries to leave, Nami blocks him with an arm and pins him with a sharp, leveling look.
“No, no, no — we’re gonna work this through.”
“No thanks, I’m good.”
“Uh-uh, you still owe me after that round of drinks the other night — remember when you bet you could drink more than me?”
Zoro narrows his eyes, “I did drink more than you.”
Nami’s grin is gleeful, “No, you didn’t. You had to be dragged back to your room after clogging up the toilet. Or do I need to show you the evidence —”
“Alright — fuck, fine. But really? This is what you’re gonna waste your favor on? You could’ve asked me to —” Zoro gestures around vaguely, “clean the bilge or something.”
Nami shrugs, looking almost too pleased, “Nope! This is what I wanna use my favor for. And, really, you think a bit of bilge water is gonna gross me out? C’mon.”
Zoro heaves a sigh and leans back against the main mast, closing his eyes.
“Fine then. Go.”
Nami sits back on the edge of the barrel.
“No, you go. Admit that you like the new girl.”
“I don’t.” He doesn’t open his eyes.
“I’ve seen you staring at her. We’ve all seen you staring at her.”
“What, that a crime now?”
Nami fights the urge to roll her eyes, “No, but I’ve never seen you try so hard to avoid someone before.”
Zoro lets out a bark of laughter, hard and mirthless, “Yeah, so that must mean I like her.”
Nami cocks her head, “It means you feel something towards her. And I’d suggest you figure it out.”
“And how’d you propose I do that?”
Nami once again waves in your direction, “Go. Talk. To her.”
Zoro lets out another breath, eyes scanning across the ship, anywhere but towards where you’re still sitting and reading, finger flipping a page in a perfect, smooth, singular motion.
And Zoro’s not blind. Blunt though he may be at times and careless as he is about most material things, he can still appreciate beauty when he sees it. And you — there’s no denying that you’re beautiful. Your strange stillness aside, when you do move, it’s with a dancer’s lissome grace, fluid lines, not a single movement wasted. When you smile, it seems to light you up from the inside, and your words, though soft, carries the well-worn weight of river stones, glittering beneath the clear, spring stream of your voice.
There’s a sharpness in your eyes, a straightness to your spine, a way of carrying yourself as if you’re afraid that one wrong move might shatter you and the entire world around you.
Sometimes when he sees you, he wonders at the hands that had sculpted you this way. He wonders at your life before they’d picked you up in Loguetown, when you’d oh-so-silently slipped up the execution platform and helped Luffy down, all the while staying free of Smoker’s watchful gaze.
The few times he’s seen you fight, he can’t help wondering if you’ve eaten some kind of devil fruit as well. No human could be so fast as that. Or be so quiet. But then again, he’d fought Kuro, and they’d seen stranger things. Still, he marvels at the way you flicker in and out of sight, slipping around the edges of battle like a dark, haunting thing, and men would drop like flies beneath your quick, quiet hands. With nary a sound or shout before their eyes roll back and their breathing is no more.
On the instances when Sanji had asked about your past, your eyes had gone misty and dark, unfocused. You’d gone still, freezing for so long that Usopp would cough just to fill the silence. And then slowly, ever so slowly, you’d turn back towards them with a small, sad smile and say:
“There’s… not much to talk about. I grew up somewhere far away, where if you didn’t keep quiet and still, bad things would happen to you. And then when those bad things happened, if you weren’t quick — the quickest of all, you’d die.”
Bad things, huh? Zoro thinks as he makes his way towards you, a hand resting on the hilt of his swords. He comes to a stop next to you and leans against one of the white planters, casually peering over your shoulder at the book in your hands.
For a long moment, neither of you move. Then, Zoro clears his throat and forces himself to speak.
“Is it good?”
It takes you a second, but eventually, you turn towards him.
“The book? Yeah, I suppose.”
“Not exactly a glowing review.”
You laugh, a soft, breathy little thing as you look back down at the page.
“It's about a girl who falls into an enchanted sleep, and a prince who wakes her up with a kiss.”
“Must’ve been one hell of a kiss.”
“Yes, and one hell of a prince.”
Zoro finds himself chuckling, his shoulders loosening as he takes another breath.
“And then what?” he asks.
“And then… he asks her to marry him.”
You run your fingers along the page, smoothing your palm over the ink and parchment. Zoro watches you, wondering, always wondering.
“What’s she say?” and it’s then that he notices his own voice, hushed and low, barely a whisper.
You look back up at him and smile a smile a sphynx would have been proud of.
“I don’t know. I haven’t gotten there yet.”
Zoro takes a breath, and the breath tastes distinctly different than all the breaths he’d taken before it. As if the world takes the breath with him, and some fundamental truth had shifted on the exhale.
The moment breaks, as moments are wont to do, when Sanji calls out for lunch and Zoro jerks out of his almost-reverie. You slowly close your book and rise to your feet, turning back to smile at him.
“C’mon, it’s lunchtime.”
Zoro nods and follows you into the kitchen, where Luffy and Usopp are already digging in, and Nami is pouring herself a drink. She spots the pair of you and catches Zoro’s eyes. A grin ticks at the edge of her lips but before she can say anything, you’re accosted by Sanji sweeping into a deep, flourishing bow, and ushering you towards the table, where he’d set your place in a manner fit for a princess.
“Where’s my setup?” Zoro asks as he drops into the seat next to you, cocking an eyebrow. Sanji shoots him an unimpressed look.
“I’m surprised you can use a fork and knife, moss-head. Just be grateful and eat up.”
Zoro scoffs but digs in nonetheless.
When next they dock, it’s on a rare, peaceful island — an island of light and books and learning, where the air smells of salt and ink and drying parchment, of unwritten words and untold stories. But it smells of a stillness too, and Zoro knows without having to ask that you’d like it here.
And you do.
He’s never seen you smile so much, never seen you so vibrant and full of life. You chat and laugh and read with a voracious hunger, and he finds himself drawn to this new, warm, moving side of you. He finds himself, more often than not, by your side, even when neither of you speak. And he basks in the comfort of the quiet that permeates the air when it’s just the two of you — him hanging in the hammock on deck, you reading by his side.
But now, there’s the soft tapping of your foot, the shuffle of pages when you flip forward to see what’s coming next, and of course the ever-present shush of the ocean as it washes against the Merry’s side.
The Log Pose needs two weeks to properly calibrate to the next island, so they’ve got time to kill.
On the fifth night, over dinner and drinks, Luffy asks the question that everyone’s been thinking since the day they’d all met you —
“So. Why’re you so still all the time? Not that it’s weird or anything — well, actually — it kind of is, but it doesn’t bother me. I’m just asking cause I'm curious!”
You look up from your half-finished wine but Zoro feels it happening, like the hush of a fan blade slicing through air, the gasp before a porcelain vase tips over and shatters. You stop. You stare. You’re frozen in every sense of the word. And he’s known you for long enough to know that you only go still as a reflex, only reach for it as a shield. Against what? He doesn’t quite know.
“It’s… something of a long story,” you say, your voice low and hoarse.
Luffy grins, smacking his lips as he sucks the meat off a chicken leg, “We’ve got tons of time! Right?” he looks around as if for validation, but everyone’s eyes are caught on you and your unnatural stillness.
Zoro shifts slightly in the seat next to you, opening his stance and turning towards you.
“Could do with a good story.”
Your eyes flash in his direction and he offers you the barest hint of a smile.
You relax, ever so slightly, drifting back in your seat, your glass cupped in the palms of your hands. And then, you begin to speak, your voice smooth and lilting, your words washing over them like the faint lull of the tides.
“When I was three, my father sold me for a barrel of beer.”
A dull clack echoes around the room and everyone turns to see Sanji hurriedly righting the thick stein he’s knocked over. Thankfully, it’d been empty.
“Sorry — I just — what?” he sounds furious but Usopp lays a hand across his arm and shakes his head.
You take a deep breath and continue, your voice oddly emotionless as you say, “The man who bought me took me to an island. It was… a dark place. A quiet place. I only learned its name after I escaped — an island called Elysium.”
Nami gasps before clapping her hands over her mouth.
“I’ve just — I’ve heard of that place before, but I thought… I thought it was just a made-up place.”
Luffy swallows hard, frowning, “What’s it like?”
Nami’s eyes flicker between you and Luffy, “Supposedly… it’s the home island for… for the most feared group of assassins in all the seas combined.”
Usopp’s eyebrows jerk up, “The most feared?”
A faint smile seeps across your lips like blood.
“Yes. The Shadows that Live.”
Everyone turns to look at you. Luffy picks up another drumstick.
“Whoa… cool name!”
Zoro hums, “I’ve heard of them before — but mostly, it was just an old wive’s tale about… shadow assassins who hunt in the dark. Mercenaries for hire. But… no one’s ever seen one before.”
“Because… once you see one, you’ll never live to tell the tale,” you say, your eyes now downcast and fixed on the glass in your hands.
“Then…” Usopp’s voice is soft, “What about… you?”
“I… I ran away.”
Silence greets you. But after a moment, Luffy spits out a bit of bone and uses it to pick at the space between his teeth, his eyes round.
“Wow! You must be pretty good to run away from an island full of shadow assassins!”
You almost laugh, his boundless trust hitting you like a punch to the stomach.
“So…” Sanji lets out a puff of silvery smoke, “the staying still thing… that’s just part of your training, yeah?”
You nod, “Something like that.”
Someday, you think, you’ll tell them about the hellscape that was Elysium island, of the long echoing halls, dark and still and silent. Of the mechanical beasts that hunted by sound and movement alone. Someday, you’ll let them know about the poisoned pomegranate seeds that they feed all the “recruits” to keep them hazy, of how you’d kept six of them suspended in your mouth and spat them all out when you’d finally made it far enough from the island to allow yourself to breathe.
“And… are these shadow assassins gonna come after us?” Nami asks, her voice careful and light.
You purse your lips, “I… I don’t know.”
Nami sighs, but a moment later, she moves to refill her drink with a slight shrug, “Well, just one more enemy to add to our growing list. Soon, we’re gonna have to post a sign-up sheet.”
At this, everyone laughs, and the tension snaps like a wounded spring.
Luffy burps loudly, patting his stomach, “I’m not worried — I mean, if you were able to run away from them once, that means you’re stronger than them, right?”
You pause, your hand hovering over the wine bottle. Zoro gently reaches over and refills your glass for you. You shift back into movement, casting him a small smile and taking a sip. The wine is cool and tangy as it hits the back of your throat. You breathe, and the world keeps spinning.
“I… I’m not sure — I’ve never fought… any of… them… before.”
“Guess we’ll find out if they try to come for you then — but you’ve got us now!” Luffy says, reaching for an apple and chomping into it, “ — Sho… you duon gotta wourry —” he licks his lips as he takes another huge bite before tossing the core towards the waste bin, “We’ve got your back!”
Nami makes a disgusted face, “Don’t talk with your mouth full, ugh.”
Sanji chuckles, tapping out his cigarette, “Yeah Luffy, mind your manners.” But his voice is full of laughter and you find yourself relaxing into the sway of the night, the swing of conversation. Beside you, Zoro refills his own glass and leans over to clink it against yours.
You turn, but he only raises his glass before taking a sip.
You mirror his movement, cradling the cup to your chest when you finish.
Later, he finds you by the tangerine trees, ghosting your fingers over their lush green leaves, dark enough to look black in the evening light.
“Hey.”
You turn, “Hi.”
Zoro sighs and looks out over the darkened waves, the moonlight refracted into a million shattered bits of sky.
“Luffy’s right, y’know.”
“What about?” you ask, joining him by the railings. The night air is cool and crisp. Behind you both, the island oozes with lamplight and laughter. Even from here, you can hear the joy, the peace that permeates the air here. It wouldn’t be a bad thing, you think, to stay here forever.
“If they come for you,” Zoro says, “we’ll have your back.”
You let out a small chuckle, looking down at your hands, “I know.”
“So,” he turns towards you, his earrings glinting in beneath the scimitar moon, “you don’t have to be afraid anymore.”
You lick your lips, and instinctively, you reach for the stillness. All the days and weeks and months with the people around you have softened you, and for that, you know you should be thankful. Still, old habits die hard, and you have to clench your fists and dig your nails into your own palms to keep from freezing completely.
You take a shivering breath and force it out again.
“Fear’s a hard habit to break.”
At this, Zoro grunts, though it sounds something like consent. The moment stretches, long and soft and taffy-sweet.
He turns back towards the sea, “Yeah,” he says, and then —
“But we can take it slow.”
You swallow hard, passed the broken shards of forgotten words lodged in your throat (you find that they all somehow taste like thank you), and you nod. Warmth tickles your cheeks and you wonder why he’s said we instead of you — and later, lying in your bed at night, staring at the moon-slatted ceiling, you wonder if he was really talking about fear or if it was something else entirely.
You don’t get a lick of sleep that night.
The next few days pass in a light, repetitive blur. You and Zoro are sent on a few short shopping trips in the city, and you’re glad for something to do that involves movement. Shocking how quickly the body adapts once the weight it’d been holding on to is lifted.
You are still quiet, and he, the same; but the silence has shifted around you, and whereas before it’d been solid and steady, it’s now thrumming and charged with some unspoken energy.
Neither of you are blind to it; nor, it seems, is the rest of the crew.
Sanji’s taken to openly teasing Zoro about being with you all the time, complaining loudly that he can’t get a word in edgewise because Zoro refuses to leave you alone. Nami keeps on trying to drag you out for “girl's day” shopping trips, hinting at all the cute clothes you could get and how “green really suits your skin tone, y’know?”
Luffy and Usopp for their part, both just grin whenever they see you together — Luffy stoked at the fact that you seem more happy and talkative, Usopp gleeful at the way Zoro always seems so much softer when he’s next to you.
You’ve taken to watching him when he trains, sitting in the shade of the tangerine trees, a cold drink in your hand as Zoro runs through his katas. You content yourself with watching him flow through the movements, one and then another, and then another after that. He contents himself with your presence, knowing that you’re here, feeling your eyes as they skate down the length of his back or the width of his shoulders.
It’s a peaceful sort of companionship, even if it is living on borrowed time.
When you all wave the little island goodbye, it’s with heavy hearts and tearful smiles. It had treated you well, and you think you’d miss it. But adventure is as adventure does — it calls, beckoning to those with wandering hearts to listen.
The first week back at sea is a strange one, full of a ringing nostalgia. As if you’re simultaneously coming home and leaving one at the same time. Everyone is a bit quiet, except for Luffy, of course, who literally bounces off the freshly waxed planks, humming to himself as he sits on top of the great ram’s figurehead.
“Is he ever still?” you ask one day, sometime in the second week.
To which Zoro makes a sound between a scoff and a laugh, “You’ve been here a while. What’d you think?”
You sigh softly and tear your eyes away from the bright, shivering ball of energy that is your captain towards the far horizon. A sliver of uncertainty twines through you and your breath slows. Zoro glances at you, now long since attuned to your subtle shifts in movement and stillness. He narrows his eyes.
“What is it?”
You shake yourself back into the moment, forcing a smile.
“Nothing. I think…” your words fade as the feeling twists in you again, knife-sharp and stinging. You clear your throat and reach up to brush away a strand of hair. Skin grazes skin as Zoro’s hand meets yours in the same gesture and you both freeze — hands held up, his finger caught against the bend of your cheekbone, your fingers curling over his.
Time slows, slackens around the pair of you, and the moment stays, suspended in space — garnet dark and perfect.
Neither of you dare to breathe. It’s then that you realize how close Zoro is — close enough for you to see the entire ocean reflected in his eyes: big and dark and so endless it nearly unmoors you. Close enough for you to feel the warmth of his skin; his body, emanating heat. You’d often wondered, in the long hours of watching him train, at the glistening copper of his skin and the light-kissed quality, if the sun himself favored Zoro as well.
Like this, it’s easy to believe that beneath his skin, there pulsed something like sunlight.
“Look! It’s an island! It’s an island!”
And just like that, the moment shatters. Time slips back into motion and you pull away from each other, breathless, with warm cheeks and thundering hearts, feeling somehow lightning-touched and static-ridden.
You take half a step back, reaching up to press a hand to your mouth as if to stop something from tumbling through. But what? You can’t really say.
Zoro tips back as well, whipping around to help Usopp and Sanji with the sails as Luffy continues to holler, waving his hat. On the horizon, you see it looming — the silhouette of an island. You lower your palm from your lips to your heart and wonder what kind of island it will be.
Deserted — seems to be the answer when you all make landfall. The island is quiet, but the occasional chirp and cricket staves off your nerves as you all wander cautiously about the beach, squinting into the dense forest that seems to encompass the whole of the island.
“Looks like a good place to camp for the night!” Luffy says, grinning as he plops down on the sand.
Sanji nods, dusting off his hands, “We’ll need some wood for a fire, but I reckon I can whip up some grilled fish from the fresh catch.”
You wrap your arms around yourself and look around, glancing back at the darkening horizon.
“Something the matter?” Zoro’s voice is soft as he helps you carry some of the camping supplies from the ship.
“No… yes… I —” you look up at him, pursing your lips, “I don’t know. I’ve just… this island is…”
Zoro looks around, his dark eyes scanning the thick swath of forest just beyond the beach, “Too quiet?”
You let out a tiny laugh, “Yeah, something like that.”
He nods, “Don’t worry, I’m — we’re here.”
And he leaves it at that, hoisting a stack of wood over his shoulders and going to help Nami with the fire. You watch him with a smile, wondering what on earth you’d done to deserve this level of caring, this magnitude of kindness. Soon, dinner is had and drinks are shared and laughter is spilled like so many silver coins over the white sand beach. The lull of the evening takes over you all, and before long, Luffy and Usopp are slumped over each other, snoring loudly.
You stare into the depths of the fire and try to tamp down the growing dread festering inside your bones. All those years of holding still, of breathing and listening and feeling — you shake yourself — no, not all stillness is a bad thing. Not all silences are made the same.
“You’re doing it again,” Zoro’s voice almost makes you jump. Instead, you turn, finding him next to you as he nurses a half-drunk bottle of wine in his hands. He doesn’t look at you, but there’s a loose grin hinged across his lips.
“Sorry,” you say, ducking your head, feeling a now familiar heat creep into your cheeks that has nothing to do with the dwindling bonfire.
“Don’t be,” Zoro takes another drink, “But I told you… you don’t have to be afraid anymore.”
“I know… and I’ve said before —”
“Fear’s a hard habit to break,” Zoro echoes back at you, finally glancing over and catching your eye.
You breathe out, looking down at your own hands, “Yeah… but I’m trying.”
You both fall silent, and for a while, the only sounds are the crackle of the dying flames, the shush of the ocean waves, and the occasional snores from the rest of your crew. It’s late — later than you realized.
“Do you… want me to grab a book for you?”
You smile, “No, I don’t think it’s bright enough.”
“I could restoke the fire.”
“No, it’s — it’s okay.”
“Alright.”
A bird coos the distance.
“Why don’t you tell me a story?” you ask, turning to look at Zoro proper, shifting till your body is facing him.
In the faint light, you can see the edge of his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.
“You’re asking the wrong guy — you should wait till the Great Captain Usopp’s awake.”
“Yeah, but I want to hear one from you.”
Zoro sighs, his eyes fixed on the last of the flickering flames. He takes another swig of wine before he starts to speak, his voice low and a bit stilted, but he pushes on. He tells you about his childhood, the village he’d trained in, the doujou in the middle of the wood, his friend who he’d never beat — not even once.
He tells you about he early mornings and the late nights, and how the world had seemed large enough to conquer.
“… And then… there came a morning when she didn’t show up… and sensei came and told me that there’d been an accident.”
His voice almost breaks then, and your eyes catch on the shining white hilt of the Wadou Ichimonji — his thumb pressing against the guard, running along it’s hard metal edge.
“Oh… I’m sorry.”
Zoro shrugs, “Don’t be.”
You nod, “Still.”
Zoro slates you a lopsided smirk, “So. Now you know my tragic backstory too.”
You laugh, leaning back to cast your eyes up towards the sky, “And you know mine — it’s almost like we’re friends or something.”
Zoro lets out a long breath, “Yeah… or something.”
There’s a tightness to his voice that makes your skin tingle and it takes everything you have not to look over at him, to try and see if he’s looking at you, watching you the way you’d imagined him to be. You fancy you can feel his gaze on your face, but you close your eyes instead.
You let yourself fall into the warm haze of sleep, and for a while you drift there, your mind sifting through shards of memories and slivers of sound, casting them against the backs of your eyelids as you slowly slide into the darkness of dreams.
You wake up to a gasping stillness — the silence pressing in on your eardrums like thumbs, the darkness around you so complete it’s almost a solid thing. You freeze, your breath hissing to a halt inside you. Then distantly, ever so distantly, you hear the sounds of battle — metal clashing against metal, the hard thud of boots against flesh. You shake your head and reach up to clap your hands over your ears and only then do your senses return to you, snapping back as if you’d been abruptly shunted back into your earthly body.
“Gum Gum — Pistol!”
“Seize her!”
You whip into movement, fast as a flash, dashing away, hoping against hope that it would draw your attackers far enough from your crewmates.
“No one… ever… leaves us…”
The voice is serpentine and susurrus, sinking into your skin like sharpened teeth, but before it can reach you, it’s cut short by a bright flash of silver.
You gasp, whirling around, reaching for the nearest pulse, instinct taking over as you sink your fingers into muscle and flesh. The rush of blood thrumming beneath your fingertips comes too easy, even as a familiar scent accosts you. A moment later, your hands are being pinned above you, and thick, rough bark is digging into your wrists as Zoro stands before you, a sword in one hand, the other holding you still.
His eyes are a little wild and a lot worried. There’s a ring of red rawness around his neck, thin trickles of blood trailing along his jugular, disappearing into the wide scoop neck of his shirt.
“Hey, look at me.”
You nearly whimper, struggling against him, fear still coursing through you like a drug but Zoro is strong enough to keep you held. Behind him, you can see the rest of the crew fending off several shadowy figures, Usopp waving a torch, screaming at the top of his lungs, Luffy whooping as he whacks another figure with his fist.
“Z-Zoro?”
“Yeah, it’s me — eyes up here.”
You swallow in a breath, and then another, and you feel the bright thrum of urgency leave you as your body slowly falls slack. And then you’re slipping, and he’s looping an arm around you to keep you upright.
“Th-they’re here — they —”
“They’re gone — we got rid of them — hey.”
Zoro takes you by the shoulders and gives you a gentle shake. Finally, your eyes catch on his and your gaze holds. You see yourself reflected in them, stark and terrified, but alive — somehow alive.
“They’re gone,” he says, his voice soft and low by your ear, his arm still wrapped around your middle. Shivers wrack your body as you bury your face in his shoulder. He smells of steel and skin and the metallic tang of blood. It’s then that you remember — the wounds on the sides of his neck. The marks in the shape of your hands —
You jerk back and feel a sticky wetness against your cheek.
“Zoro, I hurt you!”
At this, he scoffs, pulling back far enough to flash you a look.
“This is nothing. C’mon.”
He offers you a hand, and after a second you take it, letting him pull you to your feet. Wordlessly, he presses his palm to the small of your back, his arm extended to keep you steady as you both make your way back towards camp.
“Phew! That was a workout!” Luffy is saying just as you both reach the outskirts of the now-darkened bonfire. Sanji is pulling out a cigarette, striking a match, and first lighting the end before tossing it into the remains of the firewood, fanning it up into a slow flame.
Nami and Usopp both look a bit shaken, but none worse for the wear.
They all pivot to look at you.
You go still against Zoro’s side, uncertainty flooding through you. Faintly, you feel Zoro’s fingers as they press into the bend of your waist, solid and steady.
Then, Usopp coughs, “C’mon y’all — the Shadows that Live? Psh! More like — the Shadows that Fled, am I right? Yeah? Didya see the way I sent ‘em runnin’ with my brand new fire-powered explosion rounds?”
Nami chuckles and Sanji follows suit, shaking his head and letting out a thin wisp of smoke. Luffy’s grins at you, pumping a fist in the air, clapping his right shoulder.
“See? Told you we’d have your back! We are your crew, after all!”
Weakness seeps into your limbs as you nod, hot pin-pricks of tears itching at your lower lashes. You lower your head and rub at your eyes before looking back up again with a smile. Sanji grimaces as he looks over Zoro.
“Got something on your neck, mate.”
Zoro glares but you glance over and feel your stomach twist with guilt.
“Sorry… I can clean that up for you. They’re not deep but they do need to be bandaged up.”
Zoro wipes down his sword before sheathing it and motioning towards the ship. Behind you, you can hear Nami yawning and saying something about catching up on some more sleep and Sanji reassuring her about having the last watch anyway.
The kitchen is still dark, but the dusty dawn sweeps against the far horizon and neither of you bother to turn the lights on. You carefully set the first aid kit on the kitchen counter and collect the supplies as Zoro leans back against the edge and folds his arms. You work in near silence, reaching up to first wipe the thin threads of drying blood before tending to the tiny, crescent-shaped puncture wounds.
You press an alcohol-soaked cotton ball against one of them and feel Zoro wince.
“Sorry.”
“I’m fine.”
You bite your lips, “If this had been a bit deeper or a few inches over —”
“But it wasn’t. So it’s fine.”
You don’t look up at him but you can feel his eyes on you. Your movements are fluid and sure; you’d clearly done this before.
“Hey, look at me.”
You freeze, eyes slowly gliding up the planes and divots of his neck, slipping up the line of his jaw, so sharp it might’ve been turned on a diamond cutter’s lathe. Your breath hitches as you finally meet his eyes, and there’s a dark, knowing glint behind them that makes your stomach flip.
“I’m fine.”
And for the second time in a handful of hours, you’re caught by the realization of your closeness — only a breath of space between you. There’s a crimp at the corner of his mouth that looks dangerously like a smile and then you’re tipping forward, a thumb reaching up to trace the line of his bottom lip once —
The movement acts like a trigger, and suddenly, he is leaning in and the breath of space disappears.
For all your life of stillness, you thought you’d learned to appreciate the depths and widths of movement. But nothing could’ve prepared you for this — for the push and pull of lips on lips, for the force and friction of skin against skin. For the gasp and hiss, for the breath and kiss.
For the feeling of his large palm as it settles along the swallow’s-nest bend of your neck, the way his thumb runs along your jaw like tracing the guard of his beloved sword, tilting your mouth towards him. For the way your heart might flutter like a tiny, caged bird, or the way you might feel his heart thumping like a fist from his chest to yours.
For the way his voice rolls over your name like a ship at sea; for the way it would shake your body from your bones and leave you more liquid than solid in his arms. For how you never used to think your story would be a love story, but then you realize that every story is a love story if caught in the right moment, in the right light.
And here, breaking apart from Zoro, with a thick, stolen streak of lemon-yellow sunlight leaking in from the kitchen window — that’s exactly what it feels like.
“Oh,” is all you have the strength to say.
Zoro, in all his solid brilliance and quiet audacity, laughs.
You taste the smile on your own lips before you realize you’re smiling. But when you try to bury your face in his neck, he winces slightly as you brush his still-fresh wounds.
“Crap, I forgot about these.”
Zoro chuckles as you hurry to press a few small bandages to the wounds.
“It’s okay. So did I.”
You finish dressing his wounds in silence, though this silence is markedly different from every other silence that had ever existed between you. There’s ease and tension, both, and when you’re finally finished, Zoro takes both your hands in his.
“So…” you say, unsure suddenly of where to look.
Zoro’s laugh is just as soft, just as uncertain.
“So.”
You try to look out the window, but by now, the dawning sun is so bright that it temporarily blinds you and you jerk back. Zoro smiles, reaching up to run his thumbs along your closed eyelids before dropping them to hook around your wrists again.
“Do you… wanna talk about it?” he asks, quiet as always.
You purse your lips and let your lashes flutter open. You find him watching you. Heat crests up your shoulders and into your cheeks, and suddenly, the exhaustion of the night before saps at your limbs. You sigh.
“Right now? Not really.”
“Yeah, neither do I,” he says, sounding as relieved as you feel.
You bite your lips and cast your gaze shyly across his face, your bird-wing heartbeat still flapping in your chest. You fight the urge to go still, to reach for that shield that has always protected you before. Faintly, you feel Zoro’s thumbs tracing circles along the insides of your wrists.
“Can I ask for something else, though?”
“What is it?”
You reach up a finger, nudging one of his golden earrings. You don’t miss the way he shivers, or the way his breath quickens in his chest.
“Kiss me again.”
Zoro grins, tugging you towards him, leaning into the curve of your palm as he does.
And does.
And does again.
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reqs are: temporarily closed
but feedback is much loved and appreciated!!!
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goldfades · 5 months
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𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐒 ─ PB⁵
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౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "paige x iowa!reader (pre-relationship) on game day where maybe r is mic'd up the whole time so fans hear how they flirt, joke around, etc so they start shipping them? the other uconn/iowa girlies always tease them abt it and one night they all go out to a bar tg and someones on live and accidentally catches p and r against a wall kissing or smthn 🫣" for my lovely disco nonnie!
─ word count | 2.6k
─ warnings | teasing, lots and LOTS of teasing, mention of injuries, so much flirting, teasing, slightly suggestive, kissing.... oh and did i mention teasing????
─ taglist | guys idk why my taglist isn't working pls help me and lmk
─ ev's notes | okay so i want to know if yall like the little comment section i put in some of the posts, because i love doing them and i wanna know what ur thoughts are.
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"OKAY, HEY LADIES and gents. It's your favorite, me. Y/N L/N," you tried to whisper into the mic secretively as you looked around. Before you could continue talking, you felt Caitlin grab your shoulders and shake you, eliciting a yelp from you.
You sent her a glare as she giggled and walked away, causing you to roll your eyes. "Anyways, sorry for that stupid interruption. It's game day here at Iowa and we're going against... I don't even remember their names."
You were obviously joking, you had plenty of friends on the UConn basketball team and it was running joke that you didn't like them. You smirked into the camera, knowing full well that your faux ignorance would rile up some competition.
"But hey, who needs names when we've got game, am I right?" You grinned, your enthusiasm showing. "So, while we prepare to show those other guys what real basketball looks like, let's talk strategy."
Leaning in closer to the microphone, you adopted a more serious tone, though the mischievous glint in your eye remained. "First off, we gotta dominate the boards. Rebounds win games, folks. Then, we'll run those fast breaks like there's no tomorrow. Speed kills, baby."
You paused for dramatic effect, pretending to adjust an imaginary headset. "And of course, let's not forget about defense. Lock 'em down, make 'em work for every shot. That's how we do it here at Iowa."
You turned around to see some of your teammates giggling at you, causing you to roll your eyes. "I'm getting bullied again, guys. Remember amazing, hot and very cool players have feelings too, okay?"
"Can you shut the hell up and come stretch with us?" You heard Caitlin shout from the court, causing you to sigh dramatically.
With a playful wink at the camera, you turned away, joining your teammates on the court for the pre-game warm-up. As you stretched and bantered with them, you saw the opponents walk in. You couldn't help but bit your lower lip as you averted your gaze from a particular blonde whom you've gotten close to these last couple of months.
After last year's game, Paige followed you on Instagram and you began talking more. However when you two got injured around the same time, it caused you two to talk more and form a closer bond. Eventually, it turned into Paige texting and calling you every single day and now, it's like you two have known each other your entire lives despite you guys seeing each other face to face three times.
You couldn't help but steal glances at her as you stretched, a small smile playing on your lips whenever your eyes met. The familiar banter and teasing between your teams seemed to fade into the background as you found yourself drawn to her presence.
But amidst the closeness, there lingered an unspoken tension ─ a delicate balance between friendship and something more. You couldn't deny the flutter in your stomach whenever Paige's eyes met yours, or the way your heart raced whenever she flashed you a smile.
Caitlin's voice broke through your thoughts, snapping you back to reality. "Yo, Y/N! Focus up, we've got a game to win!"
"Oh my gosh, look it's serious Caitlin I'm so scared," you spoke into the mic quietly, hoping that she wouldn't hear you. Unfortunately, she did and she got up, holding up her hand as you put your hands over your head. "No, I'm sorry!"
Caitlin laughed at your antics, her laughter infectious as she waved off your dramatic apology. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood today, Y/N," she teased, giving you a playful shove before turning back to the team. "But seriously, let's focus up. We've got a game to win, and I don't plan on losing to those guys."
"Yeah, me neither." She helped you get up from the floor as you walked to the bench. "Thanks, Cait," you said with a grin, falling into step beside her as you made your way to the bench.
As you settled onto the bench, you took a moment to mentally prepare yourself for the game ahead. The familiar sounds of sneakers squeaking on the hardwood, the echoing noise of the crowd, and the anticipation building in the air all served to fuel your determination.
You rose to your feet, eyes fixed on the court ahead. With a quick glance at the UConn's lineup, you immediately spotted Paige among their starting players. Your heart rate quickened slightly as you realized the task at hand — you needed to guard Paige and shut down her scoring opportunities.
In any other situation, it would be easy. Even if the person you were guarding was someone you were friends with, you always made sure to stay professional but this was slightly different. Paige had been the theoretical shoulder you'd been crying on for the last year about your injury that you'd just healed from.
As you stepped onto the court, Caitlin's words from earlier echoed in your mind. You couldn't afford to let Paige get the better of you, not today. You made your way toward Paige and as she met your eyes, she gave you a small smile. You could still talk to her, right? She held out her hand for a quick dap-up and you accepted it gratefully.
"Bro, me and Nika were just talking about how your hair is probably gonna be perfect. You have the best game day hair," Paige spoke finally as you laughed nervously, your gaze momentarily averting to the floor then back to her.
You felt yourself blush under her gaze as you playfully brushed off the compliment. "Oh, you think so, huh?" you smiled, trying to keep the mood light despite the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. "Well, what can I say? Gotta look good for the cameras,"
Paige smirked in response. "Oh, trust me, you always do," she teased, her words laced with a playful flirtation that made your heart skip a beat.
You looked into Paige's eyes, you couldn't shake the feeling of warmth that washed over you. There was something about her presence, her easy smile, that made you feel at ease, even in the midst of a game.
"Says you, with your cute braids. You gotta teach me how to do those one day, you know." You playfully nudged Paige's shoulder, a smile spreading across your face."Now you're just showing off," you teased, your tone light and playful as you admired the braids that framed Paige's face.
Paige chuckled, a soft sound that sent a shiver down your spine. "Or I can just do them for you once you actually visit Connecticut, like you promised."
You just realized that you were mic'd up, as you glanced down at the mic. You laughed nervously, shaking your head. "Alright, alright, you've got yourself a deal," you replied with a playful wink.
You then felt Kate's hand tap on your shoulder, motioning for you to come to the bench with her. Paige gave you a small smile as she did the same, your heart fluttering at the sight of her smile. With one last glance at Paige, filled with a mixture of excitement and anticipation, you followed Kate to the bench.
"Are you gonna lock in, Y/N?" Caitlin's voice rang out as you glanced up at the tall brunette. You saw the slight smirk on her lips as she gazed at you, teasing you without saying anything. She was practically screaming "you're whipped!" as she did.
"Yeah, I'm locked in," you responded as you averted your gaze, laughter echoing in between your teammates as a blush covered your cheeks.
"You know, cus if you're not, I can guard Paige while you go shoot-"
"Oh shut up, Caitlin I hate you." You groaned, causing her to laugh along with the rest of the team. Caitlin's teasing banter was a familiar part of the pre-game ritual, and despite your protest, you couldn't help but smile at her antics.
"Hey, just looking out for you, Y/N," she teased, her tone lighthearted as she flashed you a grin.
As the referee's whistle blew, signaling the start of the game, you shook off any lingering distractions and locked into the moment. This was it the moment you had been waiting for. With a deep breath, you blocked out the noise of the crowd and zeroed in on the game plan.
At one point, as you and Paige push for position under the basket, you couldn't help but let out a laugh as Paige jokingly accused you of stealing her post moves. "Hey, imitation is a form of flattery, right?" you quipped, earning a playful shove from Paige in response.
But perhaps the most memorable moment came when you and Paige found yourselves face-to-face during a heated confrontation for the ball. With the game hanging in the balance, you couldn't help but exchange a playful smirk with Paige, feeling a slight warmth on your cheeks.
Iowa had ultimately won the game but there was no bad blood between the two teams (thankfully), players from both teams exchanged handshakes and congratulatory words, acknowledging the hard-fought battle that had unfolded on the court.
Sure, some of the players were a little hurt but it wasn't like it was the end of the world. However, you knew at some point the two teams would have to play against each other during play-offs but you didn't let yourself get too worried right now. Right now, it was important to savor the moment, to celebrate the hard-fought victory with your teammates and bask in the camaraderie of the game.
──
"You looked good," Paige spoke as she leaned against the wall of the bar. Some of the girls on the team wanted to go out and celebrate and the UConn girls wanted to join. And that was how you found yourself standing next to Paige, a little tipsy as you leaned against the wall beside her, a warm flush spreading across your cheeks at her compliment.
"Thanks, you too," you replied, unable to hide the smile that tugged at the corners of your lips. You felt yourself shy away from her gaze, a stark contrast to how you usually were ─ teasing and outgoing.
Paige noticed that quickly, a small smirk appearing on her lips as she took a tip of her drink. "Aw, look at you, all flustered," she teased, her tone light and teasing as she nudged your shoulder gently.
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," you replied, rolling your eyes in mock exasperation. "Gotta stay humble, right?"
Paige laughed, the sound sweet and infectious as she leaned closer to you. "Don't worry, I think you can handle it," she said with a smirk, her words sending a shiver down your spine.
She gazed at you for a little longer as you looked away, only for her to grab your chin and hold it so that you kept looking at her. With a soft chuckle, Paige leaned in closer, her breath warm against your ear as she whispered, "You're cute when you're flustered,"
"I never thought that you could be shy, you know... with all that shit-talking on and off the court." Paige remarked as she let go of your chin, her gaze still heavy on you. "It's kinda giving me an ego boost,"
"Oh shut up," you mumbled as you took a sip from your own drink, Paige's gaze following your lips. There was something about the way she looked at you, the way her eyes seemed to linger on your lips, that made your heart race.
As you lowered your drink, you met Paige's gaze once more, a playful glint in your eyes. "You're not so bad yourself, you know," you replied with a smirk.
Paige chuckled softly, the sound like music to your ears as she leaned in closer, the warmth of her breath sending a shiver down your spine. "Oh, I know," she teased, her voice low and teasing as she leaned back slightly, a playful twinkle in her eye.
She wasn't usually ever this cocky, sure she's had her moments but never to this extent ─ she didn't know if it was the alcohol or just you. There was something about her self-assured demeanor that was both enticing and captivating, drawing you in with each exchanged word and shared laugh.
"Well, aren't you just full of yourself tonight?" you teased, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your lips as you leaned in closer to her.
"Can you blame me?" Paige replied with a grin, her confidence unwavering as she met your gaze. "I mean, if you had a pretty girl getting flustered over every word you say, even after her beat team yours, you'd be feeling pretty confident too," she continued, her playful tone tinged with a hint of desire as she leaned in closer, the warmth of her breath grazing your skin.
"Well, I guess I can't argue with that," you replied with a grin, your tone light and teasing as you leaned back slightly, a playful twinkle in your eye. "But just remember, I'm not one to stay flustered for long."
With a playful smile, she leaned in closer to you. "Well, lucky for you, I happen to enjoy a challenge."
Her eyes kept flickering down to your lips as she downed her drink, putting it down on the table next to you. She leaned in closer, as if to test the water, grazing her lips against yours as your breath hitched.
She took your reaction as a yes, her hands finding your hips as she pushed you against the wall. She pushed her lips into yours in a hurried kiss, the intensity of her touch sending a jolt of electricity coursing through you.
You responded eagerly, your hands finding their way to her shoulders as you pulled her closer, the world around you fading away as you lost yourself in the moment. With a sense of urgency, Paige deepened the kiss, her hands exploring the contours of your body with hunger.
The taste of her lips was intoxicating, a heady mix of alcohol and longing that left you breathless. You forgot all about your teammates and who might see this and recognize the two of you, because neither of you really cared anymore.
Jada drank her water as she kept skimming through the comments of the live, reading them and chuckling at every remark toward you and Paige. Kate was behind her, momentarily blocking from everyone seeing what you two were currently up to.
Kate heard someone call her name as she quickly got up from her spot, turning to respond to the voice. As she moved away, the brief obstruction she provided from prying eyes was gone, leaving you and Paige momentarily exposed.
As Jada's gaze flickered to the screen, she froze, her eyes widening in surprise at the unexpected sight before her. "Oh shit- I mean, shoot." She quickly moved her phone as she glanced at the sight, giving the camera a shocked look as she thought about what she should do.
She had basically just outed the two of you but to be completely fair, it was on you two for making out in a very public bar. "Guys, don't worry that wasn't Paige that was just some other blonde. Sorry guys, you know how Y/N has a thing for blondes."
She sighed as she locked eyes with Kate, who gave her a shocked expression as she looked down at her phone. Kate gave her a look before Jada looked down at her phone, laughing as she waved.
"Looks like we are gonna have to end the live, sorry guys. Love you, bye, mwah mwah."
Paige finally broke the kiss, leaving the both of you to catch your breath. She smiled as her finger swiped your bottom lip, tracing the outline of it gently. You couldn't help but catch your breath, the taste of her lingering on your lips like a sweet memory.
"You're fucking beautiful," she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur as she leaned in to place a soft kiss on your lips again.
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fettuccin-e · 11 months
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Just This Once
Kinktober Day 18: Squirting + Dacryphilia
Tags: Din Djarin x Reader, afab!fem!reader, unprotected piv (pls wrap it before you tap it irl), fingering (r!recieving), squirting, light dacryphilia, Din being feral but also emotionally stunted (w/c: 1.7K)
A/N: Guess who fell behind on Kinktober again, womp womp. I will not give up though!! I am determined to finish, so please enjoy this Din fic that I may or may not have gotten too invested in while writing it and stay tuned for some more filth coming (and cumming hahaha) soon!! (for Kinktober I have been using this list from flightlessangelwings!)
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There’s something about the coldness of space, the loneliness of it, that makes you so desperate.
When the Crest is quiet, the baby asleep, all you can feel is the vastness of the universe around you, your body cold and needy for touch. And Maker, the Mandalorian notices immediately, the way you cross and uncross your legs in the seat behind him, curling your fingers into your thighs as the stars fly past the ship. You don’t mean to be obvious, but Din always notices.
He knows how to treat you when you get like this, all needy and desperate for his touch, even when you don’t want to admit it. Din is willing to admit that you are far more than just a friend to him, but you both narrowly avoid the strength of the feelings between you both, the bond that drags you together. But still, Din knows exactly what you need, and he has absolutely no problem giving it to you.
He has you splayed across his lap, your back pressed against his chestplate, your head lolling back onto his shoulder. He’d lost his gloves the moment you’d peeled off your pants, his hands the only skin he’ll allow himself to touch you with. It’s a wonderful loophole for you, but an exercise in torture for him. He wants to feel your back pressed against his bare chest, trace his lips down your neck. Wants to feel your heartbeat against his, quick and warm and alive. 
This is the Way, he reminds himself, despite knowing, deep down, that he’s already broken something just by touching you without his gloves. But stars, how can he resist when your pretty, desperate little cunt pulses beneath his fingertips, begging for more, more, more.
He ghosts his fingers up the slick seam of your pussy, and has to hold back his own groan at the way you whine, pressing back against him as your hips twitch uncontrollably.
“Stars, you’re wet,” he grunts, pressing a thick finger into your entrance, already gaping with your need for something, anything to clutch onto. “Needed me this bad, cyar’ika?”
“‘M so- so empty, Din, fuck, it’s like,” you cut yourself off with a gasp as he starts fucking you with that one thick finger, feeling it drag across your walls. “It’s like I can’t fucking breathe without you touching me, Maker, I need it all the time, Din.” 
And it’s true. When you’d first started traveling with Din and the baby, you’d barely even noticed the loneliness. You’d been lonely your whole life, eager to escape your desolate little planet and see the stars.
But then Din had done this for the first time, when tensions had run too high, when things had gone just a little too far.
“Just this once,” he’d muttered, “Can I touch you?” he’d asked, and you’d said yes without a thought.
He’d peeled off his glove, touching your face gently, so gently with those calloused fingers. He’d laid you out on his small mattress, pressing the front of his helmet to your forehead as he let his hand roam the expanse of your body, squeezing your skin over your clothes before brushing them over your clit through your pants. When you’d jerked up and moaned, he could only let out a shaky exhale through his visor as he rubbed tight circles into it, enraptured by the way you whimpered and squirmed beneath him.
“Just once,” he kept muttering, even as he worked one, two orgasms out of your body, “just once.”
Except it happened again. And again. And again.
And now you can barely sleep without wanting, needing Din to touch you. He hasn’t fucked you; there’s an unspoken rule that he’s broken enough of the Creed for you, telling you his name, touching you like he does. You don’t question it, not when you’re the one getting fucked on his fingers until you’re in tears, ravenous for his hands on your body.
It’s like it gets worse as time goes on, your need for him. Even now, pressed against his chest as his thick thighs spread you wide for his hands, it’s like the first time. You writhe against him as he works another finger into your hot cunt, your slick covering his hand. You hump forward into them without meaning to, and you turn your head to tuck it into his cowl as he works you over.
Din fucks his fingers furiously into you, using his other arm to brace across your hips, keeping you pinned to him. He’s practically growling as he pumps his hand between your legs, crooking his fingers up to press against the spot that makes you cry so beautiful for him. He keeps his fingers pressed deep for a moment, just grinding the tips of them into that spot relentlessly and relishing in the way you cry his name so prettily.
“Din, please- oh fuck! Stars, it’s too much, it’s too much oh my- ah-” you wine, feeling tears start to build in your eyes as you edge dangerously close to that peak you need so bad.
“C’mon, mesh’la, let go for me, squeeze my fingers with this little cunt,” he growls, and fuck, you can’t even breathe as you let him work you over, making you cum so hard that you can’t do anything but gasp for air.
And Din can’t fucking take it anymore.
“Fuck, I-” you hear him say, and you turn your head to look at him, even as aftershocks wrack your body, even as his fingers stay buried inside.
“What, Din?” you whisper, and Din nearly curses at the sight of you. Your lashes are wet with tears, stars, why do you have to look at him like that? It wears at his carefully honed control, and fuck, he can practically feel it snap at the sight of you, as the feeling of you.
“Can I fuck you?” he rasps, and you hear him suck in a breath, “please let me fuck you.” You can't hold back the keening whine that leaves your mouth, and Din shivers behind you at the sound of it.
“Please,” you breathe, and Din pulls his fingers out of you without missing a beat, reaching behind you, between your bodies to pull his cock out of his pants haphazardly. You feel the hardness of it press against your lower back, and resist the urge to look. You don’t want to cross any more lines than he’s given you.
“Just this once,” he mutters, pulling your hips back over him, notching the thick head of his cock to your entrance. “Just need to feel you, once, fuck, just once,” and he pulls you down, down, letting his cock stretch you so wide, so perfect.
Months in space, just weeks of having Din touch you, stars, it’s nothing compared to this. You eyes roll to the back of your head as he settles deep inside, so fucking deep that it makes your toes curl.
“Dank farrik, that’s fucking tight-” he grunts, the hot, wet heat of your cunt pulsing around him almost making him fill you up right then and there. He bites his tongue, praying to the Maker that the pain stops him from ending this far too fucking soon.
He uses his hard, strong grip on your hips to roll you into him, grinding you down hard onto his cock. You can only take it as he punches his hips up in aborted, desperate little thrusts that grind into your sweet spot.
“Fuck, Din, it’s so big, I can’t-” you whine, but Din only growls beneath his visor, fucking up into you harder, and your head falls back onto his shoulder plate at the feeling of it. It’s so perfect, it’s everything you’ve needed, stars, how will you survive without him filling you up like this?
“Give me another one, cyare,” he mutters, and he uses one of his hands to bring his fingers to your clit, just like he did that first night. Except this time, his cock is inside you, spreading you so wide and pressing up into your g-spot with every fucking thrust in. You gasp for air, little whines punching out of your throat every time Din shoves in all the way. 
He’s a violent man, always has been, and fucking you is no exception. He fucks you like he hunts: fast, rough, fucking monstrous. Tears finally start to pour down your cheeks, and you hiccup through your moans.
“Look at you,” he rasps, “sobbing on my cock like the needy whore you are.” He doesn’t know what’s happened to him, he’s never talked like this, let alone to you. But stars, the way you moan for him has his head spinning, has words pouring out of his mouth like they’ve been trapped there all this time. “Mesh’la, squeezing me so perfect, never want to leave this perfect cunt.”
“Din, fuck, Din, I’m gonna- stars, I’m gonna-” you gasp, your hands scrabbling at the one hand he has rubbing at your swollen clit.
“C’mon, c’mon, let me feel it, need to fucking feel it-” he mutters, and oh-
You’re pretty sure you scream as you cum, but it’s hard to hear it over the ringing in your ears as you thrash in Din’s lap. You can feel him still inside you, his horrible fingers still rubbing dexterous circles into your clit as he floods your cunt with his cum. Your orgasm feels fucking endless, your thighs trying to close but still held wide by Din’s between them. 
When you finally start to hear again, the blurriness fading from your vision, you can hear Din behind you, muttering, “fuck, so beautiful, didn’t- didn’t know you could do that.”
“Do- do what?” you slur, still groggy, but as you look in front of yourself, you can see the mess you’ve made. You’d fucking squirted, your wetness drenching his thighs and the floor of the hull. The sight makes your head spin, and you hide your face in his cowl as he wraps his arms around you, hugging you close to him. The coolness of his armor is soothing to your overly-heated body.
“So good, you did so good for me, cyar’ika,” he mumbles beneath the visor. “So pretty, can’t believe- you looked so beautiful.”
You let yourself relax into his hold, and he doesn’t let you go. “Didn’t know I could do that either,” you mumble, sleep already weighing down your eyelids, exhaustion flooding your body. “We’ll have to try again later,” you mumble. “Don’t think once is enough.”
“It will never be enough,” you hear him whisper, “not with you.”
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hells-wasabii · 8 months
Note
Hi could you pretty please do velvette x reader who is Carmilla youngest daughter and how her family reacts (plus zestial pls I ship him and Carmilla so I feel like he's a step dad)❤️
A/N: I blacked out and wrote this.... but yeeees LISTEN!! I love Velvette so much, its not even funny and i had a lot of fun with this prompt! I didn't realize how much i wrote for it until it was too late, and by that point, i really couldn't stop. but I hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it! ps i honestly ship them too
Part 1 | Part 2
Character: Velvette
Type: Headcanons + Drabble (Velvette x reader who's Carmilla's youngest daughter, General with a bit of Angst and Fluff sprinkled in)
For Velvette, she actually entered into the relationship not really knowing who your parents were. You never brought it up and she never really asked. It didn't really matter to her, since, ya know, you're the one she's dating, not your mum and dad, or step-dad from what you've mentioned.
Honestly, she should've seen the similarities. They were there for sure, but let's face it, there are so many demons in hell that it was probably just a coincidence, right?
Carmilla also knew you were seeing someone as well, though she really figured that you would bring this special demon around when you were ready.
Oh, they were both wrong. So very wrong.
They found out simultaneously, of course, as cliche as it was. You were on an evening out with Velvette with no clear destination in mind, just simply enjoying the evening and each other's company when the next thing you knew you were face to face with your mother.
It... didn't go too well.
What had once been a peaceful evening nearly dissolved into a turf war all in an instant. If you hadn't been able to separate the two with a promise to talk to both separately later there was no doubt that everything in a three-block radius would be collateral.
Zestial and your sisters would find out soon thereafter, Carmilla of course telling them when they see her come home looking quite distraught.
As stated before, to Velvette, it really didn't matter. though it did sweeten the deal. It would give her plenty more opportunities for her to provoke the arms dealer, something that she already took a great deal of pleasure in.
Zestial would be skeptical of the relationship at the start but eventually comes to accept it fully. His patience won out this time. He's seen more than enough relationships like this go up in flames and he'd never want that for you. He considered you a daughter after all.
As for your sisters, both of them were simply happy that you were happy. They were more worried about how y'alls mom would react. And you can't tell me that they didn't already know, either.
Carmilla on the other hand... To her, family is everything. I mean, she killed an angel for you and your sisters. She'd do anything for her kids, and that includes keeping someone like that upstart from breaking your heart. She wholeheartedly believed that Velvette was only dating you to get one over on her. It really comes as no surprise when she goes all the way to Vee Tower to confront the youngest overlord herself.
"You need to stay away from my daughter."
The fashionista bit out a curse as a needle pricked her finger. Velvette doesn't usually startle easily, but shit, between her being completely focused on finishing and the fact that her workshop had previously been silent save for any sounds that she had been making herself, she thought that even the most stone-cold bitch would've jumped.
What good was the security for if those nitwits couldn't keep unauthorized demons out of her workshop? The influencer swore that if any blood got on the material for this dress she'd personally kill the guards and whoever-
Oh.
Of all the people she expected to see, Carmilla Carmine, the uptight weapons dealer, and apparent mum of her girlfriend, was not one of them. Or actually, scratch that. She was completely expecting this to happen sooner or later.
"Well, it sucks to suck then, wrinkles, I'm not going nowhere." The fashionista bit back, a smirk settling on her lips that quickly fell when the older woman tried to push her point.
"I know what you're trying to do and it-"
"Obviously you don't." All mischief gone from her tone, Velvette set her work to the side, careful not to crumple the fabric. She rose to her feet and began to cross the room to Carmilla, who in turn stood taller, determined not to let this miscreant make a mockery of her, her family, and most importantly her youngest daughter. "I hate to break it to you, but the only way I'll break it off is if SHE wants to."
Velvette paused, her eyes boring into Carmilla's with a conviction and passion that the arms dealer hadn't felt from the influencer before. When the younger woman spoke again, her voice was softer than before, laced with a sincerity that would leave the mother speechless.
"I love her."
Its this singular interaction that leads to a truce between the two (technically five if you include Zestial and the Vee's) Overlords. They would come to some sort of mutual understanding that if both of them were to be in your life, they'd have to play nice. At least in front of you. At Overlord meetings, well, that's a whole different story.
626 notes · View notes
marlenesluv · 1 year
Text
Moments. (LN)
summary: some posts Lando has made on his .jpg insta account while you guys are dating :’)
warnings: light cuss words (i think theres one)
this is part one! there will be a part two!
masterlist here -> masterlist link
^ check my list for the other parts! ^
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liked by: danielricciardo, y/n.user, and 223,109 others
lando.jpg: the two she agreed to, and the one i got of her on the steps :)
view comments…
y/nlando.fanpage: my favorite couple is looking so good
y/n.user: i’m stealing the first two for my insta, thank you, lan <3
|> landonorris: you’re welcome🙃 (take all three)
|> y/n.user: my bun looks bad, no thank you!
|> landonorris: no it doesnt😠😒❤️
|> georgerussell63: parents are fighting again🙄
y/n.fans: mother is mothering (lando is there ig)
f1updates: we live for the content *faints*
wagsof.f1: our lovely, y/n looks so stunning
danielricciardo: when does y/n get her own .jpg act?
|> y/n.user: should i….
|> landonorris: YES, ive been saying this for months..
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liked by: carlossainz55, oscarpiastri, and 201,389 others
lando.jpg: can you tell which photo of y/n is on my camera, and which is on my phone?🤔
view comments…
francisca.cgomes: hmm, idk, but she looks stunning in both
|> y/n.user: kika stop🥹 ily
|> francisca.cgomes: ily more, pretty😊
f1wags4life: new ship, kika & y/n
|> f1.inchident: all of the wags > their bfs
|> f1wags4life: so true
y/n.lando.fp: you guys are the cutest, i’m gonna go cry myself to sleep
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liked by: alex_albon, charles_leclerc, and 263,978 others
lando.jpg: just my girl converting me to a matcha man (i’ve never been happier)
view comments…
y/n.user: you’ve never been happier because of the matcha or me….
|> landonorris: both, mostly you though☺️
y/nsfanpages: and they say romance is dead? they are romance
charles_leclerc: you’re a matcha fan now, lando?
|> landonorris: ive joined the better side of the world
f1grid.fp: the ‘it’ couple in my books
ferrari.lover: i may be team ferrari on the circuit, but off the circuit, im team y/n & lando
carmenmmundt: my favorite couple
|> georgerussell63: excuse me? what about us??
|> carmenmmundt: oh…hm. we are second
|> georgerussell63: SECOND
|> y/n.user: uh oh☹️
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liked by: y/n.user, pierregasly, and 245,107 others
lando.jpg: pizza day ❤️ (pic cred: carlossainz55)
view comments…
carlossainz55: i am an amazing photographer
|> landonorris: you are definitely a photographer
|> y/n.user: i like this photo, carlos :)
|> carlossainz55: thank you, y/n! :)
|> landonorris: 😐
leclercfans1: awwww, im obsessed with them, let me be alone in peace
y/nismyfav: love this account turning into a y/n fp🥲
f1.grid.updates: they scream lana del rey
|> xoxo.grid: omg stop they do
lilymhe: i love y/n, can you pls tell her, lando
|> landonorris: y/n says she loves you too
|> lilymhe: 😁💓
|> y/n.user: LILY💓
|> alex_albon: i think our gfs like each other more than us…
|> landonorris: you THINK?
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liked by: danielricciardo, y/n.user, and 298,329 others
lando.jpg: my girl looking stunning…then me and daniel
view comments…
f1islife: i love this trio
|> mclaren: we do too🤔
|> f1islife: SLAYY
arthur_leclerc: i cant believe y/n had to third wheel
|> danielricciardo: it’s tough for her sometimes
|> y/n.user: um? who’s the one in landos bed, smartass?
|> landonorris: thank god it’s you, y/n❤️
|> y/n.user: 🥰🤗
|> danielricciardo: i’m heartbroken 💔
f1wags: daniel ricciardo: a new wag?
|> fp.y/n: YES
lailahasanovic: me patiently waiting for y/n’s jpg account….🙃
|> y/n.user: i’ll make one 🙏💃
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(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated!^-^)
1K notes · View notes
daistea · 2 months
Text
First Burn — Mithrun x F!Reader
“You have a choice, Captain. You don’t have to follow me around if there’s something else you’d rather be doing.”
“There is something else I’d rather be doing,” he admitted with a slow nod.
post-canon, spoilers for Mithrun’s story
7000 words :0
NSFW! pls interact responsibly. No minors.
Disclaimer: I do not know how to write smut :)
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Recently, the world had stopped on its axis. Dungeons collapsed, entire countries burst up from the sea, and Mithrun of the House of Kerensil decided to try.
And he would spend the rest of his life trying. Sometimes, he succeeded. Sometimes, he did not. The other week, he felt an inkling in his chest that he translated as a new desire— for bread. A desire for fresh bread. You proceeded to fulfill his desire, because that’s what you’d decided.
You tried, too. You tried hard. Sometimes, you succeeded. Sometimes, you did not. And judging by the barely-there expression of annoyance on Mithrun’s face, you had a feeling that today would be the latter.
“You don’t have to stay,” you said. While the street around you was crowded and bustling, the space between you and Mithrun felt private, quiet. He was lost in that secret space until your words yanked him back to reality.
You watched as his brows furrowed and a little line formed between them. His good eye searched your face as if looking for answers, but he had to know what you meant. If he wanted to go, then he could go.
It seemed to be the kind of day where he didn’t want anything. He was a ghost lingering at your back, pulled through the hours by some invisible string that kept him tied to you. On his worst days, he viewed himself as an anchor dragging behind your ship. Yet, you never cut that line. You wouldn’t dare.
Without an ounce of hesitation, you met his face. The line between his brow had disappeared, but Mithrun’s usual apathy was weaker, softer. Again, you said, “You have a choice, Captain. You don’t have to follow me around if there’s something else you’d rather be doing.”
“There is something else I’d rather be doing,” he admitted with a slow nod.
You perked up. You offered him the choice to leave simply because Mithrun deserved to have choices, though you knew that if he wasn’t following you then he’d most likely end up spending the day staring at the ceiling of his home. It was one of those days. When his brain decided to comply, he would keep himself busy with a hobby, or he’d visit the palace, or search for monsters on the outskirts of the city. He didn’t always need your company to keep himself functioning.
Yet, the fact that there was something he wanted to do was enough to make you smile. “That’s great,” you turned to face him fully. You had a basket of vegetables hanging off your arm as you and Mithrun stood in front of a merchant stall. Another customer approached and you placed a hand on Mithrun’s arm to gently guide your bodies out of the way. The streets of Melini had become crowded as of late, with more tourists coming to see the newly risen country.
“I suppose it is,” he agreed. He glanced down at your hand on his arm, following your fingers as you pulled them away and rested them on the handle of the basket. Then, his good eye flickered back up to your face.
“So,” you rocked back and forth on your heels, “what is it? Anything I can help with?”
The apathy instantly disappeared. Mithrun raised his brows and tilted his head, his good eye widening in thought. “Yes, actually. I want to have sex. With you.”
You froze.
Despite his words, the world still spun and time still flowed. It was offensive how nothing came crashing down for you, how the planet’s rotation didn’t stop to allow you a moment to comprehend Mithrun’s words.
Heat curled in your lower abdomen. Your throat went dry and you let out a soft exhale. All you could manage in response was, “Huh?”
Mithrun gave a quick nod and looked at you as if you were a bit stupid. “Now.”
Now. The hair on the back of your arms stood to attention. “Huh?”
“That’s what I want,” he slowly explained, “pay for the food and let's go.”
You had no choice but to close your eyes and block out the street sounds. “Wait. I thought you were having a bad day.”
“Hmm… No. I think you’re mistaking me being contemplative for me struggling.”
Right. Okay. Contemplative, that was the face he made when he was contemplating something. Something like sex. With you. Now.
Mithrun wrapped his fingers around your wrist. His skin was cold but his touch was like fire. He pulled, urging.
You yanked yourself free, “No.”
And he blinked in surprise, “You don’t want to?”
“No,” you corrected, “I mean, yes.”
“What?”
“I mean–” you groaned and ran your fingers through your hair, “I want to, believe me. I want to. But not like this.”
Mithrun’s shoulders slumped ever so slightly. The apathy returned in full-force. He wasn’t hurt, you knew, but he also wasn’t used to having one of his few desires rejected, especially by you. “Alright, I won’t force you.”
A flicker of panic passed through your chest. You grabbed his arm to stop him from wandering off, “I’m not saying no, Mithrun. I’m saying that— Well, that I have standards.”
He glanced at you, “Standards.”
It wasn’t a question. “Yes. Standards. It’s really not arousing to just be told ‘I want to have sex with you’.”
“Oh,” he nodded, the tiniest amount of realization dawning on his face, “I see. You want to be romanced and seduced.”
Truthfully, you wanted to shrivel and die. You would’ve liked to melt into the cracks on the sidewalk and hide in the darkness forever. Romanced. Seduced. Mithrun wasn’t judging you, but you were certainly judging you.
“Not exactly. I just mean that the time has to be right. We can’t plan these things,” you explained. The heat you had initially felt from his offer was replaced by cold, unpleasant dread. Mithrun was the one who so bluntly brought up the subject of sex, yet you were the one panicking and overthinking things.
“Alright,” again, he brushed it off with the least amount of effort. You wanted to smack him for the cavalier attitude, though you knew he couldn’t help it. Mithrun would most likely spend the rest of the day feeling perfectly calm, without a hint of awkwardness, while you slowly drowned in the flood of your own thoughts.
Except—
Except, as Mithrun turned away to continue the task of vegetable shopping, you saw his right hand flex. He curled his long fingers in, and out, then made a fist before stuffing it into the pocket of his coat.
It didn’t have to mean anything.
You weren’t technically a couple. Despite how emotionally intertwined you were with him, you’d never kissed.
Yet, he wanted you. He specified, Mithrun didn’t want sex with just anyone. He wanted it with you. That was his new desire.
Without a second thought, you let the basket on your arm slide off and hit the ground. Then, you grabbed the sleeve of his coat. He glanced at you, stopping mid-step and allowing you to softly yank him closer.
Mithrun knew. He wasn’t as connected to his emotions as some, but he knew what you were doing. He placed his left hand on your hip, the other still in his pocket. And as he leaned in, meeting you halfway, your panic and anxiety melted like ice beneath the sun. He pressed his lips against yours and you tilted your head to deepen the kiss. Whatever your body did from then on was not your decision. Your arms snaked around his neck and you tangled your fingers into the soft hair behind his head.
Both of you knew this moment would come. He was yours, you were his. That had always been the case. Mithrun simply hadn’t had any desire to be physical before. Yet, with the way he pressed against you, now both hands on your hips as he gently walked you backward until your back hit a wall, it was clear. Somehow, in some way, the desire for physical intimacy had returned. Whether you had anything to do with that or not was a mystery, but there was no time to question that. He had needs and wants and there was nothing more important in that moment than fulfilling them.
The rest of the world faded away. Your knees grew weak as you realized that it was finally happening; Mithrun had made such progress. He had a desire, and the fact that the desire concerned you made warmth spread through your body.
Another kiss, then another, while gasps and pants between presses of your lips consumed the space around you. You lowered one hand away from his shoulder and rested it on his chest. Mithrun pushed further until he was the only thing holding you up, keeping you on your feet. His fingers splayed across your back and gripped your clothes. Your chest rose and fell with desperate attempts to get air without breaking contact. If it was possible to melt together, to erase every centimeter of room between your bodies, you and Mithrun would’ve found a way.
His hips brushed against yours. It was barely there, but easily identifiable— a hardness beneath his trousers. Flames within you burst into life and threatened to consume you whole.
“We–” through the fog of sheer want, you managed to grab hold of a sliver of logic, “we can’t do this here.”
Mithrun paused. He still held you, but slowly lifted his face. His lips separated from yours with a soft sound. You already missed the feeling of his mouth. It was cold and empty without him. He glanced out at the street, at the passersby who were pointedly not looking in your general direction.
He shrugged, “I don’t really care,” and returned his attention to you, leaning in again.
You pressed your palm against his face to keep him at bay, “Nope. No way. I care, and we’re not doing this here.”
With an annoyed exhale, he brushed your hand aside, “Fine. Then where?”
The heat in your abdomen was slowly dying down. The realization that most likely a fourth of Melini had seen you and the Captain making out in an alleyway was enough to dampen your fire.
You untangled your arms from his shoulders, trying to pull back. His grip on you resisted until you sent him a half-hearted glare. Only then did he let go and raise his hands to signify that you were free. Yet, as you turned to leave, he instantly grabbed you again.
“Where?” He repeated, his good eye narrowing.
“Nowhere!” You shot back, then paused, “Well, somewhere. But we can’t plan these things, they have to happen naturally, when the time feels correct.”
“Right now certainly feels correct to me.”
“I’ve got things to do,” you complained while you slipped out of his grip once more. You didn’t mean to be so difficult, but the lingering dread of making out in a public alleyway, combined with the fact that your armpits were a bit sweaty, killed every ounce of arousal within. You picked up the basket of veggies and sent Mithrun an apologetic smile, “I promise, we’ll try soon. I want you to be happy and to do these kinds of things, but this is more serious than, like, a food craving or something.”
“Objectively, I’m aware,” he answered, his tone clipped.
“You’re just horny,” you finished for him.
“Unbearably horny.”
What progress! “Good for you,” you patted his arm and smiled, “I’m proud!”
He made a face. You hoped that your imitation of a mother praising her child for a good grade would ease his newfound lust for at least a bit, at least until you could match his energy.
However, Mithrun still clung to you for the next hour. When you stopped to discuss a price with a merchant, Mithrun wrapped his arms around you from behind and nuzzled his face into your neck.
“Is now the right time?” He murmured.
And you brushed him off, because you had no desire to make everybody around you uncomfortable. (Mithrun did not care.)
“No,” was all you said.
He made a small, flat noise of disapproval. Despite your nature, you couldn’t help but smile. Torturing Mithrun made your heart skip a beat, it put you in a good mood.
You separated for the evening. Mithrun had resorted to giving you the silent treatment, which only raised your amusement to new heights. As you watched him turn to walk home without so much as a goodbye, with his barely disguised brooding and glare, a flicker of power passed through you. Admittedly, you were tempted to spend the night in his bed. But you were more tempted by the possibility of teasing him to the brink of his control, of seeing him overcome and ruffled and desperate.
Another curl of heat in your abdomen took your breath away. You forced yourself to turn, to retreat. Good things come to those who wait.
°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。
But it was midnight and waiting was no longer an option. Only several hours had passed since you’d last seen Mithrun, but his words refused to leave your mind.
‘I want to have sex. With you.’
There was absolutely nothing romantic about them. He didn’t use a sultry voice. He spoke those two sentences as if he was reading items off a grocery list. And it was so out of the blue.
Yet, the fact that they were from him, from someone who so rarely felt desire, was special. Without trying, Mithrun had branded the words onto your brain with a hot iron. And that heat traveled down your body like a spreading fire until it burned and pulsed between your legs, growing more urgent with every passing contemplation.
You needed to know: how did he come to realize that desire? What changed? Did he simply wake up that morning in the mood for sex? Had he been trying to cultivate that desire?
You laid in bed, your hands spread out over your chest, your eyes on the ceiling. Another throb of pleasant warmth between your legs made your lips part. Mithrun wanted you. Why didn’t you just give him what he wanted earlier?
Something began to build up inside of you. If you just had a little friction, a touch, it could burst forth and envelop you in warmth.
Your hand trailed down your stomach and—
And a loud clang from outside your bedroom window stopped you. You turned your head to look, hand halted mid-air as your flames began to dim.
In the darkness of the night, a shadow passed by the glass. Their features were blurred by the darkness, but they were tall, wide, and slowly stepping past your window. Your little cabin was on the outskirts of the town, and all of your neighbors were a half mile away. Your friends had always told you that it wasn’t safe for a single woman to live alone in such a vacant area.
Your blood ran cold as the shadow moved on towards your backyard. Instantly, you scrambled out of bed and through the house to make sure all your doors were locked. Another peek outside the window in the kitchen revealed that the figure had crossed the yard and was rifling through your garbage. At least they weren’t trying to get inside. Yet.
Breathless, with a racing heart and tears stinging at the corners of your eyes, you hurried back to the bedroom. You flicked a hand and your communication pixie twirled into existence. You didn’t give it any time to stretch and yawn from its slumber, grabbing it from mid-air and squeezing its little body.
Mana channeled through your veins. You attempted to shove aside the fear and imagine Mithrun, then frantically tapped the pixie’s head, “Mithrun!” You hissed.
A moment passed. No answer.
“Mithrun,” you insisted, your voice choking up. Air refused to travel through your lungs, and you started hyperventilating into your free hand.
Four seconds passed before you heard a soft sigh through the pixie’s mouth, “What is it?”
He sounded tired, groggy, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care about waking him up. “I-I think someone’s stalking around my house. They haven’t tried to break in yet but I’m really freaked out—“
“I’ll be there in a minute,” he instantly said, sounding more awake.
And with Mithrun, he meant it. Walking regularly would take around fifteen minutes, since you lived several miles apart. Yet, when he was determined, he could teleport quickly enough to cross those miles within five minutes.
You quietly groaned and collapsed onto the edge of the bed, releasing your fairy— who sent you a worried look before twirling and disappearing into thin air.
There was nothing wrong with calling Mithrun for help, but embarrassment and dread settled into your stomach nonetheless. He’d prefer you call him with these types of situations, you knew. But you were capable too. You had helped save the world from the demon, yet some random shadowy figure in your backyard reduces you to tears? Pathetic.
It was simply an invasion, and you were in your night clothes and your weapon was thrown into the back of your closet somewhere. That was all. And the fact that the figure passed by your window when you were seconds away from pleasuring yourself made you want to throw up.
Another set of footsteps crunching down on the grass tore you from your thoughts. They were accompanied by a light spell which illuminated silver waves of hair and a dark cloak.
Relief flooded your chest, though you hesitated to let your guard drop entirely. You scrambled through the cabin and toward your kitchen window where you saw Mithrun silently crossing your yard towards the shadowy figure.
He paused mid-step. Then, he rested his hands on his hips. As his light spell floated over him, you caught a glimpse of what he looked at; brown feathers and a yellow beak, accompanied by the slithering of a snake.
A basilisk. It was just a basilisk digging through your garbage.
You couldn’t decide whether you wanted to collapse from relief, or scream from frustration.
Nonchalantly, Mithrun reached out a hand and tapped the chicken part on the back. It disappeared, and he wasted no time in turning around and heading for your back door. Despite your shaking hand and sick stomach, you unlocked the door and opened it to let him inside without a word. He dispelled the light spell and pulled off his cloak with a sigh.
“I’m so sorry,” you exhaled heavily, locking the door, “I should’ve just gone to check on my own.”
Mithrun sent you a blank glance, but as if he’d been caught by a hook, he did a subtle double take. His good eye flickered over your body, across your shoulders, down your thighs.. It took several seconds for his brain to catch up, “No… If that happens again, don’t go outside. I know you can take care of yourself, but I’d rather not risk it.”
He didn’t stop staring. The shamelessness of his gaze on your diaphanous nightdress made you heat up. The intruder was just a scavenging basilisk, you weren’t in any real danger, yet Mithrun had been so determined to help you.
As offensive as the whole situation was to your personal sense of feminism, it made your knees weak.
Mithrun finally looked away. He took a breath that made his chest rise and fall, his hands buried in the folds of his cloak. “I’ll go now, then.”
“No,” you argued before you could even think twice. You grabbed his arm to stop him. He was wearing a loose night tunic so different from the long sleeved, high necked outfits he usually chose. You’d seen his scars before, but it was so rare to touch his bare skin like that, to feel the soft texture beneath your fingers.
Mithrun raised a slight brow, “No?”
He wanted you.
You wanted him.
“Could you stay the night?” You asked, trying to keep your voice steady, “I’d feel better with you near.”
Calling Mithrun to investigate potential attackers was one thing, but requiring his presence to help you sleep was beyond uncharacteristic. He knew exactly what you were doing, and he sent you a look that revealed precisely that.
But he also wasn’t one for complaining. He simply nodded and draped his cloak across the back of a chair, then pulled off his boots. With weak knees, you turned around to return to your bedroom. You wanted to be casual, to not be too hyper-aware of his presence following you down the hall.
Any other decent man would’ve politely asked if you’d rather he sleep on the couch. Mithrun was not other men, and he was only decent around 42% of the time.
You pulled back the sheets. The silence was consuming, but only to you, apparently. Mithrun remained cavalier as he slid onto the left side of the bed and pulled the sheets up around him. He sent you a blank look as if to ask why you were hesitating, why this moment was so monumental for you.
He knew exactly why, he was just being a jackass.
You crawled in. Before you could get comfortable, Mithrun snaked an arm around your waist and pulled your back against his chest. Your bodies molded together as he buried his nose in your hair.
Right down to business. He knew precisely what you wanted.
Your heart started to pound and heat flooded the space between your legs. Mithrun hadn’t wanted anything intimate in forty years. It was the least you could do to let him be a little greedy.
His hand slowly ran down the curve of your waist, brushing over the fabric of your night dress. Once he reached the hem, his fingers danced across your bare skin. He had rough callouses, and as he stroked your outer thigh, the scratch created from years of fighting sent tingles through your veins. The room was quiet save for your exhales, your attempts to control your breathing.
“I wonder,” Mithrun murmured, “did you know it was just a basilisk in your yard, and you used it as an excuse to get me to come over?”
You scoffed, “No. I was fully planning on drawing this whole thing out for longer, actually.”
He exhaled in annoyance, but despite the sharp sound, his hand rounded the curve of your thigh and brushed closer to the sensitive inner part. That warm pulsing between your legs returned. The slight twitch of his growing hardness against your ass was enough to send a wave of arousal through you.
His hand drew up, over your underwear, to your stomach. And while he did that, he pressed his lips against your neck.
“You’re-“ you tried to gather the scrambled pieces of your brain, “you’re surprisingly eager for someone who hasn’t wanted this in so long.”
Mithrun ran his lips down your neck, “I’ve been working on it.”
Spectacular. That answered your burning question. You tilted your head to give him more access as you spoke, “So you’ve been trying to regain the desire for intimacy?”
He nodded, “I have.”
“How so?”
“Just putting some thought into the matter,” Mithrun lightly dug his teeth into the crook of your neck, earning a soft gasp. Then, he continued, “Contemplating what it would be like. Focusing on you, looking at you. Physical stimulation.”
He spoke so clinically, yet the implications behind his answer sent a shiver trailing down your spine. “Physical stimulation?”
“It was hard, at first. Nothing much happened.”
“So… It wasn’t actually hard at first?”
Mithrun promptly pinched your side, but that only made you laugh more. When you didn’t stop giggling quickly enough for him, he dug his teeth into your shoulder and hooked a finger into the line of your underwear. That dimmed the amusement. Despite the interruption, you could feel him growing harder against your ass.
“Anyway,” he grumbled, kissing the spot he’d just bit, “it took some determination and focus.”
“Focus on what?”
You knew. You just wanted to hear him say it again.
“On you,” he pressed himself against you. His hand rose to cup your breast, and his thumb brushed over the hardened nipple.
The image of Mithrun trying to revive his sexual desire by thinking of you, by stroking himself as he focused on you, flickered through your mind. You couldn’t help but arch into his hand.
“How long have you been waiting to try it out?” You asked, breathless.
Mithrun’s hand left your chest. He sat up, and you rolled onto your back to look up at him as he pressed his palms into the mattress.
“A bit too long for my taste,” he said. The gravel in his voice was evident despite how calm he looked. Silver curls fell, framing his face.
You couldn’t tear your gaze away, not even for a second, “What do you want me to do?”
Mithrun tilted his head and raised his brows, looking a little thoughtful, “What do you mean?”
“Do you…” you paused and raised a hand to brush a lock of hair away. Then, you trailed your fingers down the jagged edges of his ear, and he closed his eyes, leaning into the touch. “Do you want me to take the lead? Just to ease us into it?”
His good eye flickered open, “Another time. I’ve given this enough thought to understand exactly what I have to do.” He sat up and gripped the outer flesh of both your thighs. His fingers dug into your skin. You wanted more, you wanted him to hold you so tightly he left bruises, evidence.
“And?” You urged.
“I know that with the few things I want…” Mithrun’s hands slid over the tops of your thighs and to the inner curves, then he slowly spread you apart, just for him. “I have to put in the effort and work to get it.”
There was something so beautifully sinful about his hands on your inner thighs. He opened you up, laid you bare, invited himself in with full confidence that you wanted him there. Your core pulsed, aching to be filled. All you knew in that moment was Mithrun as he sat between your legs. His good eye flickered over your body. If he cared about any imperfections you had, he showed no indication. Rather, he looked slightly thoughtful, as if he were mapping out a battle strategy atop the landscape of your hips.
You couldn’t help but shiver beneath his stare. He glanced up at you, then back down, and hooked his fingers in the band of your underwear. His shoulders rose as he slid them down your thighs, the fabric a caress. You moved your legs to help shimmy them off before he tossed them aside and picked up your right thigh. Leaning down, Mithrun positioned your leg over his shoulder.
As realization burst through your warm haze, you sat up, “You don’t have to do that. I should be focusing on you—”
“Quiet,” Mithrun commanded. He dipped down, but paused, and his gaze flickered up to meet yours, “You’re already wet.”
Wonderful. He said it so casually, too, as if he was pointing out the weather.
You scowled despite the incessant pulsing in your core, “Don’t tease me.”
“I’m not teasing,” he commented.
Usually, you could read Mithrun well. You knew his subtle indicators of emotion— the furrow of his brow, the slight widening or narrowing of his good eye, the twitch of his lips. However, whether he meant to or not, Mithrun’s book was shut for the moment. The closest emotion you could attach to him was analytical. Or rather, curious.
Still, you fought. The heat on your cheeks demanded that you go to war. “We don’t need to bother with me. I think that right now we should—”
Mithrun dipped down and flicked his tongue against your clit. Pleasure rippled up from your core and to your throat. You gasped, but he gave you no time, no mercy. He sucked at your clit, pushing and pulling and enveloping and stroking. Mithrun carried out intimacy much in the same way he fought: ruthless, relentless, disregarding what was right or wrong and focused solely on his goal.
It had been a while for you. You’d given yourself to Mithrun for so long that you never glanced at anybody else. You’d resigned yourself to a relationship with a lack of anything physical. You were okay with that. Mithrun wouldn’t care if you used your fingers, and you’d never ask him to do anything for you without his desire present.
Yet, he’d been trying. And he’d given it so much thought. And he increased in intensity as he stroked your clitoris with his tongue. You’d been writhing and gasping without realizing it, bucking your hips up in a desperate attempt to get even closer.
He let go of your thigh and pressed your hips deeper into the mattress. As his fingers dug into your skin, holding you down like leather straps, the pressure and pulsing and throbbing grew stronger. You ached to be filled. It was all you could do to grip the sheets and gasp for air.
“Mithrun,” you said, breathless. It felt right to say his name, as if that might make the moment feel any more real.
His good eye flickered up to you, but he instantly returned to his merciless attack. You watched as his shoulders tensed in his attempt to keep your hips down. He pulled back for half of a second to catch his breath before diving in with far more enthusiasm than you were used to from him.
The very fact that he wanted to pleasure you, that he was putting in the effort, that you could see the outline of his cock growing hard beneath his pants— it all built up like water filling a balloon. If he continued, the walls would burst and you’d be in ruins beneath his fingers and mouth.
Heat rose. Your muscles tensed and you planted your feet into the sheets, hoping to ground yourself before you floated away. Another intense caress of his tongue threatened to push you over the edge. You wanted it so badly. You wanted to fall, to be ruined by him. The fire within your abdomen started crawling through every inch of your body as you desperately tried to catch your breath.
“Mithrun,” you murmured again. It was louder, then. And, again. Again. His fingers dug further into your skin and you writhed helplessly. You were saying something, though you weren’t aware what it was. Another gasp, another flick of his tongue, and you were broken.
Mithrun rode out your orgasm with a surprising amount of patience. He opened his eye and watched from the spot between your legs as you threw your head back. While he had enough mercy to slow down in his ministrations, he licked up every bit of you that you had to offer. Your chest rose and fell. Your nipples were hard and poked through the thin fabric of your nightdress. Once you started to catch your breath, he pushed himself up, but that was where his mercy ended.
Mithrun gripped your arms and pulled you into a sitting position. He had to hold you to keep you from falling backwards onto the pillows. With one hand, he pulled the end of your nightdress up. “Off,” was all he said.
The command barely reached your ears, but you wanted to take it off anyway. You raised your arms and let him pull it over your head to toss it aside. Then, he yanked off his loose shirt. As you floated back down to reality, you took a deep breath— returning to the land of the sober just in time to catch Mithrun picking up the edges of the bed sheets and using them to wipe your slick off his mouth and chin.
You gasped, “Not the sheets!”
He pointedly ignored you as he lifted his hips and pulled down his trousers, though an ink-black eye lingered on your face, refusing to look anyway. His earlier curiosity was gone, replaced with determination you’d only rarely seen— once, when he encountered the demon. Another time when he couldn’t get a noodle recipe right.
Once his trousers were off, he shifted closer, between your legs. Hesitantly, you leaned back and rested your weight on your elbows. It felt wrong to blatantly ogle him, but the slopes of his arms and shoulders and the angle of his torso would surely haunt you all your days. He didn’t seem to mind, focused on his own endeavors. It was only when he held his dick and brushed it against your wet folds that you finally paid attention.
He rubbed the tip on your clitoris. You tensed, still sensitive, and raised a hand to cover your mouth as if that would be enough to stop the desperate sounds. Mithrun was experimenting, then. He was rarely careful, but he was analytical, smart enough to figure out what you liked. Again, he pressed his length against you and you couldn’t help but shudder.
“You’re very sensitive,” he observed.
Again, the asshole sounded like he was simply discussing the weather. You were crumbling and his demeanor sustained not even one crack.
You managed a glare, “I thought I told you not to tease me.” As if Mithrun ever teased anyone.
“Stop complaining,” he murmured as he snaked his hands beneath you and lifted your hips. Your insides throbbed for him, desperate, begging for him to fill you.
First, the tip. It sunk in like a massage on a sore muscle. Mithrun’s gaze dropped and he watched himself go further. You enveloped him. All he knew was you, your warmth, your wetness, clinging to him. He let out a shuddery exhale as he finally pressed himself inside entirely. His lips parted and he lifted your hips to pull you closer, though there was no more room left between your bodies to close.
His cock inside of you was like honey dripping onto your tongue. It was like silk. It was a several years long hunger finally being satiated. Mithrun thrusted experimentally and you couldn’t help but gasp from the sudden pulsing reverberating up your body.
“Move,” you begged, breathless.
“I—” Mithrun took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He still held your hips, but his hands quivered, “I can’t yet. Just give me a minute.”
His answer managed to pull you from the haze. He hadn’t had sex in forty years, of course he was sensitive. It was his first time feeling the warmth and wetness of a pussy in so long.
But, simply because you had a sadistic streak, you tightened your muscles to clench around him.
Mithrun’s head dropped. He tensed. His exhale was a shudder that racked his body, and he couldn’t help but grind against your hips in response. Finally, he was showing some response, some weakness. You bathed in the sight and feeling of pride. It was you who cracked him. It was your tightness that made him gasp and lose his mind.
He didn’t even need to move, and you were already addicted to having him inside of you. The look on his face, the flutter of his eye, the harsh press of his fingers; how could you ever stop?
But he took a deep breath and straightened himself out. Then, holding your hips, he slipped away, leaving you cold and empty. You sat up with the intent to complain, but he slammed back into you. Any words you had were instantly strangled into silence. His tip hit a sensitive spot, sparks ran up your body. With no warning, Mithrun began to relentlessly drive into you. Skin slapped against skin. Every thrust was yet another breath stolen from your lungs. And somehow, he hit the perfect spot each and every time.
You gasped his name. Mithrun’s lips were parted and his cheeks were flushed, but he looked up to meet your face. Without another word, he lifted his right hand and slid it between his hip and your thigh, then pressed two fingers against your clitoris and began to rub.
With just the simplest touch, he had you falling apart once more. You held desperate eye contact for a moment until you could no longer take it, until you had no choice but to shut your eyes. His name was a prayer on your lips. You praised him, reverential, letting him take you, own you, claim you. His touch was religion. Every time he filled you, you sunk deeper, indoctrinated. Mithrun pressed his fingers down harder and faster as you began to writhe once more. Another moan of his name was followed by a string of curses as the thrum within your core rose to unbearable levels.
“There,” Mithrun breathed out, “There you go. That’s my girl.”
You broke. He shattered you. You had no clue how loud you were, what you said. There was a few ‘fucks’ thrown in there, a few words of blasphemy and sin and pleading. The only sound that cut through your fog of pleasure was Mithrun’s hips snapping against yours even harder. He might leave bruises. He might leave you sore. You certainly hoped so.
Mithrun groaned your name. His hair fell into his face as he pressed both arms into the sheets. His right hand, still slick with evidence of your arousal, went to your face and lifted you into a hard kiss. His teeth knocked against yours but you were too lost to care. Another screw, another thrust, another slam against the most sensitive spot in the back of your body. You’d never come from just dick. You’d never orgasmed with so few rubs.
Mithrun repeated your name and his hips stuttered and—
Then, he buried his face against your neck and dug his teeth into your skin. You wrapped your arms around him to hold him close while he spilled inside of you. All you could think about was his seed coating your vagina, covering every inch while your walls milked him dry. He was yours. You wanted every ounce.
His thrusts slowed down and he caught his breath. You’d told yourself for years that it was okay to forego this kind of physical intimacy with him. You could handle that for the sake of being with Mithrun. Yet, now that you’d felt it, you couldn’t imagine ever parting with it. He was inside of you. He was holding you. He was bruising and marking and claiming you.
And he collapsed on top of you like a limp rag doll.
You let out an oof, “Get off. You’re too heavy.”
He only groaned into your shoulder, the sound muffled. Mithrun was absolutely boneless.
His dick slowly softened and slipped out of you naturally, though you already missed it. You would’ve gladly been his cock-warmer if he asked. You would’ve gladly allowed him to use your body beyond what was proper.
Holding him tightly, you buried your face into his hair. “I’ve got to go pee or else I’ll get a UTI,” you grumbled.
“Just… One more minute.”
One more minute. You wanted more than one, but you were also far too pragmatic to let yourself fall asleep with the threat of unbearable bladder pain on the horizon.
He was dead weight on your body, but it was grounding. If Mithrun ever thought of himself as an anchor, he might be right, though he greatly misunderstood the purpose of the role. Without an anchor, you’d drift endlessly. Without him, you’d lose a part of yourself.
Your soul slowly returned to your body as you patted his shoulder, “Come on, we’ve got to change the sheets too.”
“They’re fine,” he grumbled, another muffled sound.
“They’re gross.”
“It’s natural.”
“It smells.”
Mithrun lifted his head to shoot you an unamused stare, “Get used to it.”
You refused. For the moment, though, you would humor him. It was his first time fulfilling a new desire, a lack of complaints might be in order.
Mithrun rolled off your body and collapsed onto the spot next to you. With a contented sigh, you got out of bed and made toward the bathroom with him dripping down your thighs. The very thought made your knees weak.
After peeing and cleaning up— a shame, despite your concern for cleanliness— you returned to the bedroom to find Mithrun lying on his back in the bed. He had one hand on his forehead, his hair pushed away from his face and his good eye wide as it stared at the ceiling.
You tensed, “What’s wrong?”
“Please tell me you–” he sat up to pin you in place with an intense look, “tell me you’re taking some sort of birth control.”
You were. But all you could do was raise a brow, “You’re just now thinking about that?”
Mithrun looked a bit dead inside, more so than usual. “I was caught up in the moment.”
You decided to cut him some slack, “Yes, I’m on birth control herbs. Really, they’re just to control other things, since I haven’t had sex in years. But still.”
Slowly, his eyes closed. He nodded and lowered back to the pillows.
“Water?”
Another nod.
He lasted longer than you thought he would. He didn’t seem exhausted, though the adrenaline from his orgasm would most likely help him sleep. You brought water and he gratefully drank as you pulled the covers up over your body.
Mithrun set the glass down on the nightstand and sent you a glance. No words needed to be said. No grand gestures were required. He caught your cheek with his calloused hand and nudged you closer until your lips met. You tangled your fingers in his hair. Despite the monumental moment in your relationship, the air remained clear. Your comfort, the naturalness of it all, felt as if you’d been intimate for years, as if you were made for touching each other, as if your bodies were molds created specifically to fit together.
Still.
“Get up,” you demanded between kisses, “I’m changing the sheets.”
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love-marimo · 2 months
Note
Hiii Lili <3 could I request one piece character (idk for who you write, so u can choose!) reaction to a reader who is very normal looking girl (doesn't stand out from the crowd to say soo) but in battle/confrontational situation becomes a complete, very violent and dangerous, destruction machine?
The circumstances or if she is friend or foe, you can choose, whatever let's you more inspired. ✨ If you don't like or feel very inspired by the prompt it's okay, I just really liked your writing style ♥️
There is More Than What Meets the Eye (Monster Trio x Fem!Reader)
ー hello!! thanks for the ask. this is actually such a fun idea. i went a little overboard with this one lololololol. and i decided to go with the monster trio ♡ hope u like it :3 if you/anyone wants to read sth about other characters,pls lmk! i currently write for jjk, genshin and of course, one piece ★
ー as always, requests and commissions are open! ♡ (im bored pls give me something to do :'3)
cw: mentions of weapons, violence, and battles
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Luffy
he's not someone who likes to expect things from anything, let alone anyone.
but he gets really amused easily.
(luffy is a big yolo person, and it shows)
he is naturally protective of his crew though, and that includes you.
but at the same time, he trusts that everyone is capable of fighting and surviving on their own, so he doesn't think much of your capabilities. he just knows that you're strong.
you had just recently joined the crew and you're figuring out how you can help.
you help with franky and usopp with the ship's repairs.
then you tend to the plants with robin.
then you help sanji cook lots of meals (because luffy eats like a monster)
and then you asked nami if you can clean the study room for her so she can make maps comfortably.
and after all that, you joined zoro to workout with him.
for a normal person, doing all these things would exhaust one at the end of the day, but in your case, you seem to never run out of energy.
the crew is thankful for your help, but what they didn't realize is that you never run out of stamina to just do things.
until luffy points out how restless you are.
"hey, don't you ever get tired?"
you were about to answer him when you noticed the presence of a few marine ships at your tail.
the crew panicked and prepared to change course.
when they fired cannonballs, you immediately caught each and every one of them and threw them back at the ships, causing a simultaneous explosion.
there was one cannonball that you almost missed, so you were quick to grab it.
imagine luffy's surprise when you crushed it with your bare hand before it exploded.
everyone pretty much had their jaws on the floor.
luffy practically had sparkling eyes asking you how you did it.
"wow, i never knew you could do that!"
"what other things can you break with one hand?"
"here, can you break this huge weight?"
you were confused, but you obliged, breaking the weight in half.
"so cool!!"
since then he would start attacking you out of nowhere, trying to catch you off guard.
well that never happened, so one day he'll mope about it.
"hey, seriously, what's your secret?" he asks, poking your cheek.
"there is no secret." you laugh. "i just like to train my body."
"well, that's boring." he complains.
after a while though, he smiles at you.
"i honestly thought you look weak. but you're strong, so keep it up!" he said, pointing his thumbs up.
you didn't know whether to laugh or feel offended, but you took it as a compliment.
it feels good to feel needed by your friends.
Sanji
sanji thinks you're the most vulnerable person in the crew.
he doesn't mean to be condescending or anything.
but you just seem so… bland.
and it's not that he thinks you're so weak to the point that you can't defend yourself. part of him just assumes that you're average when it comes to strength and the other wants to protect you because you're a girl and you're pretty.
one day though, you're docked at an island to stock up on supplies and you forgot to tell the crew that you're going shopping by yourself.
sanji panics. what if something bad will happen to you?
something did happen to you.
you almost got robbed.
and sanji saw you manhandle the robber in a flash, and the next thing he knew, you were pointing a dagger to the robber's eyes.
it was so close and he can feel you wanting to gouge them out.
sanji hid himself for a moment, observing how you fight against the enemies.
you were practically raging, beating them up even if though they're already helpless.
one would try to beg for your mercy but you're pissed off. so you punched them hard in the face, knocking them unconscious.
sanji quietly had a nosebleed.
you were just so?? hot??
i mean you already are beautiful in his eyes but something about you being this strong turns him on surprised the shit out of him.
after you're done, you turned towards sanji, going back to your normal self.
"sanji! i didn't notice you were there."
"oh, i love it when you're violent and sadistic y/n-swann!"
he'll practically throw himself at you, showering you with compliments and following you around like a dog.
"forgive me for saying this, but i didn't realize you were that strong." he'll say.
"well, now you know!" you smiled at him.
instantly had heart eyes
"you are my beloved strong woman! woof!"
ever since then, he'll be even more batshit crazy about you.
every time you display your strength in front of him and the crew, it will take every bit of his will power not to pass out.
Zoro
this man…
he doesn't look like it, but he's very good at reading people
he got it after years of travelling on his own as a pirate bounty hunter
he may not have a good sense of direction, but what he's good at is sensing the strength of his opponents.
given that he's in a fight with one.
it's something he honed over time, so that he can create his own strategies when in battle.
like luffy, he knows that you're strong, and you work well in a team or on your own.
what he doesn't know (or at least he isn't aware of) is the lengths your strength can reach.
he has a gut feeling that you never went all out in your time as a member of the strawhat crew. (he's right)
so his competitive ass decides to test you through a spar.
you get fired up by the idea, since you've been wanting to train with zoro for a while now.
"ready? i won't go easy."
what a cocky bastard tbh.
you're very focused on him.
you're literally the definition of "lock on" every time you fight.
after you took weapon of your choice, you began to spar.
since you're on the deck of the sunny, you were both careful not to use complicated techniques to avoid destroying the ship. but you both still gave your all, unwilling to show any blind spots to one another.
chopper admired both of you on the sidelines, and the clashing of your weapons were heard by everyone on the ship.
"hey, moss head! what do you think you're doing-" sanji tries to interrupt.
then you landed a blow to make zoro lose his grip on his swords.
you ended up on top of him, and you pointed the back of your weapon on his chest.
he expected this so he wasn't surprised.
he found it amusing even.
"knew you were hiding something." he chuckled, uncharacteristically admitting defeat.
"but i'm not! i guess i got a little ahead of myself. sorry." you say, looking away from him, a little flustered.
"what are you sorry for? your strength? you know that's a pretty useless thing to apologize for." he replied.
since that day, he respected you more, and you would train together.
heck, when you're on an island, you'll find spacious and uninhabited places where you can spar with him to go all out.
it almost always ends in a draw.
zoro would go easy on you on the ship because you both know that it's not ideal to fully use your powers.
so the times where you can both give your all, you both make the most of it.
he teaches you how to use swords, and if you already know how, he'll teach you some of his techniques.
much to your happiness.
"you're pretty good, honestly. you can easily catch your enemies off guard with how you look." he admits to you one time.
"that's kind of offensive. but i'll take it!" you laugh.
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ー Lolita
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ironunderstands · 5 months
Text
God I love being correct (2.2 leaks incoming!!!)
“Jade saved Aventurine!!!” “Jade helped him out of the kindness of her own heart!!” “Jade is such a mother figure to Aventurine!!”
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mmm yeah, definitely yup 100%
Honestly this fucking speaks for itself, and I’m so glad hoyo committed to the evil on her, she’s very compelling and that’s extremely cunty I must give her credit for it, but god do I absolutely despise the people who believe Jade and Aventurine have a healthy relationship, or that she “saved” him out of the kindness of her own heart or something.
To Jade, Aventurine is an investment, nothing more and nothing less, which is why she puts her faith in him, he’s a reliable business opportunity, but that’s not the same as caring about him personally and I really need people to get the difference
If Aventurine hadn’t proved himself useful to her, she would have left him to rot in prison or succumb to his death sentence, this isn’t saving, it’s exploitation.
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Jade knows Aventurine couldn’t decline whatever offer she made, and anything is worse than death or slavery, the things he’s trying to escape, so she offers for him to join the IPC to make more money for them. That’s it, that’s all she wants, she doesn’t care about how bad being in the IPC is for Aventurine’s mental health, how he literally took on a suicide mission so he could escape being a stoneheart, how even if she “saved” him, his banner name is literally “gilded imprisonment” and his lightcone “inherently unjust destiny”, so damn she did a real good job at saving him and fixing his life, definitely didn’t just put him in a pair of gilded chains.
Also like can we talk about how weird Jades comment about his eyes were? Like it’s genuinely creepy to me considering Avens eyes are a) one of his biggest insecurities and b) people fetishize them, something which Jade knows and chooses to still comment about. I hate to say it, but I feel like if this was a male Jade saying that to a female Aventurine, yall would never let that slide and Jade would never beat the p3do allegations. Aventurine was likely a teenager/young adult in that scene, and either way there is a visible power dynamic between them (I mean Aven is literally in chains looking up at her), and I don’t think if the situation was flip flopped people would be treating Jade like some kinda hero. If they were the same gender I feel like people would be shipping them though 😭
So, yeah. Being correct feels amazing, pls use your brains and realize that just because one character sounds kinda nice to another, does not mean they actually care about them or are a good person!
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sacredsorceress · 1 year
Text
Confessions || Peter Quill
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pairing: peter quill x reader
summary: you admit to peter how you feel second to his and gamora’s relationship and receive the love declaration of your life
a/n: this is my first time writing for peter and writing in general in a while so pls bear with me! i’m also on vacation rn so this is not proofread at all and i can’t get the word count because I’m on mobile but it’s a blurb!
warnings: gotg spoilers?? angst, fluff, mentions of death, self consciousness, jealousy, arguments
masterlist
You would have been lying if you said you didn’t feel second to Gamora.
When you met Peter Quill on the battleground in your fight against Thanos, his wounds were still fresh. Too fresh. The woman that he had loved had died less than a day before for him, and the presence of another version of her did nothing but prolong the sting.
Though, in the two years since you had met, your relationship had slowly evolved from that of friendship and blossomed into an all consuming love.
It was hard not to lose yourself in it. He was funny, optimistic to a fault, oh-so kind… you could barely hold your head above the water.
Most of the time.
Despite all of that, there remained moments where you reminded yourself of the fact that if matters were different, he’d choose her over you every time. Those thoughts came out of nowhere but when they did- the idea of him holding her the same way he did you, laughing at her jokes the way he did yours- they ate away at you. But, you’d shake them away, close your eyes and find yourself lulling yourself back to sleep in Peter’s arms.
Your feelings, however, were bound to boil over at some point.
You don’t even remember how you found yourself in this fight with Peter, but you were deep into it, shouting at each other as you paced throughout the ship when you said the one sentence that stopped Peter in his tracks.
“I’m sorry I’m not her!”
It was as if the air in the room changed. The tough facade that Peter had been displaying deflated in front of your eyes, your hands balled into fists at your sides and you felt a stinging sensation at the corner of your eyes that hadn’t been there early.
You and Peter had talked about Gamora of course. You had listened to his stories and comforted him during rough nights, but what you had never done was share how you felt as though you were living in her shadow.
He pulled away from you as he furrowed his eyebrows.
“What does that mean?”
It was too late to turn back now.
“It means I’m tired of being your second choice, Peter.” You sighed. “It’s just that… I just love you, Quill. I love you so, so much. But I feel like I’m just this placeholder for her. You spent so long chasing that other version of Gamora when I was here this whole time. And I know its hard, and I know it wasn’t easy, but sometimes I just feel that… that you… that you wish I was her and I just want you to love me, Peter.”
You felt yourself let out a breath you hadn’t even realized that you were holding in and watched as Peter’s face softened.
He hesitantly moved from where he stood and took a step closer to you. When you didn’t step away, Peter stretched his hands out to meet you and laid his palms against your arms.
“How long have you felt this way?”
You avoided his eyes.
“Always.”
It’s like you could see the pang in chest.
You watched him swallow and squeeze his eyes shut.
“Y/n, I will tell you this as many times as you need to hear it,” Peter gripped your arms and met your eyes. “I love you. I love you so fucking much it eats me alive, I swear. And I did love Gamora. I can’t lie about that and I won’t. But that’s in the past, babe. I love you. You’re it for me.”
“Peter,”
“No. Shh.” He cut you off. “Let me give you the most epic, romantic love confession of all time, okay?”
You nodded your head and laughed, wiping away the tears that were threatening to spill at the corners of your eyes.
“Okay.”
His hands left your arms as he tugged at his hair and waved them around animatedly.
“Okay good because I love you.” He said. “And not to brag but it’s definitely more than you love me. I let it slide when you call Rocket the captain. I take the blame for you when I know you ate the last of Drax’s Zarg Nuts. I pretend like I don’t hear you telling Mantis every detail of our s-”
“Pete-”
“And I do that because I love you, definitely not because it boosts my ego at all.” Peter stepped back towards you and placed his hands in yours, squeezing them tightly. “And I’m so glad that you have such sick powers that are way cooler than anything I can do because that means that… that uh… wow I didn’t think I’d get so tripped up on this.”
The confidence that he had moments ago faltered.
“We both know it means that I’ll die first and thank god honestly because I can’t imagine living without you.”
A silence hung in the air as you both stood in shock. Him, at having admitted it. And you, having learned it for the first time.
“So, yeah.” Peter finished. “I love you. A lot.”
Your right hand slipped out of Peter’s and instead cupped his face in the palm of your hand. Your thumb rubbed against his scruff as your finger tips brushed his hair ever so slightly.
“I can’t imagine living without you either.” You said. “I love you so much. I’m sorry, Pete.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck while his slid around your waist, both of you gripping the other as if your life depended on it.
“Not to be cheesy, but you’re the one for me, okay?” He said. “The only one.”
You smiled, holding him to you tighter.
“You’re the one for me too, Peter.” You sighed. “I love you.”
The two of you stood like that, at peace in the other’s arms for a good while, soaking in the overwhelming love that you both felt. Until-
“You ate my Zarg Nuts?” Drax asked.
“Oh my go-”
“Jesus Christ, man!”
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sanjisblackasswife · 2 years
Text
OP Men With a Girlfriend with a Fat Ass. (Black Fem! Reader)
Ft. Monster Trio, Kid, Law, Ace, & Shanks
A/N: Yeah boobs are great…but nobody talks about anime dudes loving ass like commonnnnnnnnn. + I think women in OP don’t have big butts. Like…they have the tits sure and Ik they have A FORM of a butt but like…they ain’t got a fat asssssss
CW: A whole lotta nonsense.
Luffy
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You are the sole reason he is a butt guy rather than a boob guy
He likes having you walk in front of him for obvious reasons
He doesn’t realize how much he stares though it’s kinda just subconsciously a thing he does with no shame behind it
Your butt has a literal mind of its own when you walk and it’s just mesmerizing to him
He never touches it though
On purpose
When Luffy hugs you he mostly enjoys wrapping his arms around your hips and thighs and lowers himself to pretty much hug your butt with his face
You remember when Luffy had to hide under Boa’s coat and his body was wrapped around her body—-yeah like that that’s how he hugs you from behind
It’s so soft pls let him bite it.
There was a few times you caught him staring and he’d laugh it off scratching the back of his head before you almost scold him for not paying attention as you talked
If you both are sexual in your relationship your ass is something he holds dear when sleeping with you.
Luffy grinds on ur soft and plush butt while you both are sleeping, at first you couldn’t sleep because of this but you’ve somehow gotten used to his erratic thrust against your ass
When you lay on your stomach and watches you shift just to see your butt jiggle
He’s so amazed on how it still moves even after you stopped shifting
All in all Luffy loves dat ass.
Zoro
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Ass eater fasho
Look at him.
Booty Hunter Zoro
He loves the booty more than anything else on you.
He was actually shocked on how fat your ass really was when you stood naked in front of him the first time KSHSSHS
You always wore jeans and they were so so tight (still looked good in them though) he just didn’t register HOW BIG your butt really was
“Fuck, you have a fat ass, babe.”
HE SLAPS IT SO HARD
And he SLAPS IT ALOT so be prepared
He doesn’t care either how much it hurts he loves watching it jiggle afterwards
Like sir excuse me you left a mark
Absolutely sleeps on it when you both nap.
Zoro is another one that just stares at you when you walk across the ship
Lord help you if you wear a sun dress
You have almost all thongs so when you wear looser clothing your butt is free to move how it likes
Makes you do mostly leg workouts to watch you squat
Swears you’re doing it wrong just to be behind you when you do it
“No, Y/N you have to go lower like this.”
“Get Ya dick Off me!”
He does ask you such stupid ass questions about it though
“So it’s not heavy when you fight?”
“Zoro what the hell are you talking about.”
“All of…that you’re carrying behind there.”
Mf…
Sitting on his face or eating it from the back once is a must if you want to use his mouth
“Imma suffocate you.”
“It’s okay i can hold my breath really long.”
Zoro is a Ass man and you just made it worse so congratulations
Kid
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Same as Zoro. Eats dat ass for breakfast, lunch, and dindin
He enjoys watching you put on pants
“Something you need?”
“Just enjoying the show.”
He thinks your butt is nothing but temptation and something to distract him
Blames you for it completely because how dare you.
“PUT THAT AWAY!”
“WHAT?!”
“THAT BUTT OF YOURS I CANT FOCUS WITH IS SHAKING IN MY FACE ALL DAY—“
“HELLO—?!”
He has caught Killer watching. Killer tries to say he wouldn’t know because of his mask, but he know he’s looking right at your butt sway back and fourth
He uses it as a stress ball sometimes KSBSJSKS
Actually compares your butt with his
“Mine is bigger.”
“You mean flatter.”
“I hate you.”
Sanji
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Definition of “Don’t know what to do with all that ass.”
When he first met you he of course adorned your beauty. Granted you always worn baggier clothing than the rest of the girls on the ship, since you were a bit heavier and insecure Sanji didn’t give af about that anyways he still liked you, but after the 2 years you loss some weight and gained the strength and confidence you always deserved and finally started to wear more revealing clothing and which revealed your true shape.
“Y/N-Y/N SAN YOUR BODY IS—-YOUR BUTT IS SO—“
Bleeding on sight. You were wearing some cut shorts with a tied shirt and the shorts cupped your round butt so beautifully.
Crush him with your thighs and butt pls
When you walk you tend to sway your hips a lot making your butt move and it catches his attention so fast all he wants to do is rub it :((
He gets hard a lot when you wear bikinis
NEEDS a reason to touch your lower half at least once a day or he’ll combust.
“Would you like me to rub sun screen on you, my princess?”
His lotioned hands always tease around your smooth fatty cheeks when he massages you
Speaking of massages he gives you one every night and that either leaves him a horny mess or fucking into you from the back
You shook your ass on him once while dancing and he just COULD NOT handle what he seen and bled on you
“Please do me the honor of sitting on my face.”
Okay so…there was this one time Sanji fucked you in the kitchen and he asked if he could try something knew and you said okay, he bent you over and poured honey on your ass and licked it up.
You were shocked and turned on all at once.
When you wear skirts you’re such a damn tease to him the way the back of it always ends up shorter than the front and it always hits the bottom of your cheeks so beautifully
VERY PROTECTIVE BTW
Immediately kicks around mfs that say anything derogatory about your shape
“She has to be a slut with a body like t—-“
One to the head now you know he dead
Yeah Sanji and the rest of the OP boys do not play about people talking about your body. It’s theirs for a reason who is anybody allowed to talk crap about it?
Law
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He’s more of a thigh man but since you’re natural best believe you have those to match with them two beach balls you got back there
He always under estimates how you look in clothing.
“I don’t think this will fit—“
“It will It’s Just your unifo—-oh.”
Ass is still sitting pretty in a jumper.
Law’s stupid ass tends to read about bodies with larger mass of fat on specific areas and if it’s normal
NOT TO BE MEAN HE LOVES YOUR BODY HE JUST WANNA MAKE SURE YOURE COMFORTABLE AND HEALTHY PLS
He cuddles the butt and if your have stretch marks or cellulite he traces /pokes them with his fingers
“Stop that!”
“Your ass moves even when you talk, fuck..”
Absolutely cannot handle you doing reverse cowgirl
Cumming in minutes you didn’t even properly adjust to his size
He taps or plays with the fat of your thigh when he is in thought. So much so there is a small bruise that formed because he always did it in the same area
Wants you to sit on his face, but embarrassed to ask
DO NOT HOVER OVER HIS FACE HE HATES THAT SIT ON HIM.
You did it and he did the most obnoxious moan inside you
Makes you wear nothing but your panties when you both are alone.
Ace
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“Suffocate me with your thighs please I don’t want to be alive anymore.”
He uses your butt as a punching bag sometimes KSHSHSISK
Like you’ll be looking the other way talking to him and he’ll be behind you lightly punching each cheek for his own amusement
He wants you to wear his shorts so bad???
“I can’t fit them.”
“You can—look they stretch!”
He just plays with your butt a lot and like 90% of the time it isn’t even sexual he just loves the fat of your ass sm.
He thinks you look like a mf goddess with how your body moves when you dance
He absolutely loves when you ride him but he does it in front of a mirror so he can watch your wet ass bounce in him.
“Stop Doing that or imma sit on you.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”
When he hugs you from behind he tends to dry hump you and sometimes you don’t notice KSHSHSKS
Falls asleep on your ass
Has thought about eating your ass
He just really loves your ass
Shanks
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So. Many. Butt jokes.
He was drunk and barged into your room one night to find you laying on your stomach in your panties reading and kissed your ass
“Wha—?”
“I was craving something for my tooth so I kissed your butt…cuz you have such a sweet ass.”
You hate this man sm.
You have to sit on his lap once a day or he’ll pout. Literally pout all day.
Rubs your butt constantly when he is beside you.
Doesn’t give af who is watching because who gone stop him?
Another ass eater
HATES when other men look at your ass.
That’s his ass who tf are they to look and gawk over it?
Would prefer if you wore No panties when you wore skirts
Makes stupid excuse for you to bend over a lot
Absolute menace because he in fact an ass man
You’re actually the first woman he has been with with an ass like yours so when he sees it he sometimes gets flustered you never see it though.
Unlike Law doggy style and reverse cowgirl is the go tos. Your jiggly booty is his new treasure.
Dry humps you sm you swear he’s like a dog in heat.
When you guys go shopping he likes to be in the dressing room with you to watch you struggle to put on pants.
“Baby did you get the right size these feel too small?”
“No.”
“WHY?”
“Cuz look..” -casually pokes the fat that couldn’t get in the pants.- “sexy.”
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callmemaeverick · 2 months
Text
Gray
Disclaimer: This is pure indulgence okay. It's my interpretation of the Force, my view of the Jedi after ep 8, and my theory of what happened. P/S: pls read tag for TWs
PPS: If you didn’t know yet, Manny did a futuristic Sci-Fi podcast where he voiced a soldier. Theres quite a bit of injury involved.. if you wanna have some auditory aids for his voice and umm.. other stuff. It’s called Marigold Breach, it’s on Apple Podcast, Spotify, Realm and Youtube. (fork, I sound like an ad. Im not being paid I swear) WC: 1.6k
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Never before in the time you were intuned with the Force have you felt so lost. So… unbalanced. When normally, tasks and missions were approached in a calm and collected manner, with a clear and peaceful mind, it had since warped into frantic breathing and a thundering heart, engulfed in compromising emotions.
Every sound grated, every jolt of the ship you were flying felt like a quake and you scrambled to keep the small craft stable. You couldn't afford major turbulence, not with him in such a state.
But you went as fast as you could, desperate to get into lightspeed so that all traces of you and your passenger are gone. As far as you could, though you doubt that you would find a corner of the galaxy that could hide you both. They would find you, you know this to be fact. It would only be a matter of time.
Fear threatened to consume you and for once; you were tempted to let it. After what you have seen, after what you have discovered; the teachings of the Jedi no longer seemed as righteous as you once thought it was. You scoffed, feeling stupid. Not once did you ever question your environment or the teachings of the Masters' as you rose through the ranks, from fledgling to Padawan. You took their word as law. After all, they were the Jedi and you wanted to be just like them.
Now, the thought of the Knights you had so venerated left you angry and confused. Hypocrites; all of them. All they wanted was power. Power over the Republic. Power over the Senate. And they had the audacity to condemn those who wanted to keep power for themselves.
Screw them.
xxxx
The planet you randomly chose was amber in colour, ringed with a manageable asteroid belt.
You were never really good at landing. In your impatience, you would misjudge the thrust and would sometimes send the ship careening too fast. And it was always resulted in a bruised chest; and an even bruised ego after the lecture your Master would unleash upon you.
The thought of your Master sent a lance through your heart; but you pushed it away and fought to calm down as you attempted the landing. You had wanted to be gentle, to make it a smooth landing. You managed; barely. The moment you touched down, you were out of the pilot's seat and into the belly of the ship.
He was exactly where you left him on your cot, stomach down. Had you not been so intuned with him, had you not been able to hear his soft breaths, you could have sworn he was dead. He should have been dead.
The memory of what you witness in secret breached your mind. You remembered the shock you had to bite down, the scream you had to swallow when you witness what happened to him.
How could she do that, to her own Padawan.
Shaking your head of the dark thoughts, you pulled out the emergency kit, grabbing saline and gauze and bacta patches into your arms. On your way to him, you also grabbed an IV drip.
The smell of charred flesh turned your stomach and you swallowed to keep nausea at bay as you kneeled by his side. His tunic was in taters, pieces of the material burned and melted onto his skin. Dirt and mud slicked his back, mixing into the red exposed flesh. You choked down a sob. You whispered his name.
A soft groan reached your ears, then a gasp.
"No, no, don't move." You reached for his shoulder, grasping gently, and you could feel the muscles tightening. "Shh… I'm here. It's just me."
Recognition smoothed his features and your name escaped his lips before his eyes fluttered open. His hand lifted but before it could reach your face; his body spasmed and he cried out.
"Fuck," You moved quickly, gently peeling his ruined tunic from his body. The moment you made contact; he whimpered. His body shook with the agony and your heart broke once more. "I know… I know. I'll be quick, I promise." His back was torn violently, almost shredded, and the worst of the injury was where the wounds connect, overlapped. Burnt muscle was exposed, black and red and oozing blood. Apologies fell from your lips like a prayer, begging for forgiveness for what you are about to do. Then, you flushed a gauze pad with saline and as gently as you could, wiped down the dirt.
You worked as carefully as you could, ignoring his cries and sobs. His body tensed then shook then tensed again every time you touched him. "Almost there. I'm almost done," Your voice cracked, the efforts to hold back tears and nausea proving too much.
As the pile of soiled gauze beside you grew; the blood trickled to a stop and finally, you were able to place the bacta patch on him. "This will help, okay." You told him, but he had long since passed out. You were mostly talking to yourself. "It's going to be over soon."
Once the bacta was on, you sat back and finally let your tears fall. He was unconsciousness, but alive. Thankfully alive. Wiping your face with your sleeves, you stood up and finally initiated ground security protocols.
xxxx
Something was approaching. You looked back and all you see was darkness but you kept running.
Exhaustion weighed down on you. It had been days. Fear slithered in your chest, wrapping around your heart, constricting your lungs. Anger and shame flared inside you, threatening to consume.
A crack of lightning, and a snake lunged at you and your back seared in an unimaginable pain. White hot and blazing. You felt your flesh rip and your vision blacked out. And then, cold. Freezing cold.
You ended and you began.
xxxx
The gasp that tore through your throat hurt like a mudscuffer. You blinked, frozen for a few seconds before feeling came back into your limbs.
The thing about Force dreams was that they don't normally show you the good. Most of the time, it was almost always something dark. But a Jedi is supposed to control their emotions, to release one's self and let go. Selflessness, it was the mark of a true Jedi.
Despite you renouncing the Order, you went through the motions of calming yourself down, or reigning in your emotions.
It’s been a few days… or what felt like a few days. The planet cycle is foreign to you and you’ve essentially lost track of time.
You looked over at the other occupant of the ship and sighed heavily. He was twitching as well, in his sleep, something you were familiar with.
You walked over and gently checked on the bacta. It was one of your last supplies but at least it was working. The wound was healing. Scarred… but healing. There will be mobility issues and you doubt if he would ever get his full range of motion, much less the ability to swing a saber again. Still, you wouldn't put it past him. He is as stubborn as you are.
You remembered growing up with him, the both of you in the Academy.
He was strong. Both of you were, but unlike you, he was the nail that stuck out. Where you obeyed, and did as you were told, he questioned everything. Where you hid your true emotions, he was not afraid to let it show.
And you were glad for it. Had he not done what he had done, questioned and researched, poked and prodded, you wouldn't have seen the true face of the Jedi Order. You wouldn't have known that they were just as power-hungry and backstabbing as the rest of the pirates in the galaxy. They just covered it under the guise of the greater good.
But in the end, he was also the one who paid the price.
They did not know you stole a ship and followed them. They did not know you saw them string him up and strip him of his lightsaber.
You heard his terrified pleas but they fell on deaf ears when it came to his Master. And yours.
He was a child, barely 20 years old. You both were, but they did not see him anymore. The pupil they once treasured. In their eyes, he needed to be eradicated. Just because he wanted to draw power from a source that was forbidden to them.
The buzz of an activated saber drew your attention to the lightwhip of Master Vernestra and your eyes widened in shock. Surely, she wouldn't, you thought.
But you were wrong.
All it took was one strike and his scream would haunt your nights for a long time.
You waited until they left. You had to. And once you were sure they were no longer around, you rushed to his side. It was then you decided you were not coming back.
The sound of your name pulled you from your anger and you turned to see him watching you.
"You're causing a quake," He remarked, and the chattering of loose metal around you ceased. You took a deep breath and reigned it in.
You scooted closer to him and leaned in close. You took stock of him. He was pale but at least he was lucid. His dark brown eyes were clear, which was another good sign.
"So… the favored pupil… finally left the nest, huh? Didn't think… you had it in you."
And he was teasing you.
And it broke you. You drank him in like a person obsessed, trying to make sense of what you were feeling. Anger, fear, confusion, relief. And something else you couldn’t name. But they roiled together inside you making tears pool in your eyes and your lips wobble.
"What… What are we going to do?"
His touch on your face and your eyes closed. He was real. He was alive.
"We'll survive." He told you. "We'll survive."
FIN
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Note
I think this is where we ask for requests? but if it is shanks x reader fanfic ( fluffy pls! and SFW! ) if ur not uncomfortable with it!🤍
Hiii @iloveyoushanks Thank you so much for your ask (and for all your support on my stories! ❤️ I appreciate it very much!)
This was my first time writting for Shanks (excluding his appearance in the meet-cute series, but he's just a dad there, not a daddy 😏) so I hopeeeeee you like this! Totally SFW! Also, you didn't specify gender, so I kept it gender neutral, hope it's okay! Let me know if you liked it! 🙏 Thank you!
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Source for pic
Chasing Constellations
Word Count: 2490
Tags: SFW; gn! x Shanks; Fluff; Comfort; Camaraderie; Acting on crushes;
Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.
Summary: You are done dating boys, you want men. Your Captain claims to be man enough for you. But is he? And are you about to find out?
Notes: Be sure to check out my 100 followers event, as I will close requests on Sunday! Full disclosure, answers to requests may take a while! Thank you for reading this! I do hope you enjoyed it!❤️
Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn
Masterlist
“Want to come home with me?”
“Sorry, not today.” You answered with a warm, apologetic smile. 
The man who had been leaning at the counter next to you, all smiles and smooth words, cursed loudly as he turned away, slamming his glass on the wooden counter along with a few coins.
The barmaid sighed as she collected them. “Shame, he was sweet and easy on the eyes. Why didn’t you say yes?”
“I don’t know why, really. I guess I am done with boys. They don’t have the emotional maturity of a man.” You said with a scoff.
“Honey, when you’re dating pirates you can’t help but deal with boys. The only maturity they achieve is in size, not in behaviour.” The barmaid let out a hearty laugh while she poured another drink into your empty glass. “If you ask me, you’re much better off just hooking up randomly. Take ‘em, leave ‘em and be done with it!”
You laughed alongside her, her contagious laugh infecting you and your tipsy state allowing you to behave more freely than you normally would.
“That’s some sound advice there.” Shanks, your captain, clinked his glass with yours before downing it in one gulp. “Or just follow mine: date a real man!” He grinned, his smile creasing the corners of his eyes and forming a charming dimple on the right side of his cheek. 
The barmaid left you two alone as she tended to other patrons and you eyed your captain from top to bottom, humming in what seemed like an appreciative manner, leaving him to puff his chest at you like a bird attempting to mate. “A real man, you say?” He nodded and winked. “Well, when you find one, send him my way, please.”
Beckman, who was next to Shanks, snorted his drink through his nose as he banged his fists against the wooden counter in pure mirth. Shanks’s grin turned into a pout, his hand against his chest in mock hurt. “Ouch.”
“Yeah, you’ll get over it, aren’t you a real man?” And with that, you let a few coins drop onto the counter and turned to return to the ship. Your captain was funny, handsome, strong, intimidating and he could be very protective of you, even if you rarely needed him to help you. You got along great and had both been spending more and more time together, lately, but, even if you harboured the hardest of crushes on him, you would never consider dating him.
He was too much of a flirt, too much of a manwhore, too much of a player…
He was too much. 
Period.
Besides, he would never really be interested in you, right? 
-*-
Tossing and turning in bed, sleep kept eluding you. The cabin was too damn stuffy and your crewmates’ snoring - though normally nothing that bothered you - were driving you insane. If only they could all snore at the same rhythm instead of this dissonant cacophony! 
Huffing, you threw the sheets back and slid on some slippers on your bare feet, grabbing a light blanket to drape over your shoulders because the night and the sea breeze could be unforgiving. 
You found a cosy - secluded - spot by the deck, and sat down, leaning against the balustrade to gaze at the stars. They looked especially bright tonight and the sky was clear of clouds, leaving you with a beautiful painting-like picture to admire. 
Just as you were starting to relax, a deep sigh escaping your lips, you heard a roguish voice near you. “Couldn’t sleep? Or are you searching for your perfect man among the stars?”
You immediately smiled at his words as your eyes met his. A mischievous smirk painted his lips as he pointed up. “How about Orion? A legendary hunter, strong, skilled, muscular?”
You scoffed, your fingers entwining as you hugged your knees and Shanks sat beside you, still looking up. “Orion? The stalker?”
Shanks chuckled, making himself comfortable near you and you didn’t miss the way his leg brushed against yours. “You know your myths?”
“Please! I know myths and constellations! Orion pursued the Pleiades sisters who, in exasperation and desire to escape his endless pursuit, sought the help of Zeus, who placed them in the sky as stars so they could be free.” Shaking your head, you huffed in annoyance. “I don’t know what’s worse, running from someone who can’t take ‘no’ for an answer, or having it be written into a love story by someone who clearly doesn’t understand the concept of boundaries and personal space.”
“Message received!” Shanks chuckled as he scooted his leg away from you and you bit your lip. That’s not what you meant, his touch was quite welcome. If you ignored the fact that this was how he flirted with everyone!
Sensing the slight change in atmosphere, you decided to lighten the mood. 
“Besides, Orion is clearly fictional. If I'm trying to find a man, I need him to be real. Let's see, he was a giant, handsome, with great strength and hunting skills.” You cheekily stared at Shanks, your legs falling to the side in an effort to close the distance he had created when you spoke about personal space. 
Visibly relaxing with the return of your touch, Shanks winked, raising his hand and counting on his fingers. “Giant?” His laugh was cocky and filled with innuendo. “Check! Handsome and strong? Check and check again! Hunting skills? Baby, I'll hunt you down blindfolded in a forest. Try me.”
The huskiness of his voice caught you by surprise, holding your breath prisoner in your throat for a split-second before you both burst into laughter. 
“Well, he was also arrogant, boastful and prideful so that's another three checks for you, Captain.” You nudged him playfully with your leg and he laughed, holding his hand in the air. 
“Aye, aye, guilty as charged.” A moment passed as he scratched his chin, eyes fixed on the sky. “How about that one?” He pointed at another constellation, clearly challenging your previous claim of knowing your way around the stars. 
“Hercules?” He nodded. “Another strong handsome man?”
“I think you might have a type.” He laughed, letting his arm fall on the balustrade behind your head. The heat from his body made you aware of his proximity. “He was brave-...”
“Reckless!”
“He held a strong sense of justice and duty.” 
“Impulsive, short-tempered with anger issues…”
“A hero!” He finished proudly. 
“An idiot.” You replied with a smirk. “They might have been branded as heroes, but they were still boys, flawed, full of themselves, with almost no regard for others, let alone for a loved one.” Sighing you fixed your eyes back on the sky. “Not even heroes and myths are perfect men, Captain. This is an impossible task.”
This all started out as a joke. A simple answer to a question a barmaid - you'd most likely never see again - asked you. And now it has turned into a real dilemma. You were sick and tired of being toyed with. You did want a real relationship, but none of the men - boys! - you'd dated had been ready to commit. 
Shanks was older than you, supposedly wiser and more mature. But he was not boyfriend material, even if he was the perfect man. So he needed to stop this useless flirting if he wasn't going to follow through because your heart wouldn't take it. 
“Well, you've left out a perfect specimen.” He pointed up and you followed, a frown on your features, already regretting having indulged your captain in this banter. 
“Perseus?”
“Yes.” He answered, pride evident in his features for your correct answer. At least you managed to impress him with your knowledge of the stars. “He had no faults. Come on, I dare you to say something bad about him.”
You pondered, your chest rising and falling with a deep inhale, but Shanks didn’t let you speak. 
“He was brave, loyal, honourable, ingenious and resourceful! Plus, he saved his beloved from being eaten alive by a sea beast!” Shanks looked you straight in the eyes and moved his stump, trying to make you laugh again. “Luffy was not my beloved in that sense, but he was still a loved one. I'd say I check all the boxes!”
That did make you laugh, and the two of you shared a fit of giggles, lightening the mood. You could always count on your captain to make you laugh. As you both regained your composure, Shanks let the arm that was on the balustrade fall and land onto your shoulders, pulling you closer to his body, muttering that the night was quite cold and he didn’t want you to catch a chill.  
You didn't object, your head fell against his chest as you tried to blame the unexpected gesture on your slight tipsiness - though by now you were more than sober. 
“There's one fault I can think of about Perseus.” You whispered as a sigh escaped your lips when you realised how well your head fit against him. 
“Really?” Shanks sounded doubtful. His fingers dug into your arm, pulling you even closer, as if there couldn't be any gap between your bodies. 
“Perseus was described as youthful. Some legends say he was around fifteen when he slew Medusa. Others say that he was in his early twenties. A boy. Not a man.” Lifting your face slightly, you let your eyes meet his, a slight sadness pressed into them. “Forget it, Cap. I’m fine on my own. Even if they were perfect,” you pointed your finger at the sky, “they would still be out of reach.”
Shanks’ goofy grin, one he had been sporting since he began speaking to you, fell off his lips as his gaze locked onto yours, his pupils darkening and something else hidden, glimmering and pulling you in like a magnet. 
“Well, it’s a good thing I’m right here, then.” The hand on your shoulders travelled to your nape, fingers slipping under your hair, heat permeating your entire being. “And an even better one, I’m definitely not a boy.”
His eyes never left yours as he slowly leaned down. Your heart pounded incessantly against your chest and every fibre of your being told you to pull away, to flee, to run. This was Shanks! Your Captain! The eternal flirt!
“You’re not a boy, you’re right here… but you’re also a manwhore, Captain.” The soft chuckle that left his lips ghosted over yours, leaving a promise of what could be, if only you let it happen. 
“You know, some things are just myths… I bet Orion wasn't even a giant at all! Perseus courageously defeating a sea beast? I guarantee he was scared shitless! Me being a manwhore - as you so eloquently put it.” His lips brushed yours ever so slightly, an invitation, the opening of a door, leaving you to decide if you wanted to enter or not. “Most definitely a myth.”
“But you are as unattainable as one.” All you had to do was lean in. Just a little adjustment of your mouth. He was right there. 
“Not for you.” Somehow, his words rang true. You hadn't seen him bring anyone to his cabin in ages. Granted, he could still be seeing someone outside of the ship and then returning, but if you thought hard enough, he had barely been flirting with anyone. 
Except you. 
Breathing was hard. He was right there. Thinking was harder. His scent was intoxicating. Hearing was impossible. Your heartbeat pounded so loudly that there was nothing else to hear. 
“You’ll just break my heart.” You couldn’t find the strength to pull away, even though your words might say otherwise. 
“Try me.” It almost sounded like a plea, but it couldn’t be, because Captain Shanks didn’t beg. His fingers pressed into your hair, as if grounding himself and staving off the urge to pull you against his lips. “Please.”
Oh… 
Apparently he did beg after all. 
Shoving all doubts, insecurities and fears down to the pit of your stomach, you pressed your lips against his. Just a taste. A small peck. You were going to pull back, you really were, but Shanks’ hand spread across your nape as he pulled you against him with the hunger of a starving man. 
He tasted slightly of sake, the alcohol lingering on his tongue, making it slightly bitter. But mostly… he mostly tasted of excitement and adventure, of a blissful future and sweet moments. 
Suddenly, the stars were no longer in the sky, they were shining within your closed eyelids, supernovas exploding inside your chest, your head swirling at the speed of light. 
It was… 
“Perfect…” You muttered against his lips as he pulled back a little to let you breathe. Your foreheads pressed together, his hand moving to caress and cup your cheek. Why had you doubted this? 
Why had you doubted him? 
“Gods, I've been craving that kiss forever.” There was still hunger in his voice, but something else, something far sweeter. 
“What do you mean?” Your hands reached in as you pressed your fingers tentatively against his chest, pondering whether you should pull him closer, considering the implications of a second kiss. 
“I thought you were the unattainable myth. Not the other way around. You never gave two shits about me.” He made that familiar whine that told you he was playfully hurt. 
Your chuckle caught you by surprise, so much so that you let your head fall forward, nuzzling the crook of his neck and breathing in the tanginess of his skin, sea salt and sweat mingling into a dizzying aroma. 
“Maybe you should've asked sooner.” You spoke into his skin, holding back the urge to press your lips against it and test how soft it was. 
“Asked what?”
“What that guy asked me at the bar.”
“Oh…” You felt as he took a deep inhale against your head, his hand now placing soft circles against your back. “About wanting to come home with me?”
You hum softly. 
“Aye, aye.” He chuckled as his fingers travelled up to your chin to tilt it, allowing him to stare into your eyes. “So, do you?”
You weren’t about to make this easy on him. “Do I what?”
“Want to come home with me?” He kissed you between words, his lips pressing against your flushing cheekbones, then your closed eyelids, and finally your nose. A softness to his touch you didn't know he possessed. 
The warmth filling your cheeks could have answered for you, but you still nodded, arms circling around his neck, pulling him down toward you, lips merely a breath away. 
“Is that a yes?” He didn’t hide the giddiness in his voice, the slight joviality that your wordless agreement brought. The boyish grin on his face. 
And you didn’t reprimand him for that. Because for all the youthful attitudes your captain had, he truly was a real man.
And one you wanted to date.
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