#And I’ve gone on walks along the ocean but | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

halfvalid · 7 months

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the blade daughter, pt. 3

ABOUT

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

alternate title: dracule mihawk cures your daddy issues!

rating: mature

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!dracule mihawk | live action!straw hat ensemble

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 23.6k total | 7.3k this part

description: you finally soothe the uncertainty you've had surrounding going out and making a life of your own. somewhere inside, you find the bravery to finally tell zoro how you'd feel about him.

tags: mihawk's daughter!reader, female reader, canon-typical violence, cursing, no use of 'y/n', pet names per mihawk ('dear', 'darling', 'sweetheart', 'little hawk'), emotional hurt/comfort, slow burn, kissing, confessions, a lil suggestive at the end

author’s note: ANDDDD SHE'S DONE!!! this was a wild 8 day long ride of writing, i'm a bit uncertain about the ending so please tell me what you thought of it!! hopefully you liked the fic, thank u so so much for reading.

The two of you emerged from the room a little while later. You’d finished cleaning up, and Zoro had kept you company as you cleaned both his swords and Hiru. The both of you walked together afterwards, wandering into the kitchen where Sanji had whipped up a meal.

“We’re close to the Grand Line,” Nami reported, having apparently steered the ship far enough away from the other pirates to leave the helm alone. “Should reach the mountain by early morning.” She glanced over at you. “Kuraigana Island first, right?”

“Yeah,” you affirmed. “The Grand Line is… screwed, though.”

“We’ll be fine,” Luffy said brightly. You just shrugged, taking a seat at the table. “Zoro! Did you get everything cleaned up?” Zoro had changed into a fresh shirt, one not so bloodstained, and he gave a curt nod. “Good. Come and eat so we can get ready for tomorrow?”

Sanji passed you a bowl, and you let out a thin breath. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wondered how and when this had become your norm—it’d been a week with the Straw Hats, now, and—

You dropped your chopsticks in your hand. It’d been a week. “Fuck,” you said, the word dropping out from between your lips before you could stop them. Your entire body had gone rigid, pink flushing up your arms and face as something burned deep inside of you.

Everyone’s heads had snapped up to look at you, matching concerned expressions on all of their faces. “I, um—” you said, scrambling up from your seat, words too big in your mouth. You opted not to finish them, dropping your sentence as you yanked your shell phone out of your jacket pocket. “Sorry, I—”

You shook your head, hurrying out of the kitchen. The cold gust of the ocean breeze hit heavy on your face, and you let out a breath, the gust of air exhaling out of your chest in a rush. You heard footsteps behind you, but the panic hadn’t bled out of your veins entirely, and your hands shook as you tried to open your phone.

Zoro’s hand was pressed over yours before you could snap the case open. You stared down at it, and your gaze lifted, the tremble of your hands subsiding as his warm grasp sunk deep into your skin. “What’s up?” he asked, low and steady.

“I, um—” you swallowed hard, hitching breath soothing at his touch. “Um. It’s—I have to call my dad.”

Zoro was serene, tone even and still. His words from before echoed around in your head, the proclamation of not having patience. It’d been untrue after all. “Did something happen?”

“I’m supposed to have dinner with him,” you blurted. “Tonight. I’ve never missed it before. Because I’ve always been on the island, in our—I’ve never missed it before. I’ve been with you all for too long.”

“I’m sure he’d understand,” Zoro said, though his hand didn’t fall from yours. He paused, lips parted as his eyes ran along your face. “Or is it something you’re upset about?”

“I don’t have friends,” you whispered, words fierce. “I don’t go places. I stay at home. This life isn’t mine. It’s—”

“I don’t think you should dictate what you do based on what your father does,” Zoro interrupted. His tone wasn’t harsh, exactly—but it was strong, tone firm, jaw set as he spoke. “So you miss one dinner. So you’re out and about for longer than a week. Does it matter?”

Does it matter? Your heart pounded in your chest, and you took in a steady breath, trying to soothe the adrenaline that still pulsed in your veins even now. “I don’t… I’m not used to this,” you admitted, somehow managing to keep the contact of your eyes even as your brain screamed at you to look away. “I’m not used to being away from home.”

“Everyone starts somewhere,” Zoro said.

You hesitated. His hand moved carefully away from yours, nudging your fingers to open the phone. Your gaze dropped, staring at the little snail waiting for you inside, nestled in his little bed of velvet. You picked it up, tucking it into your ear as your shaking hands dialed Mihawk’s number.

He answered on the first ring. “Hello there, darling,” he said, and you closed your eyes, a soft exhale leaving your lungs at his voice. “Are you calling me about dinner? I’ll be there in a few hours, I promise. Just finishing up over here.”

“No, actually, um—” you cut yourself off, teeth coming down to halt your tongue. You opened your eyes, turning to glance tentatively over at Zoro. Does it matter? he had asked. Which… it did, right? You weren’t a part of the Straw Hats. You hadn’t joined their crew; you’d been insistent on that, pushing away any idea of a life out at sea in exchange for the comfort and familiarity of your home lifestyle. But you’d been making bonds with them despite, and helping them out with their ship, and fighting alongside them in battle. And you’d just patched up Zoro’s wounds a mere hour earlier. You didn’t make friends.

But you were making them.

“I’m not going to dinner this week,” you said, the words all slurred as they spilled from your mouth. There was a pause of surprise on Mihawk’s line before he spoke again. You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling Zoro’s gaze on you.

“Finally departed from the nest, have you, darling?” Mihawk said. His voice was soft—tender, almost. “Very well, then. Any idea when you’ll be on the island next, or shall we keep it a suspended date?”

“I should be home in a few days,” you said, voice hitching in your breath. “I’ll—I’ll call you! I don’t know what I’m going to do afterwards, but I’ll—I’m not going to just disappear.”

“Well, of course,” Mihawk said simply. You tightened the squeeze of your eyes, trying to suppress the tingling prickles at your waterline. “I’m glad you’re making friends, dear.”

You made a face, letting out a breathy scoff. A defense mechanism, really. “Don’t get mushy on me, old man.”

“Me? Mushy?” There was a staticky scoff crackling over from Mihawk’s side of the line. It was such a simple conversation, so—why was it driving you to tears? “I could never, darling, do you even know me? I’ve got to fly, anyway—there’s some pesky pirates around here I’ve got to deal with.”

“Bye, dad,” you said, the words choking up your throat, all raggedy at the edges, too big as you shoved them up and through your mouth. They grazed your tongue, but the points weren’t edges; they didn’t draw blood. “I—um.”

The Dracules did not say I love you. Your father was doting, certainly, but he expressed his affection in far more unspoken ways. Presents from all four Blues. A weapon of the highest caliber quality when you were thirteen. Personal lessons in sword fighting. The murder of anyone who dared send an off look in your direction.

“Me too, little hawk,” Mihawk said simply. “Now go have fun.”

The den den mushi let out a soft little croak, signaling that Mihawk had hung up. You let your hand fall, the fingers holding the case of your phone going slack. Air punctured your lungs as you inhaled, the salty, crisp breeze loosening your muscles with every breath.

“Are you alright?” Zoro asked. The words were gruff, awkward. Like he wasn’t used to saying them. You tightened your grip on your case, and then tugged the snail out of your ear, setting it carefully back where it belonged. You met Zoro’s gaze, heart thudding a bit faster as you saw flickers of concern in his eyes.

“Yeah,” you said. “I think I am.”

The sun shone bright on your face, the weather of the Grand Line being more forgiving today as the ship sailed carefully through the ocean. Your route was still towards Kuraigana Island, although you were growing more split about it by the second. You’d just had a conversation with Mihawk a day or so ago about you not being at the house—and the fact that you’d have to choose whether to go home and potentially never see the Straw Hats again was a decision that gripped heavy at your heart.

“Looks like you’ve got a lot on your mind.” You glanced up to see Zoro at your side, forearms propping at the Going Merry’s railing as he gazed out at the ocean. You shrugged, eyes flickering down his side profile before falling back to your hands.

“I don’t know,” you said. “Just thinking about what to do, I guess.”

Zoro fixed you with a look. “You should try not doing that.”

A startled laugh escaped your throat. “What? Thinking?”

“It gets old,” Zoro said with a firm nod, brow slightly creased to shield his eyes from the sun. “I’d recommend dropping it for at least a few hours. You’re getting wrinkles.” One of his hands moved upwards to nudge against your forehead, and you ducked, another laugh gracing the edges of your lips.

“Right,” you said, dubious. “How are your wounds?”

“I’ve taken worse,” Zoro said with a shrug. “Though I guess I’ve still got that one, huh.” He grimaced, lips tugging back to bare his teeth into a scowl. It took him a while to speak again, and you turned your gaze back towards the ocean, waiting for the unspoken words to leave his lips. Minutes ticked by, but you just basked in the sun, trying to air your mind of any thoughts. Maybe Zoro had a point, there—sometimes it really wasn’t necessary to think at all.

When Zoro finally spoke, his words were quiet; muttered under his breath. You had to strain to hear them, as the thin ocean breeze swallowed them up almost immediately. “I really thought I could beat him.”

You huffed out a breath, unsure of what to say. Unsure if Zoro even wanted you to say anything. Your grip on the boat’s railing tightening, palm running across the soft wood. You found words falling out of your mouth anyway, though, although you yourself were surprised by them—“You can.”

Zoro glanced up at you, surprised. “Maybe not now,” you hastened to say, not wanting to add to his clearly already-inflated ego. “But you’re good. You’re good enough to beat him, eventually. In a few years, given the proper time and training. I think…” You swallowed down the phlegm in your throat, alarmed by how wet your voice was starting to sound. You took in a breath, steadying your tone, making certain your voice wasn’t quite so thin or reedy. “I think that’s what scares me about you.”

“I’m sorry,” Zoro said, all low and hushed. You just shrugged.

“I don’t mind,” you answered. You felt his eyes on you, burning like a sun on fire, like the stars dotting his skin were crisping over your skin, charred and burnt and broken. Or maybe it wasn’t quite so destructive. Maybe it was a tender fire, crowning a pile of wood and cared for with iron stakes, embers glowing deep in the night to keep warmth fueling a pot of soup, or healing ragged hands after a long battle.

“Let me get you a drink.”

Zoro disappeared. He returned with a flask, handing it over to you after unscrewing its cap. You knocked it back—it was rich but bland, all dry and earthy. Sake. You’d pegged him more as a beer guy. “Thanks.”

Zoro’s gaze didn’t move from your figure. It was warm, you decided then. The swordsman was vicious at times, relentless in his fight, sinewy figure slashing cuts into flesh as he sparred with his enemies. But there was a distinction behind the hot, heavy iron of those glares at the look at which he placed upon you now. You couldn’t go as far to say his eyes were tender, or soft. But they were warm. Fire was a calamitous thing, but it had its blessings.

“Let me take you out,” Zoro said suddenly. Your entire body froze, murmurs of warmth and tingling buzzes pricking up and down your spine. Something inside you lurched—no, it didn’t lurch, didn’t have the unpleasant sensation associated with it. It was softer, burning, guttural. Like a sharp knife cutting straight through your abdomen, sliding into your stomach, prying apart the bones like they were putty. Your chest squeezed inwards, heart pulsating with soft pangs of something. Hunger; desire, maybe. Yearning.

“Why?” you asked. Zoro just shrugged, effortlessly casual in his movements. You saw a hitch in his throat, a flicker of something in his eyes, a strain in his jaw. Not so effortless after all. “Actually, more importantly—where?”

“I’ll figure something out,” Zoro answered. “Is that a yes?”

You turned, glancing up at him tentatively. “I’m not used to this sort of thing,” you said carefully. Zoro just shrugged. He still looked effortless, all guarded, but you could see the tremors and quivers underneath.

“Neither am I.”

You pursed your lips, raising your face to let the sun glow down onto your skin. “I have a rule, though,” you said, voice lifting up, more of a tease now. There was a ghost of a smile at the edge of your words, although your mouth wasn’t shaped in one. It was hesitant, careful not to scare you, really; creeping on you inch by inch. “I can’t go out with men who haven’t beaten me in combat.”

Zoro snorted. “I have beaten you,” he said. “But if you want a rematch—”

“Let’s not strain your injuries too much.” Zoro let out a scoff, but it was light-hearted, laced with amusement. You just shook your head, the dawning smile at the edges of your lips now, tugging them softly upwards. “I accept a loss when I get served one. You beat me, fair and square.”

“So I get to take you out now,” Zoro murmured, words careful, hovering in the air just barely out of his lips. He turned towards you, the sun outlining his face with a soft glow of gold and orange. He didn’t smile, but there was that soft, burning look again, lips slightly parted, taking in air. “That’s the rule, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you said. “It is.”

“Tonight, then,” Zoro said. “Ten. Aftercastle.”

You spent some time contemplating what to wear. You hadn’t brought a very expansive wardrobe along with you, only the essentials, so there wasn’t much to choose from—just some shirts and pants, no dresses or skirts in the bare bones of your luggage. You eventually picked out your favorite of the grouping, sliding your signature jacket on like usual, Hiru fastened securely in its scabbard at the back.

Zoro was waiting at the afterdeck when you arrived, dressed in a dark wrap shirt and his usual green obi. The cloth was nicer, though: his pants were missing their usual wear and tear, and his shirt looked to be made of finer cotton. “Hi,” you said, slipping up next to him. The tangerine tree’s leaves brushed at your ear, and you glanced up at it. The fruit was ripe, round and as bright orange as Nami’s hair.

“Hey,” Zoro replied. One of his forearms was propped against the afterdeck railing, and the other wrapped around the side. You put your hand beside his, pinky just inches away from his. “Do you know any constellations?”

“Some,” you said, squinting up at the sky. You could point a few of them out, but not many—the sky was cloudy tonight, most of the stars blocked out by dull puffs of gray and blue. “You?”

“No,” Zoro answered. “Was never really interested in that kind of thing.” He glanced over at you. You’d turned your attention on the trees, again, plucking one of the tangerines off the branches. The tree trembled, its leaves quivering with soft swaying motions. You dug your nails into the flesh, peeling it carefully. “Why’d you just stay home?”

“I don’t know,” you said with a shrug. “My dad used to not let me leave. He stayed with me until I was maybe twelve, for the most part. Then he started going out more, but he didn’t want me to come. Something about it being dangerous. He dropped the ban when I was sixteen, but…” you hesitated, tucking the shredded pieces of tangerine peels in your pocket. “I just kind of stuck with it, I guess.”

“Weren’t you lonely?”

“Kind of.” You broke the orange in half, moving on to pick at the pith with your fingernails. You gathered that up, too, little white lines piling up in the crease of your palm.

“Yeah, me too.”

“He always wanted me to leave, I think,” you said. “To find my own life. I was always happy staying there with him, though. Or waiting for him.”

“You wouldn’t be abandoning him by leaving,” Zoro said.

“Logically, I know that.” You peeled a piece of orange off from a half, offering it to Zoro. He took it, carefully pushing it between his teeth. He broke skin, a burst of piquant citrus juice dripping on his lower lip. Your eyes lingered there a moment too long, but you looked away a second later, speaking again. “I think it’s just a habit, really. I worry.”

“I mean, he’s a Warlord of the Sea. I think he can take care of himself.”

“It’s not that I’m worried about,” you said with a sigh. You popped a slice of orange in your mouth, sucking at the tart juice. “I don’t want him to get lonely.”

“That’s not really your responsibility,” Zoro answered. His pinky crept closer to your hand, from where you’d returned your grip on the railing. His touch was feather-light, a soft breath of skin against skin that was there and gone again within a moment. “Did you think any more about it?”

“I didn’t,” you said. “Took a page out of your book.”

“It’ll come to you eventually,” Zoro said. “Like that one Shanks guy said—actually, I don’t remember the quote. Ask Luffy about it in the morning. He’ll probably go on for a few hours.”

You snorted. “You’re kind of bad at giving advice, Zoro.” The name came easily, and you stopped, feeling the syllables on your teeth. It was comforting. Natural.

Zoro seemed a tad bit offended by that. “At least I’m trying,” he muttered, voice defensive but not hostile. “Onto lighter topics?”

You popped another tangerine slice in your mouth. “Like what?”

“Nothing light about my life, so I’ve got no idea.” You snorted, choking on the orange that’d made its way halfway down the passage of your throat. You coughed, shaky laughs escaping your lips as you cleared your airways. An amused smile had perched on Zoro’s face, eyes glimmering with warmth as he watched you.

“That was unnecessarily edgy,” you protested. You finished with your tangerine, letting the pith flutter out of your palm, some of the white floss sticking. You didn’t mind it.

“Got a laugh out of you, didn’t it?” Zoro nudged you, the skin of his finger pressing fully against your pinky. This time, he didn’t move away, letting the warmth of his skin bleed into yours.

“You never answered my question.” You raised your pinky, lifting it to brush against Zoro’s knuckle. Carefully, you slipped it into the gap of his interdigit, looping your fingers together so they were intertwined. Zoro exhaled shakily—you glimpsed his other arm moving away from the railing, lowering to his side. “Why you wanted me out here, I mean.”

Zoro pulled up a flask, unscrewing the cap with one hand. He didn’t drink, though, just held the bottle suspended in his hand. He didn’t say anything for a while, letting the soft rush of water from below and the tranquil rocking of the boat fill the silence. For a moment you thought he wasn’t going to say anything at all. To your surprise, though, he raised the flask to his lips, taking a short sip before letting his hand fall again. “You feel different.”

“Care to be a little less vague?”

“I don’t know if I can,” Zoro said carefully. His guard was up, that much was sure. You didn’t exactly blame him. “Things have changed since I joined Luffy. Sometimes I can’t describe it.”

“The crew,” you said. “It makes sense.”

“It does,” Zoro agreed. There was something magnetic about it, about him—something that drew you in. But you weren’t afraid of it, really. The Straw Hats weren’t scary. Their bared teeth weren’t fangs; their canines remained unsharpened at their maw. Their lure was more peaceful than that. “We like you. You fit in.” He paused, mouth slightly ajar, a tremor of something on his lower lip. “I like you.”

Your lungs were empty, devoid of air. Something in your chest clawed at you, trying to climb up your throat, compressing your organs. Zoro’s touch burned into you, interlocked fingers searching an imprint in your skin. You were certain you’d feel it for hours; days; months; years after. “I think I like you too,” you said.

“Well, you like my earrings,” Zoro said easily. “That’s a start.”

You turned towards him, at his open stance, tucking yourself in the space between his figure at the side of the ship. The motion forced Zoro to raise your hands away from the railing, but he slid with the action easily, fingers fully interlacing with yours. His other arm remained propped along the ship, flask in his fingers, the skin of his forearm brushing against your side. Your free hand raised up to skim along his earrings, dull clinks of the metal sounding out at the emotion. “I do like your earrings.”

“Enough to let me kiss you?”

You tugged gently at Zoro’s earlobe, angling your face up to meet his. “Yeah.”

Zoro kissed you square on the mouth, mouth full and open, hand slipping around your back. The edge of his sake flask dug into your spine, but it wasn’t a sharp pain, and you didn’t mind it. Your fingers tightened against Zoro’s, chasing his lips with yours, letting him swallow you whole. He was patient with it, smooth and languid; tongue licking into the crevices of your mouth, firm as he mouthed kisses at the lines of your lips.

You breathed in from his lungs, chest getting tight as he sucked the air clean out of you. Still, you were addicted, utterly devoted as his fingers nudged against your hand and his tongue skimmed along your mouth. He was a good kisser, effortless and smooth, nearly elegant with his motions. He tasted like sake; earthy, woodsy, reminiscent of some sort of mushroom, maybe. It suited him well.

You let out a little whimper as Zoro’s tongue pressed deep to your throat, and he swallowed it up, flicking lazily along the roof of your mouth. You were getting short of breath, though, so you placed a gentle litany of faint kisses along his mouth before tilting your head back and letting the night air puncture your lungs. Zoro’s pupils had gone wide, deep black swallowing the walnut of his irises. His hand pulsed against yours, steady as ever, but he didn’t speak.

“I like more than your jewelry,” you said, staring down at where your fingers tangled with his. They looked like two pieces of a puzzle, extremities manipulated to slot along each other, palms molded together. “I like the way you move, and the way you fight. I like your face.” You hesitated, playing with Zoro’s fingertips to distract you from your words.

“You don’t have to say it,” Zoro said.

“No, I think I do.” A ghost of a smile flickered up your mouth; a corpse, really, one that had forgotten it wasn’t really dead after all. “I like you, Roronoa Zoro.”

Zoro’s fingers squeezed tighter against yours. There was no click, no noise of finality, no settlement of a suspended thread. You supposed it didn’t work like that. Life didn’t stop and end. You went on. You’d see Zoro in the morning, again, after you’d gone to sleep, and things would continue like normal. “Okay,” he said. “Late enough for you to go to bed, yet?”

“I could go either way,” you answered. “Staying out here wouldn’t be so bad either.”

“Fine by me,” Zoro said, not moving from where he stood. “So, Lady Dracule. Where to next?”

“Wherever the breeze takes me,” you answered, but there was a decision settling down in your chest. One you weren’t so afraid to look at anymore.

Kuraigana Island was just as you’d left it, sky dark as night even in the middle of the day, rotted ground crunching dust and rocks underneath your feet. The Going Merry had docked in one of the number of homemade boat berths Mihawk had made sometime in your youth.

Usopp let out a low whistle as the Straw Hats stepped onto the island, head practically turning around in a 180 degree spin as he craned his neck to look around. “You live here?”

“It’s quaint,” you said defensively.

Nami gave you a sympathetic look. “It really isn’t.”

“Why is the sky black?” Luffy murmured in amazement, casting his gaze upwards to the overhang of rumbling clouds that existed perpetually over the island. “Have you never seen sun in your life?”

You rolled your eyes, leading them through the gravelly path up to your house. Their reactions were, well, nothing short of the expected—Sanji’s eyebrows lifted, and Zoro let out a low whistle as he took in the sight.

“It’s like Kaya’s house,” Usopp breathed. “But… bigger. And more spiky!”

“It needs a paint job,” Nami deadpanned. You snorted.

“I’ve been trying to get him to renovate for forever. Good luck.” You cleared your throat, suddenly awkward as the group walked closer and closer to the house. Your footsteps slowed, until you came to a full stop a few meters off the front door. The Straw Hats grouped around you, curious. “Just… don’t be weird, please. Nami, don’t steal anything unless it looks like it hasn’t been cleaned in thirty years. I only bother to polish the important stuff.”

“Is that an open invitation to rob your house?” Nami asked with a snort.

“Do you have any food?” Luffy asked.

“Probably not. My dad can’t cook for shit. Sanji can make something,” you said. “Our kitchen’s kinda nice.”

“Working in a Warlord’s kitchen? I’d be honored,” Sanji said, with a little flourish of his hand. You rolled your eyes, but Luffy at least seemed satisfied. You glanced over at Zoro, who was the only one of the group who hadn’t said anything up to now—his lips were set into a thin line, but he met your gaze, and they flickered upwards just a quarter of an inch. The action was reassuring, almost, and you were soothed enough to start walking again.

The door flung open before you reached it, although the sudden motion didn’t startle you like it did to your compatriots. Dracule Mihawk stood in the doorway, dressed in his usual hat and jacket, Yoru heavy off his shoulders like usual. “I thought I heard footsteps,” your father trilled, voice wonderfully monotone as he bent in front of you, taking your hand to press a gentle kiss upon your knuckles. “Have you brought your friends along, darling?”

“Clearly,” you said with a soft laugh. It was like all the tension evaporated from your body as soon as your father got near, and you found his hand, giving it a tight squeeze before turning to your friends. “Do you need introductions, or do you know them all already?”

“I only remember the future pirate king and the swordsman,” Mihawk said with a dismissive wave. “Oh, and Yasopp’s child. It’s no matter, really. Well, come on in, you’re letting in the cold air.”

Usopp stuttered something incomprehensible about his father, but Mihawk had already disappeared. You glanced over your shoulder at the rest of the Straw Hats. “He’s like that,” you said apologetically. “Just… come in.”

They followed you into the house, glancing around the lobby to take in the decor. You had to admit, a lot of it was rather gaudy, but it wasn’t like Mihawk cared much about what adorned the walls, and you had little resources to work with. Sanji made quick work moving to the kitchen after you made sure that Mihawk hadn’t prepared dinner.

“So,” Nami said, the words mulling around in her mouth as she lounged by the kitchen island. “Nice place.”

“It’s kinda scary-looking,” Luffy said honestly. “Interesting choice of decoration. I guess if you like it, though.”

“Are you okay on your own for a moment?” you asked, getting up from your seat. “I’m going to go talk to my dad.” Luffy nodded, and the others all hummed their assent. Zoro caught your gaze—soft, curious. You just gave him a reassuring smile and slipped out of the room.

Mihawk was waiting in the living room, long body stretched supine along the couch, booted feet thrown up on the arm. You narrowed your gaze at it. “Don’t put your feet on the furniture,” you grumbled.

“Sorry, dear,” Mihawk said, though he made no move to alter his position. “Did you end up getting that jacket for me?”

“I did,” you said, glancing through the satchel that hung at your hip. You pulled it out, folding it with a solid shake and holding it up for Mihawk to see. His golden eyes flickered up and down the garment, taking in the material. Black cotton twill, with red paisley silk as the lining, delicate red lace at the hem and sleeves. The lapels were wide, buttons shiny and black, and it used red stitching rather than black, giving a sort of exoskeleton look to it. Mihawk sat up, pushing his hat back.

“It’s beautiful, darling. I love it.”

You folded the jacket in half, slinging it across the back of the sofa before moving around to face Mihawk fully. “About the crew.”

Mihawk glanced up to meet your eyes. “Yes?”

“I…” you took in a breath, the inhale shaky in your lungs, bones and muscles rattling in your chest. “I think I’m going to stay with them for a little while, if you’re okay with it.”

“The Straw Hat crew,” Mihawk said carefully, shaping the words on his mouth, tasting them on his tongue. “My daughter, part of the Straw Hat crew. Well, it’s not the most terrible-sounding thing to say, I suppose.” He paused. “No idea why you’d think I wouldn’t be okay with it, though, sweetheart. I’m not horrendous.”

“Well, I figured—” you started, voice trailing out into a protesting whine. “You’d be against them? Garp sent you after them. One of them tried to kill you.”

“Oh, you know I don’t hold grudges over such trifling matters,” Mihawk said with a dismissive wave. “Roronoa Zoro, right? He was watching you the entire time you entered. Wouldn’t take his eyes off you, darling.” There was a particular glint in his eyes, hunted, like he was searching for a quarry. “Something to tell me?”

“No,” you said, too fast. Mihawk lifted both brows, and you broke almost easily. “Maybe. No. He’s—no.”

Mihawk clucked his tongue, sounding amused. “I suppose your rebel streak was bound to come out eventually. And from what you told me, he did beat you, so I can’t exactly complain.” You flushed, warmth heating up your skin, bringing a rosy blush to your cheeks. “Make sure he doesn’t get himself killed before I can fight him again, will you, little hawk? I’ve got my eye on that one.”

“Okay, dad,” you muttered, but the tension of your shoulders had gone slack, and your muscles were loose.

“Will you be leaving after dinner, or will you stay until the morning?” Mihawk asked, standing up to his full height. He stretched, sinewy limbs long and supple. He looked nearly odd without Yoru perched along his back. “I’ve missed you.”

“Morning,” you answered. “I’ve missed you too, dad.”

Mihawk smiled at you. “Go make sure our guests aren’t burning down the kitchen.”

Dinner was less of an awkward affair than you’d expected. Usopp spoke the most through it, and Mihawk was fine to goad him on, occasionally switching topics to inquire about the rest of the crew.

Sanji had made a fine meal; a grilled steak and onions with a side of asparagus to some kind of white sauce pasta you didn’t recognize. It felt… nice, really, having them all around you. Mihawk certainly knew how to socialize, and Luffy didn’t seem to mind his acerbic tendency.

“And after I defeated all the enemy pirates,” Usopp was rambling on, “We hit a cannon straight into their mast, and it came crashing down! Oh, you should’ve seen it, man. It was me—well, Luffy—I guess he was the one that chucked the guy into the ship, or whatever. It wasn’t actually a cannon, but the details aren’t that important—”

“What about my little hawk?” Mihawk interrupted, and you had the vague sense to start whining. “I don’t suppose she just sat there throughout the whole fight.”

“Oh, nah, she got some guys too I guess,” Usopp said, lazily waving an arm in the air. “She’s the one who stationed me at the cannon, she knew how great I was at it. She almost died to this one big dude—”

“I did not almost die!” you snapped. Usopp cackled out a hearty laugh.

“No, she totally did. Thankfully for her, the great Captain Usopp came to her rescue—”

“Me,” Zoro muttered, words barely audible as he spoke them into his cup. You cracked a smile, and he glanced up, catching your eye. A tender look crossed his face.

“Okay, yeah, it was Zoro who saved her,” Usopp admitted. “Cut the guy’s head straight off his body. But that’s just because I was busy fighting off the other pirates!” He motioned with his hands, mock-punching the air in front of him.

Mihawk just raised his eyebrows. “Did he, now? I hope you thanked him properly for that, sweetheart.”

You shot Mihawk a warning look. “Dad.”

Mihawk didn’t let that faze him, raising his glass of wine to his lips. “You might want to take him around the island. There are some fairly romantic spots here, ones I brought your mother to while she was pregnant,” he said, mouth around the rim of his glass. You flushed, resisting the urge to lunge over the table at your father—clearly, he could see your vexation, mirth dancing in his eyes.

Zoro didn’t say anything, eyes tilted downwards like there was something particularly interesting in his cup. Nami and Sanji were murmuring things to each other, and Sanji raised his voice to speak.

“I knew there was something between the two of you! Come on, Lady Dracule, you could do so much better than the mosshead here—”

“Shut it—” Zoro started.

“You most certainly did not know, and you owe me fifteen hundred berry for that!” Nami said, offended. She elbowed Sanji firmly in the ribs, and he let out a low cough. Her head spun towards the head of the table, where Luffy was sitting across from your father. “Luffy, tell your cook to honor his bets.”

“You bet on us?” you demanded, a squeak of embarrassment entering your voice as you protested. Nami gave you a look.

“Please. You were obvious.”

“Well,” Sanji jumped in, “Personally I thought you had better taste than—”

“I said shut it, waiter,” Zoro said, finally looking up to fix Sanji with a glare. He tilted his head to the side, one eyebrow raised, and you stifled a laugh. “And if I were you, I’d give Nami her money as soon as possible.”

“This is so unfair,” Sanji muttered, but he fished a wallet out of his pocket and slapped a few bills onto the table. “There you are, madam. I hope you’re happy.”

You groaned. “At the dinner table, really?”

“Money waits for no one,” Nami said with a little wink, tucking her winnings carefully into a pocket of her skirt.

“Sanji, did you make dessert?” Luffy wondered. Sanji rolled his eyes, but the sigh he let out was kind and good-natured.

“Well, lucky for you, I did have the mind to bake some cookies while here.” He got up from his seat. You just gave him a dubious look; everyone had more or less finished with their food, though, so you got up, collecting the dishes to wash.

You did chores, Nami hanging around you and lending her aid while the other Straw Hats got comfortable in guest rooms or whatever else. Zoro hadn’t budged from the dining room, apparently not interested in exploring the different parts of your house—you could just barely see him out of the kitchen doorway, nursing his drink as he stared thoughtfully into the distance.

The familiar shape of your father’s jacket joined his side, and you narrowed your eyes, straining to hear. Mihawk had bent over the table, a pleasant smile on his face as he spoke. He didn’t bother to speak quietly, so everyone in the near vicinity heard his words— “If you hurt her, I won’t show the mercy I did the first time. My little hawk’s more important than finding a worthy opponent.”

“Dad!” you snapped, dropping the plate you were in the middle of washing. Mihawk didn’t even look in your direction, even as you stormed out of the kitchen to stand protestingly by the mouth. “Don’t—”

“Oh, hush, dear,” Mihawk said with a dramatic eye roll. “I’m off to bed, then. I’ve got business in the morning.” He came over to you to brush another kiss along your knuckles. “I’ll be gone before you wake up. Safe travels.”

“Good night,” you said with a sigh. Mihawk left, then, disappearing around the bend of the corner to head off to his room.

“...I still don’t really forgive him for almost killing Zoro,” Nami said warily. Zoro got up from his seat, moving over to where the two of you had gathered in the kitchen. “But your dad’s fine, I guess. Not terrible, as far as fathers go.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, then glanced apologetically towards Zoro. “I’m sorry about him.”

“It’s fine,” Zoro said with a careless shrug. “It’s getting late. I’ll walk you to your room.” You nodded, drying your hands on a nearby kitchen towel and prompting Zoro to follow you up the steps. The house was large, a castle, really; all dark and winding, with long corridors and tall ceilings. Your bedroom was grand, on the second floor, with a sweeping balcony and wide windows that bore a full view of the island’s perpetual darkness.

“What’d you say?” Zoro asked, stepping into the room. He glanced around, but didn’t remark in his surroundings, turning instead to look over at you.

“I told him I’d be joining the Straw Hat pirates,” you said. Zoro smiled at that, the edges of his lips curling up.

“Good,” he said simply. You moved towards him, forcing him to back up until he reached the plush of your bed. He sat down, eyes not flickering away from yours, soft brown that held an entire universe in them. Planets lined his cheeks, spatters of galaxies that you thought you might revolve inside. “Living here for years alone doesn’t seem like the most interesting life.”

“It was fine while it lasted,” you said, bending your head down, lips hovering over his. Zoro’s hand came up to press firmly along your waist. “I think I like the ship a bit better, though.”

“Hm,” Zoro murmured, eyes on your mouth. He tugged you down, but the kiss he pressed against your lips was chaste, and he was leaning back again before you knew it. “I decided, by the way. On whether I wanted your dad to like me or not.”

You arched a brow, thinking back to that night so long ago when you’d first heard the words on Zoro’s lips. I’m not sure if I want him to like me. “Well?”

“I do,” Zoro said, nudging against your chest, chin bumping along your shoulder. “It makes sense, with you.”

A comfortable silence filled the space. His thumb ran a tender circle along the skin of your torso. “I should probably pack,” you murmured.

“Eh, you’ll have time for that later,” Zoro said dismissively. You laughed, the sound full, straight out your throat.

“Do I, now?” Zoro’s lip quirked, eyes grazing over your figure. You prattled on as if you didn't even notice. “Did you have something else in mind? You realize after this we have all the time in the world to be together—”

“I told you I was impatient,” Zoro interrupted, and then he was tugging you down, pressing a full kiss to your mouth again. You parted your lips to argue, but Zoro just took that as an opportunity to side his tongue in, and, well—this wasn’t so bad, either. One of your hands came to tangle in his hair, nudging his head just the slightest bit upwards to allow you better access. Zoro’s thumb didn’t stop making lazy revolutions into your skin. “Doesn’t seem like you mind.”

“Shut up,” you mumbled against his lips. You leaned forward, pushing him back onto the bed, before pausing to lean down and unfasten the straps of his shoes.

“You’re a real charmer.” Zoro didn’t complain, though, seeming more than pleased when you returned to kiss him, allowing him to fall back onto your bed now that you’d shed him of his footwear. “Little hawk, huh?”

You huffed out a breath. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s cute,” Zoro said casually, one arm coming to prop behind his head. He drank you in properly, this time, from where you were on your knees on the mattress, unstrapping your own shoes before joining him up on the bed. “You are.”

You met his eyes, and a flicker of warmth crossed over your heart. For a soft, silent moment, you let it breathe. Let it exist there. Let the realization that you may one day love this man fill your soul.

“Come here,” you said, climbing over to Zoro even as you spoke. “I’m going to kiss you again.”

Zoro just grinned.

The Going Merry was just as you’d left it, although Mihawk had provided you with any extra provisions the crew might’ve wanted for the rest of your journey. You’d packed up and brought along your stuff, too, managing to finally decorate your cabin in the ship more to your likeness. Everything was ready, and you stood at the edge of the aftercastle, Zoro to your side as you stared down at the island you’d called home for all the years of your life.

But Kuraigana Island wasn’t your only home anymore, and neither was the hawk eyed man who resided in it whenever he was not busy doing something else. Mihawk had left in the early morning, but the ghost of his presence still warmed you. This way, it was easier to let go, you thought. This way, it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.

“Casting off!” Luffy yelled, his voice puncturing the stillness of the island air from his usual spot on the goat at the ship’s bow. You turned away from the island, jacket lapping around your legs as the wind whipped against it.

“Ready to go?” Zoro asked carefully.

“Yeah,” you answered, turning away from the island. Zoro stood to your left, one hand perched on the hilt of his sword, the other relaxed at his side. His brows were creased, strong against the shimmer of the glinting sun just barely peeking through the darkness of the island.

The fog washed his features in blue, all blurry around the edges, but you couldn’t help but think he was the most beautiful man you’d seen anyway.

“I’m ready.”

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

taglist: @untoldshortsofthefandoms @ellisaworld @yeonieesss @sarcastic-sourwolf @rouzuchan @dashcrashbash @blossomedfloweroflove @ fangeekkk @winuvs @katiemrty @asexualimmortal @fayetheenthusiast @freedom-kitty @ren-ni @je4nc4tb0y @dwcode @albedosfiance @13-09-01 @dimplewonie @cellgore @ shabzy1644 @applepie972 @mayo0ma @smoochesfromlevi @ csmbrainrot @intoanothermind @junieloonie @yourlocalgoose @swthrxrry @lovefooi @dailybrekker @taeriffic @xxemmarldxx @alastorswife63 @butterfliesinthenightsky @mukeovernetflix @wonuskie @mysingularitybts @sorasolarium @chaitea-69 @wishyouwere-sober @mchlist @bibi-bieber-winchester @prowkarma @loveyluv7 @hhighkey @jesssssmaybankk @threadofdestiny @hinata7346 @thevampiricprincess @wreckmyimage @prettyinsatiable @fairygirl18 @idcalol @bangtannie7 @carav4l @kookie-doughs @bluesiebirdie @endeaz @q8852p @addisonwilkins1 @louweasleymalfoy @alelovesmitski @fnlyroe @swthxrry @jamieeboulos @scarletrosesposts @jesssssmaybankk @vonpeachy @sincerely-aaronette @tsubaki3192

author's note: i also wanted to pop in and say that i'm not opposed to writing more fics/oneshots of this character and in this universe (hereafter referred to as md!reader) with zoro <3 if you guys have any requests pop them in my box when my requests are open, plus i may write some on my own time too!

#opla zoro #opla roronoa zoro #opla #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x you #reader insert #x reader #one piece live action #one piece netflix #one piece live action x reader #one piece live action x you #opla fanfic #opla zoro x reader #opla x reader #opla fanfiction #dracule mihawk #kiki writes!

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sluttywonwoo · 6 months

Text

instead of you [part thirty] || l.mh

pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, mentions of menstruation, pain, smut (mdni)

word count: 3.6k

a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!

series masterlist | early access to the next chapter on ko-fi

additional smut warnings: face sitting, protected sex, multiple orgasms

That night, Jisung took you to a pharmacy that was right by the resort. It was within walking distance but since you had a bad foot, you took a cab. He tipped the driver extra to leave the meter running and stay parked outside while you ran in together to grab what you needed, and then tipped him again when you made it back to the hotel since the whole journey was more of an inconvenience than an actual ride.

After taking a shower, you soaked your foot like Amir had instructed you to and then fell asleep almost immediately. Surfing had completely sapped you of all of your energy, even without the whole sea urchin incident.

Everything hurt when you woke up. It felt similar to the morning after having sex with Minho for the first time but ten times worse. You groaned as you rolled over, the sound splintering off into a whimper when you tried sitting up.

“Quiet, they’re going to think we’re messing around in here,” Jisung said, shushing you. You’d woken him up with your noises.

“Can’t help it,” you grumbled back.

“Sore?” he asked.

“Incredibly.”

“It’s brutal after your first time.”

“I’ve gathered that.”

“I’ll grab you some ibuprofen and a glass of water.”

“Thank you.”

The morning was spent lazily. Jisung made breakfast for everyone and you all ate together in the kitchen, listening to Dom explain the concept of the new book he was writing. You couldn’t really follow the plot but you still nodded along like you did and let the boys do all of the question asking.

After breakfast, everyone got ready for the day and met in the lobby where you were picked up by a cab and taken to a marina. Jisung had told you that you would be snorkeling most of the day, but you hadn’t expected it to be deep sea snorkeling. The idea was a bit daunting but it turned out that it wasn’t actually as deep as the name suggested. The water was clear enough to see everything and the ocean floor was only about thirty feet below you.

The captain of the boat you’d taken out to this spot had assured you that the area was shallow and full of marine life.

“We just like to take visitors out here because it’s less busy than right by the shore,” he said.

Obviously, the man knew what he was talking about. The snorkeling was one of the highlights of the entire trip thus far for you. You had never seen so many fish in one place before, or coral for that matter. Everything was so vibrant that it felt right out of a page of NatGeo. It was nice just to be able to relax and let the water carry your body weight as you floated on the surface, especially since you were still so sore. You barely had to move at all. It was so peaceful that you almost fell asleep in the water.

The only thing that startled you out of your half-asleep daze was Minho purposefully splashing you as he swam past you.

You broke the news of your newfound dedication to celibacy to him once you got back to the resort that night. You’d stayed up to finish a movie with him after everyone else had gone to sleep and he’d invited you back to his room as soon as the credits rolled.

“I just can’t keep going behind Jisung’s back,” you explained.

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me,” he replied. You could tell he was disappointed but was trying not to let it show. You were disappointed too. You’d only slept with him twice but it was some of the best sex of your fucking life and you didn’t want to just throw that away. “Any reason to want to stop is reason enough, and it’s not my business,” he added.

“It kind of is, though,” you reasoned with a sigh. He just shrugged. “I just thought you deserved to know.”

“Thanks for being honest.” He stood from the couch unceremoniously and turned back to you. “Uh, goodnight, I guess.”

You didn’t respond right away, taking a moment to admire the way the light from the television illuminated his features.

“Goodnight, Minho.”

You cringed inwardly at how weak you sounded, forcing a polite smile. The second his back was turned you started rethinking everything. Were you really going to let him just walk away?

“Wait-” you called out after him. “One more time couldn’t hurt, right?”

Your back hit the mattress as soon as the door shut behind you, Minho having pushed you onto his bed at the same time. You bounced a little, giggling as he jumped on top of you. He moved his way up your body until he was able to kiss you, sliding a hand under your head to lift you up to him. You kissed him back eagerly, slipping your tongue into his mouth as soon as the chance presented itself. Minho moaned quietly and you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer.

“We have to be quiet,” he reminded you after breaking away from the kiss. “Felix is right next door.”

You nodded. “I can be quiet.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

“Mhm, you’ll just have to find something to keep my mouth busy.”

“Fuck.”

He began undressing you slowly, taking his time with you like you knew he liked to do. You were already in your pajamas so everything came off easily. Your t-shirt, your stolen boxer shorts that Minho had probably once thought to be his brother’s, your panties. You were lying naked underneath him in no time.

“I’m off my period, by the way,” you added.

“You know I don’t care about that.”

“Yeah, but I thought you’d want to know… just in case.”

He narrowed his eyes, not following. “Just in case… of what?”

You sighed and flung your arms to the side dramatically. “Oh my god, are you really going to make me spell it out for you?”

“Spell out what?” he hissed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! I already told you I don’t care about whether you’re on your period or not.”

“Okay, but there are certain things you can’t do on your period.”

“Like what?”

You rolled your eyes. He really was hopeless. At this point, you weren’t sure if he was actually oblivious or being obtuse on purpose. You had been under the impression that Minho liked eating pussy but maybe he had just been pretending to enjoy it for your benefit.

“Do you want to go down on me or not?”

His eyes widened in realization and he nodded eagerly. “Oh, you should’ve just said that.”

“I was trying to!”

“You kept skirting around it!” he argued.

“I didn’t want to say it outright…” you trailed off.

“Why? Are you embarrassed?” He was teasing you and you knew it.

“A little,” you admitted. “I’m not used to asking for what I want.”

He smirked, leaning down to kiss you on the mouth as he answered. “Well, you’d better get used to it.”

You were tempted to tell him it was pointless since this was the last time you were going to sleep together but you didn’t want to bring the mood down so you just nodded into the kiss and tried your best to forget about the depressing reality.

He broke away again, this time to take off his own clothes. You watched him pull his shirt over his head, bottom lip between your teeth as your gaze trailed the defined lines of his body.

“You’re so gorgeous,” you whispered, allowing yourself to reach out and touch him. Your fingers followed the same path as your eyes had and Minho shivered beneath your touch. You expected him to quip back with something smart, something to defuse the sincerity in your voice, but he didn’t. Instead, he pushed his hips forward so that he could grind against you.

A moan caught in your throat and you arched your back, meeting him halfway. The fabric felt good on your clit and the motion of his hips created the friction you had been searching for but you were worried about staining the material. You were already turned on, and your arousal was only building as Minho kissed his way down your neck. You would be mortified if there was a noticeable wet spot on the front of his pants when he pulled away.

For Minho, though, that seemed to be the last thing on his mind. His hands roamed your body like he was trying to memorize each and every curve, like he was an artist, committing your figure to memory so that he could sketch it in graphite once you left his bed.

“Did you want me to?” he asked suddenly.

“Want you to what?”

“Eat you out?”

You shifted a bit on the bed, shy all of the sudden. “Um, only if you want to.”

“Of course I want to, but I wanted to make sure you wanted me to.”

“I don’t know any girl who would turn that down,” you said, half chuckling, then rushed to add, “well there are some people who don’t like it, or prefer other things over it, you know? Or can’t enjoy it because they’re insecure and I mean, I’m not one of those people but-”

“Baby,” Minho cut you off. “A simple yes or no is all I need.”

“Yes. Please.”

Minho grinned and leaned back in to kiss you. “You’re cute.”

You didn’t have it in you to argue so you just pouted as you accepted the kiss. Minho groaned into your mouth, hands coming down to cup your breasts. His thumbs ran over your nipples making you gasp. You got lost in each other for a moment, original goal forgotten until Minho began kissing his way down your neck. He replaced one of the hands on your boobs with his mouth, tongue laving over your nipple just like it would your clit.

You didn’t want to rush him but you were also beginning to feel desperate so you brought a hand to his hair, running your fingers through it before pushing down lightly, trying to signal what you needed. The salt water had left his hair more tousled than usual, leaving it just long enough to fall into his eyes. Even after a shower, it was more wavy than anything. You thought it suited him. Then again, you thought everything suited him.

You weren’t sure how much time passed before Minho finally spoke.

“Want you to sit on my face,” he mumbled against your skin. “Please?”

You sat up a bit, unsure you’d heard him correctly. “Are you serious?”

“Are you going to make me beg?” he asked, not answering the question.

“No, I just… no one’s ever asked me to do that before.”

Minho seemed surprised, likely due to his knowledge of your sexual experience. “Really?”

You nodded. “The guys I usually go for aren’t very-”

“Good in bed?” he supplied.

“Well, yeah. And I’m usually the one asking the girls, so…”

A smirk passed over his face briefly as he processed the information before his expression fell into one of concern again. “Don’t feel like you have to do it just because I want to.”

“No, I know. I’m just a little nervous, I guess.”

“We can stop whenever you want. Just let me know.”

You shook your head and exhaled. “Okay. How should I…”

Minho rolled off of you and onto his back so that you could position yourself on top of him. He helped you straddle his face, big hands rubbing soothing circles on each of your thighs.

“Just so you know, my entire body still feels like jelly from surfing so you’re going to have to do all of the work.”

“I can do that.”

“Are you sure?”

Minho scoffed as if he was offended you’d even ask. “Positive. Do you think I’m weak?”

“N-no! I just-”

“I’ve got you, okay?”

You gulped. “Okay.”

“And that means don’t hover. When I say sit on my face I mean sit. You won’t crush me, if that’s what you’re scared of.”

It was like he could read your mind.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Yes,” you whispered in response.

He coaxed you into lowering yourself little by little until you were close enough for him to taste. You balanced your weight on your knees, still not confident enough to fully rest on him despite his words.

But Minho ended up getting his way in the end because as soon as his tongue touched your pussy, you were suddenly unable to hold yourself upright. You were barely two seconds in and your legs gave out on you, just like you predicted. You weren’t sure why you even tried to ‘hover’ in the first place.

You tried to soften the fall by throwing yourself forward so that at least the top half of your body weight wouldn’t come crashing down on his face but he caught you before your hands hit the mattress and pulled you back on top of him.

“I said not to hover.” It was muffled but you could still make it out.

After that, it was a blur. You couldn’t even worry about whether or not you were suffocating Minho. All you could think about was how fucking good his mouth felt on your cunt.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop!” you whimpered, still trying to keep your voice down.

Minho could only hum in affirmation but you were sure he would’ve had a thousand cocky lines on the tip of his tongue had the tip of his tongue not been inside of you.

You came hard with a quiet yelp of his name, thighs clenching around his head. He helped you through your orgasm as always, trying to make it as long as possible by encouraging you to ride his face.

You collapsed on the bed as soon as the aftershocks ebbed away, clutching your chest as you tried to catch your breath.

“Fuck, that was so hot,” Minho complimented.

“It… was… hot for me… too.”

He chuckled lightheartedly and reached for his crumpled t-shirt that he’d set against one of the pillows, using it to wipe his mouth and chin before dropping it on the floor. You made a face and he just shrugged, same stupid grin on his face.

“I’m going to wash it.”

You sighed. “I know, just…”

“Figured you wouldn’t want me dripping when I kissed you.”

“Oh, please,” you scoffed and rolled your eyes. “You’re being dramatic.”

“Am I? I think the stain on my pants would say otherwise.”

You didn’t even have time to be mortified because Minho was pressing his lips to yours, effectively erasing whatever you had been about to say from your mind. It was exactly what you’d been afraid of happening but he didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, he seemed to be even more aroused by it. You could feel how hard he was through his sweats as he rocked his hips against yours, all because of you.

“Don’t be embarrassed about it,” he murmured.

“How did you-”

“Because I know you. And I know you overthink everything. But I think it’s hot, I promise.”

You whined in response, not used to hearing sweet words in bed. His eyes softened as he gazed at you. They were still dark with lust but you could see flecks of fondness peeking through the desire. It made you remember what he said the first time you hooked up.

Who the fuck ever told you to apologize for being turned on?

“I’ll tell you as many times as you need to hear it,” he added with a peck to your nose. “Are you good to keep going?”

You nodded. “Yes, please. Need you.”

“I can tell.”

He was back to teasing you like nothing had happened which was oddly more comfortable. The sincerity of his words had scared you a little, reignited feelings you’d rather not address. It was already hard enough to repress them in intimate moments like these. The thought of Minho actually caring about you was more than you could handle.

“Let me grab a condom,” he mumbled, leaning towards the dresser.

He rifled through the top drawer for one and then shimmied out of his pants and underwear. You laid there motionless as you waited for him to roll one on, still a little out of it from cumming so hard the first time.

“You’re really going to have to do all of the work this time,” you told him. “I can’t feel my legs.”

“Not a problem,” he replied with a wink. “Do you want my fingers first?”

You considered it for a second. You did love his fingers but it was getting late and you both needed to get up relatively early in the morning. And you’d be lying if you said that you weren’t getting impatient for his dick.

“No, just go slow.”

“I’ll go as slow as you need me to.”

You winced as he pushed himself inside of you, hissing through your teeth at the stretch. It wasn’t bad, just a bit overwhelming, but Minho took your reaction as one of pain.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m so sorry,” he grunted. “Should I stop?”

You shook your head. “Keep going.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Please keep going.”

He brought one of his hands down to where you were connected and began to rub your clit with his thumb to distract you from the slight discomfort. Soon, all of the feelings bled into pleasure, indistinguishable from each other, and you started pushing your hips up, weakly fucking yourself on Minho’s cock.

“Needy all of the sudden, aren’t we?” he mused.

“Always needy for you,” you moaned back.

You swore you could feel him twitching inside of you as he cursed. “Want me to move?”

“Please…”

He matched your pace in no time, fully taking over for you just like you’d wanted him to. He kept one hand on the headboard, half to keep his balance, half to keep it from banging against the wall. The other hand had moved from your clit to your face, where he was stroking your cheek with his thumb.

It was different than the other times you’d slept together. He was fucking you slow and deep, each thrust making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Fuck, how are you always so tight?” he asked.

You were too fucked out to answer. He didn’t seem to mind.

You weren’t sure how much time passed before he stopped suddenly, telling you to hold on for just as a second as he grabbed a pillow from behind you.

“Does that actually work?” you asked, propping yourself up on your elbows so that he could position it under your lower back.

“I’ve read great reviews.” He ignored the way you rolled your eyes. “Lay back down. How’s that?” He gave an experimental thrust, smiling cockily when your jaw went slack and your mouth fell open.

The change in angle allowed the head of his cock to rest against your g-spot, meaning whenever he moved he was hitting it dead-on. every. time.

“Minho, fuck!” you cried.

“Baby,” he warned.

You moaned again and he immediately shushed you. “What did I say about being quiet?” he growled.

“I t-told you that you’d have to figure out a way to make me,” you choked out.

Minho must have taken that as a challenge because as soon as you got the words out he was shoving two fingers into your mouth, making you suck on them. You moaned around them.

“That’s it, darling. Better?”

You nodded to the best of your ability. You wanted to tell Minho how hot he looked, how good he made you feel, how close you were to cumming but you couldn’t do any of that. To be fair, you doubted you’d be able to string a sentence together even if his fingers weren’t in your mouth.

“‘M close,” he admitted, sounding a little embarrassed. You weren’t sure why. He’d lasted a lot longer than a lot of your other partners. If anything it was impressive.

You tried mumbling out a me too but it was difficult with your mouth full. He seemed to get the idea, though and motioned for you to rub your clit to help you get there.

Minho came first, muffling a shout by biting your shoulder. You wished you could see his face, he was always so pretty when he came, but the sting from the bite was enough to throw you into your own orgasm.

Afterward, when you had both stopped trembling and regained enough muscle strength to move, Minho helped you get redressed. He instructed you to raise your arms above your head so that he could pull your shirt back on, laughing with you when your head got stuck.

You found yourself wishing that you could spend the night with him. It would be so nice to be able to fall asleep in his arms, to wake up next to him. You knew you couldn’t. It was just wishful thinking. You weren’t even sure if he wanted the same thing. You had always assumed that this was just sex to him, but his behavior towards you had made you start to think otherwise.

“You should shower,” Minho said softly, breaking the silence. He was suddenly unable to meet your gaze and you didn’t want to think about what that meant. “Got you all sweaty.”

“What about you?” you asked.

“I’ll go after you. We probably shouldn’t…” he trailed off. “Not that I don’t want to-”

“No, I get it,” you said. “Goodnight, Minho.”

i'm on my laptop tn so no taglist but pls lmk what you think I always appreciate feedback!!

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#instead of you stray kids #instead of you skz #iou stray kids #iou skz #stray kids smut #skz smut #lee know smut #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x female reader #lee know x reader #lee know x female reader #lee know x bi!reader #lee know series #stray kids series

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weemssapphic · 10 months

Text

do you get deja vu when she’s with you?

Larissa Weems x reader

“The truth is that you’ve always gravitated towards Larissa - always turning towards her like a sunflower turning to face the sun, as though you need to bask in her light to survive (you are honestly starting to think you might).” Or A collection of scenes post-breakup with Larissa Weems, based loosely on the song ‘deja vu’ by Olivia Rodrigo.

EDIT 17.1.2024: ao3 user levisha created a playlist inspired by this fic and it is absolutely fire! really sets the mood :')

A/N: This is a breakup fic - read at your own risk, I guess (I won’t be offended if you skip this one, I usually steer clear of hurt/no comfort - both in the reading and writing sense - but I felt weirdly compelled to write this. Was on the fence about posting it but here it is I guess).

Words: ~2.3k

Content/warnings: hurt/no comfort, angst, no happy ending, breakups, mentions of alcohol, mean!Larissa

The sun bathes your face in a comforting warmth as you stroll along the pier. It’s the end of summer and there’s a cool breeze in the air as the days slowly turn shorter. You’ve visited this pier dozens of times this year, but today is the first day you’ve gone alone. The sounds of children playing and waves rolling rhythmically, the scent of salty sea air mixed with strawberry ice cream - all send waves of nostalgia crashing through your body.

You took Larissa here for the first time last summer. It was all she could talk about for weeks after, until you brought her here again. You pass by a bench, the bench where you sat back then, your head leaning on her shoulder, her hand on your thigh, alternating between talking about anything and everything, and watching the seagulls, wrapped in a comfortable silence. Your chest constricts but you walk on, passing by couples and families and groups of teenagers.

It’s been a month since you last saw her. A month of crying and screaming, a month of feeling like your heart has been torn out of your chest. Today is the first day in a month that you’ve successfully managed to make it to the afternoon without crying once.

As you look across the pier, your gaze settles on a woman. She’s standing alone, watching the water ebb and flow. You notice her because of the sundress she’s wearing, the funky print - it’s something you could see yourself wearing, and it makes you smile.

It appears that someone has called out to her - she turns her head and you can see from the side that her face lights up as she reaches out her hand, into which a cup of ice cream is deposited. The woman beams, but your own smile melts right off your face as you drink in the form of the tall blonde that has sidled up next to the young woman.

You already know that Larissa has found someone new - it isn’t exactly a secret, she’d told you so herself when she’d ended your relationship. Her heart had been captured by another. They’d met during a work conference. They’d hit it off. It wasn’t personal, she’d told you with doe-eyes and a sad smile as she cracked your heart in two. You just weren’t enough, that much you could infer. And that was that. A part of you knew from the start that this was exactly how Larissa would leave - she found someone more exciting, the next second she was gone.

You wonder what Larissa had said to her new girlfriend before leaving the house this morning. “I have the perfect spot for a date,” perhaps. “There’s a lovely spot by the ocean I’ve been meaning to show you,” maybe. Either way, you’re certain she left out the part about coming here with you.

That was our place, I found it first.

It hurts to look, and you know you should look away, but you can’t. Not when the woman slides closer to Larissa, when Larissa’s arm winds its way around her waist, when she presses a kiss to the top of the woman’s head, when they begin to share the ice cream - one spoon for two, just as you’d always insisted.

You don’t know how long you’ve been standing there, but a gust of wind makes you shiver and you know the two women have felt it too, because Larissa rubs a hand over her bare arm and the woman shrugs off the cardigan she’s wearing to drape it over the taller woman’s shoulders. It looks tiny on her, and both women begin to laugh, and you feel you may be sick because you recall offering Larissa your own jacket on a day not unlike this and it feels so reused to you - you wonder if the thought crosses Larissa’s mind, too.

When you trudge home shortly after, you can’t help the tears that begin to stream down your cheeks, staining the front of your shirt. So perhaps today isn’t the first day you haven’t cried in a month.

~~~

You don’t want to, you don’t try to, but somehow you manage to run into Larissa and her new girlfriend everywhere.

It’s a few weeks later and you’re standing in line at the Weathervane. The barista hands you your coffee and you turn to make your way back to your usual corner booth.

Except, it’s already occupied. The woman sitting there facing you looks vaguely familiar, but what’s even more familiar - so achingly familiar - is the back of a blonde head, soft curls pinned into elaborate loops.

Your stomach churns as your eyes fall to the table, to the two mugs of hot chocolate, each covered with a generous heap of whipped cream. You step closer in spite of yourself, drawn like a moth to a flame - you know you will be scorched, burned alive, but you cannot help the trance you find yourself in as soon as Larissa is involved.

“Go on, try it,” comes a smooth, velvety voice - you’d almost forgotten her voice (almost made yourself forget), but now it comes flooding back to you and hits you straight in the gut. The lilting accent, dripping like honey from painted (always painted) lips - you can picture the way they curl up into a little smile, baring pearly white teeth as Larissa waits for the woman across from her to lift the mug to her own lips and take a sip.

The smile that lights up her face is bright, innocent. “It’s really good!” she says enthusiastically, and then Larissa reaches across the table to swipe her thumb over the little dollop of whipped cream that coats the woman’s upper lip. She giggles - they both giggle - and you feel tears prick your eyes as the ghost of Larissa’s thumb passes over your own lip.

She thinks it’s special.

She thinks she’s special.

You look away. You take a step back towards the counter. “Actually, can I have this to go?” The barista gives you a funny look but takes the mug from you, pouring your drink into a to-go cup and pressing the lid firmly in place. You leave. You cannot stand it anymore, and you leave. Before the woman catches you staring at her, before Larissa turns and pins you in place with what would surely be a look of pity or disgust - or worse, apathy.

~~~

New Year’s Eve. A party at a local bar. A party that everyone goes to. A party that you managed to drag Larissa to the previous year. You aren’t sure you even want to go - you are sure that the memory of Larissa will be everywhere, the memory of the New Year’s kiss, of singing together, of whispered resolutions to fall even more in love and travel the world together.

But you need to get out, you cannot sit at home drowning in memories. Not after months have passed since the breakup - you should be moving on. And they’re only memories. You should be safe, you think - Larissa never was one for crowded parties, she would’ve rather spent her New Year’s Eve on the balcony of her apartment with a glass of wine in hand. “Please, Larissa,” you would beg. “I wouldn’t go for anyone else,” she would purr.

So you go. And for a few blissful minutes, it is pleasant, and the music invigorates you and the alcohol numbs you and maybe, just maybe, you can forget about Larissa Weems for a few hours.

But as you stand in the dimly lit bar, clutching a bottle of beer to your chest, you spot her. More specifically, you spot her first, all bouncy and giddy and wrapped in a sparkly dress that catches the light and throws specks of silver across the floor in front you. You think - it’s possible - she could be alone, but then Larissa is standing there, tall and regal and grinning from ear to ear. Her eyes sparkle in amusement as she looks down at her girlfriend and it’s as though time has slowed to a complete stop. Her hand settles on the woman’s lower back and you find yourself shivering in response, recalling how it felt the first time it was your back that her fingers pressed into.

“Uptown Girl" by Billy Joel starts to play. You cannot escape this damned deja vu that sneaks up on you every time you see Larissa with her girlfriend. All of your senses are invaded by the feeling of standing in this very same bar with Larissa, drunk and singing along, giddy at the prospect of another year together, another year of falling even more madly in love.

You wonder, as you watch the woman turn her head up to meet Larissa’s gaze, as you watch her mouth form the words to the song, as you watch Larissa sing back to her, leaning in until they are practically shouting the lyrics into each other’s faces, grinning giddily - does Larissa feel it too? The deja vu? Does Larissa have a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach just like you do? Does the memory cross her mind of you yelling “it’s our song” whenever “Uptown Girl” began to play? Does she think about how you teased her for getting the lyrics wrong? Does she still get those lyrics wrong? Maybe her new girlfriend teases her about that, too. Maybe Larissa whispers “I love you” to this woman after the chorus, too, just like she always did with you.

You try to spend the evening as far from Larissa as possible, try not to look for her in the crowd as you might have once done. Your efforts are futile. The truth is that you’ve always gravitated towards Larissa - always turning towards her like a sunflower turning to face the sun, as though you need to bask in her light to survive (you are honestly starting to think you might).

She never turns to face you, though. Not once. You aren’t sure if she doesn’t know you’re there or if she is actively ignoring you - you aren’t sure which would be worse. That she can walk directly past you without registering your presence, even though you could pick her out of a crowd of hundreds in an instant, irrespective of her height? Or that she cannot even bear to look at the person she once swore she’d spend forever with?

Your throat is dry and you aren’t nearly drunk enough to get through the evening - but Larissa is sitting at that damned bar once again, elbows on the counter and chin resting in her hands as she listens intently to something her girlfriend is saying to her - she used to hang onto your every word like that, like she was held captive by your voice. It used to make you feel like the most special person in the world, that Larissa Weems would choose you, that she would value what you have to say.

Larissa speaks - it’s too loud in the bar to hear their conversation, but she must have said something funny because her girlfriend throws her head back with laughter, and Larissa simply watches her with sparkling eyes and parted lips that curve up into an adoring smile. You cannot help but wonder if you’ve heard the joke she’s told before - if it’s one of the jokes you’ve taught her, that she loves to retell. You cannot help the bitter taste this leaves in your mouth.

No more drinks for you then - not when Larissa is at the bar and you’d have to brush against her to get the bartender’s attention. It’s nearing midnight anyway, and most people are starting to turn towards the TVs hanging in the corners of the bar - a news program covering the Ball Drop in Times Square plays.

The countdown begins:

“10, 9, 8…”

The entire room chants as the countdown on the TVs continues.

“…2, 1 - HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

Confetti begins to fall around you. It catches in your hair, blurs your vision with kaleidoscope colors. Music and screaming and laughter fill your ears, deafening you. But all you can do is watch as Larissa kisses her girlfriend - right at midnight. They kiss and kiss and just as you feel you’re about to be sick, Larissa pulls back. And then she smiles, she smiles like she used to smile at you, and reaches up to gingerly pluck a piece of neon pink confetti out of her girlfriend’s hair, and her girlfriend’s shoulders shake with laughter as her hands slide down from Larissa’s neck to her waist to tug her closer - even closer.

Then Larissa, beautiful, sweet, merciless Larissa, begins to laugh as well, and as she does so she turns her head and her eyes (half-lidded as her face scrunches up with unadulterated joy) pierce your own. And it is the worst feeling you have ever felt, and a knot begins to form in your throat, because her gleeful expression does not change. Not into one of guilt, not into one of pity - not even into one of recognition. It is as if you are two strangers, accidentally and fleetingly making eye contact in a bar.

Tears prick at your vision and for a moment, Larissa is blurred. You blink the tears away and when you can see clearly again, her attention is back on her girlfriend. She’ll never feel sorry for the way you hurt, you realize.

A new year. A fresh start - for everyone but you. You will always be stuck in a bar with Larissa Weems on New Year’s Eve, with nothing but your memories and an overwhelming sense of deja vu.

Taglist: @oceansblooming @alexusonfire @brienneswife @rosieathena @pro-weems-places @bigolgay @kimiinou @imprincipalweemspet @h-doodles

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #larissa x reader #hdgkjhfkdfhkdfhk this is wildly out of my comfort zone sorry if this is like not good lmao #also sorry for it not being happy lol #but thank you for reading if you did <333 #Spotify

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starlettechild · 3 months

Text

꧁༺ ѕєα ƒσαм ༻꧂

CONTENT: Astarion x Tav(g/n). Established relationship. Tav and Astarion have gotten older overtime. Heavy angst and character death. Astarion takes his last walk with Tav along the shoreline.

⚠️TWs⚠️: Death & final goodbyes between Tav and Astarion.

NOTES: I apologize in advance to all the Astarion stans. I have made something monstrous. Heavily recommend listening to the song below if you’re looking for a better angst experience!

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

In and out. In and out. The waves pull in and out. Each rolling wave follows the intake of his breath, as if Astarion controlled the raging sea. Its steady heartbeat replacing the empty and still one within his own chest. His hand tightens around his love’s, and they respond with a gentle squeeze of their own. For years, there has only been gentleness with them. Love. He felt the pieces of himself come back, washing up on shore with the waves. He was entirely whole now. His lover had taken the scars on his back and within and planted flowers there. Overgrowing with delicate and accepting love, Astarion flourished. Bloomed like a flower underneath the sun, growing more magnificent with each passing year.

He can feel the crevices on his lovers hand from age and battles from the past. While his palm remains smooth, internally he has those same crevices. Those crevices that left him feeling as if he was missing out on something. The same feeling he felt when he wanted to go somewhere, explore somewhere new. Of course, he consoled his darling about this feeling. They only smiled, some tears dropping down their aging face, and said they understood. That they were ready to let him see what came next, and that they would meet him there one day to be reunited once more. The two spent days together after that, never departing from one another’s side. Until one day, Astarion said he wanted to see the sea.

So here they were, shielded by the light of the waning moon in the sky. It’s light rippling off of the waves. The ocean holds up a mirror to the moon, much like Tav did for him. Eternally reminding it of its beauty. The moonlight dances around them, the stats above twinkling. He swears they are beckoning him home.

“Come home, little star. We’ve been waiting for you.”

He turns to Tav, running his free hand in the strands of their hair, admiring the graying at the roots. “I’ve always wanted to see what the sun looked like reflected by the sea. A pity that we couldn’t see it while we could, darling.” His own voice, the waves, and the breath that comes from Tav is all he could hear, until their lips parted in response.

“Would you like to see it, Astarion?” A tear slips down their cheek, but their words are only filled with love. He thinks for a moment, but it doesn’t take him long to decide. He does want to see. “Yes. Yes I do.” Tav nods, squeezing his hand tighter. They squeeze three times, a thing they did when Astarion was too afraid to say those three words. I love you.

“Then you’ll get to see.” They stop, turning towards the sea. The sky begins to lighten, stars beginning to wink out as if put to sleep by the rising sun. Almost there, he tells them. I’m almost there. They both stand in the shallow bay, the waves lapping at their bare feet. His and Tav’s falling tears mix in with the water below, but they both smile, memorizing each-other’s faces. He maps out theirs, so when he’s gone, he can find them once more. It was he who was found in this life by them. He plans on returning the favor this time.

There’s a slight sparkle on the waves, and they both look over. A glimmer of sun-rays, dancing on the water and riding the waves. It’s like nothing he’s ever seen before. Something beyond his imagination, how those waves begin to sparkle in the dawn. With each passing second, they sparkle more. The sun peaking behind the limitless horizon beyond. Astarion throws his head back. And he laughs, and laughs, and laughs.

He extends his arms, basking in the rising sun, his skin shimmering and burning with each second. “It’s magnificent!” He yells, tears falling and mixing with flame. But this isn’t the last thing he wants to see.

He turns to Tav, and they look just like they did when they first met. When they first found him, hair blowing in the wind, face wet with tears, smiling at Astarion like he is the sun. He blinks once, twice, and hopes he has burned this image into his very soul.

“I love you.” He grasps their hand. Three squeezes, a final smile to them. His eyes closing for the last time, as the sun fully rises from above. His skin shines brighter than the sunlight on the waves. A little star - returning home at last. And home he goes, all that’s left of him mixing with the ocean, washing up on the bay with the sea foam.

Home at last.

#bg3 writing #bg3 angst #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion #astarion bg3 #bg3 x reader #bg3 x tav #astarion angst #angst #SoundCloud

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peonierose · 3 months

Text

Losing Game

(2/4)

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Bryce Lahela (M!MC) x Luna Auclair (F!OC)

Rating: Mature / Angst

TW: Mental Health

Words: 1,000+

Summary: Bryce comes back from visiting his father in prison. Though he didn’t tell Luna. Will things work out between them? Or will they drift further apart?

A/N: If you haven’t read the first part you can catch up on Part 1 here

Sidenote: If you want to listen to some music, I got you I created a list on Spotify for all four parts. Here’s the list for Part 2 🥰

Bryce

I parked the car in the garage and shut off the engine. I got out and felt the night air surrounding me.

It’s so much quieter now that the engine is off. Only the sound of the ocean and cicadas can be heard.

When I walked out I could hear Luna in the kitchen singing along to a song on the radio. It’s from the eighties I think.

When she heard me come in, her whole face transformed into a beautiful smile. Her blue-green eyes lit up like the stars. I hate that those starlit eyes will go out.

”Hey handsome I’ve missed you,“ Luna walked towards me and leaned against my chest smiling at me.

I smiled but it didn’t reach my eyes.

Her smile dimmed and she looked at me. She scrunched up her eyebrows in confusion.

But I just needed a minute to settle down. I opened the cabinet where we kept the strong stuff.

I opened a bottle of scotch. A gift from Ethan and Hayley. Who knew this is exactly what I need right now? And pour myself a drink.

I knocked it back like it was water and poured another round.

”B what’s wrong? You’re scaring me a little,“ she pulled her pink sweater closer around herself.

”I went to see my dad,“ I took a sip of my second glass of scotch.

There’s pain and confusion in her eyes. I hate seeing it there. She straightened her shoulders and looked me square in the eyes.

”What? Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve gone with you!“ She said, coming closer. She put the glass out of my hands and placed it on the kitchen table.

”This is something I needed to do on my own. I just didn’t want anyone to come with me, since I didn’t even know if I’d have the guts to go inside,“ I admitted.

”B no one and I repeat no one would have judged you,“ her voice getting soft.

I sighed in frustration.

”Don’t you get it? I wanted to go alone…I…“ I ran out of words and shoved my hands through my hair.

I’d rather throw my glass against the wall, to see it shatter, like my heart is shattering right now. I sighed and leaned against the kitchen counter.

Luna sat down in one of the kitchen chairs. Her hands were placed over her stomach.

And I felt like even more of an asshole. I didn’t want to add any kind of stress to her. But damn it if my emotions aren’t a raging tornado inside my chest.

”I didn’t mean to keep it a secret. I needed answers. Peace. Solace. Closure. I needed something,“ I said and I could tell Lunes was mad and disappointed in me. Her eyes display everything.

”I’m just sad you didn’t tell me, Bryce. I’d be the last person to judge you. I love you. We’re getting married. We’re having twins for god's sake. I feel like you excluded me and that hurts,“ she breathed hard and I could see her pulse kick up.

The vein at her neck throbbed. Meilani is already worried about Lunes' pregnancy and wants her to be more careful and avoid any stressful situations.

I let out a breath I was holding in and sat next to her.

”I didn’t mean to hurt you. But I know how much you’d want my parents at our wedding and in our children’s lives. I tried getting some closure for myself. I wanted to get a feel for what they’re like now! I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea about them. Like some fairy tale,“ I said it and instantly regretted it.

She snorted.

”Look if you don’t want them in our lives, okay fine. But don’t treat me like an idiot. I might be blonde but I’m not stupid. I can form my own opinion. Thank you very much. You’ve kept it pretty close to what your parents have done, and that’s your right. But sometimes it feels like I don’t know you or at least not everything. Sometimes it feels like I’m on the outside looking in,“ her voice getting smaller by the second.

I wish she’d scream at me or throw things. This quietness is almost unbearable. It’s killing me. It’s different. Seeing her this quiet isn’t something I’m used to seeing.

I want to reach out my hand and touch her, but I let my hand fall to the side. I don’t think she’d welcome my touch right now.

I breathe out just to have something to do.

This is our first real fight. And so close to the wedding too.

God, what a mess I created. I reached for the glass with the drink.

And take a sip. Feeling the alcohol burn down my throat. Exactly what I needed.

”Lunes…“ I started.

She stopped me.

”Don‘t. I get that this is very personal and it’s painful to talk about. But you could’ve told me. I would’ve respected it if you said you’d want to go alone. But not saying anything? And then just drop that bomb on me? Not fucking cool Bryce!“

I sigh and put my head in my hands. She’s saying my full name instead of B. Which tells me she’s pissed and she has every right to be.

It will take some time for Luna to forgive me and get over the fact that I lied.

”I don’t even know why we’re fighting about this,“ I said and she didn't say anything to that.

”We’re fighting because we don’t keep secrets from each other Bryce. Yes, our relationship isn’t perfect. But you’re usually not a liar Bryce.“

I flinched as if she slapped me and didn't respond to her. We’re both raw from the words we exchanged. Feeling every single quiet and soft whisper, and it’s like a blow to my body.

She sighs.

”I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like that. I’m mad and sad…pregnancy hormones suck.“

We both smile at each other, but then we get serious again. We both look away. The distance between us grew by the second.

Luna fumbled with her hair and I stared off into space not sure what to say.

A lump formed in my throat again, making it difficult to swallow past it.

”I get it. It was an asshole move. But I didn’t know what to do,“ I say, my voice almost breaking at that.

Luna's face crumbled at the pain in my voice.

”Oh B,“ she murmured and I leaned on her shoulder and cried again.

She held me tight until I leaned my forehead onto her shoulder.

”Your sweater is all wet,“ my voice gruff as I wiped away some tears.

She waved me off.

”I don’t give a rat's ass about my sweater. What I do care about is you,“ she cupped my face into her hands and gave me a gentle kiss. One full of emotions. What she couldn’t say with words, she conveyed with her kiss.

When we broke apart I could see that some traces of pain were left in her beautiful blue-green eyes.

Reminding me that I was the one who put that pain there. I hung my head in shame.

”I didn’t mean to blindside you like that Lu,“ I whisper.

She sighed against me.

”I know. It hurt me and I guess…I’ll need some time to get over it. I can understand why you did it, but I’m hurt you didn’t tell me,“ she said.

I looked up at her.

”What now?“ I asked her. Completely baffled. I have no idea what to say to that.

She shrugged, distancing herself from me. Not just physically but emotionally as well, which hurt more than if she flung any objects or words at me.

I’ve never felt more apart from her than now. As if I tried to grasp her hand and it slipped out of reach.

Luna rubbed her head.

”I don’t know B. Maybe we should just go to sleep?“ She asked hesitantly as if not sure where we stood.

I nodded. Nothing is resolved. But I couldn’t be alone. Not tonight.

As much as I craved space from everyone and anyone, I’m still selfish because I wanted her next to me.

To feel her soft skin beneath my palms. To caress her body.

We walked upstairs. The whole room was tense. We silently got into our sleep attire.

Lunes put one of my Stanford t-shirts on, the ones she used as a sleep shirt, as I got in some sleep shorts resting low on my hips.

Sliding the comforter aside we got into bed. The ceiling fan was on full blast.

Even though we’re still unsure of the whole situation. One thing is for sure. Our love is still strong and it won’t die.

Later in the night, I woke up to find Luna snuggled into my side. Clutching my hand close to her cheek.

I smiled down at her. Trying to extract my hand to envelop her in my arms. She stirred slightly and saw how she was clutching my hand close to her.

”Sorry I…“ she tried to scoot away.

But I don‘t let her.

”Lunes. No matter what happens my love for you is never in doubt,“ I pulled her closer.

I felt her nod more than I could see it.

We held hands and fell asleep. We still have ways to go, but I know we’ll be alright.

#Losing Game #Part 2 / 4 #Bryce Lahela #Luna Auclair #open heart #cfwc

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thenon-fictiondays · 1 year

Text

Hirano to Kagiura light novel translation 3-1

Chapter 3: Present.

Part 1

Prev || Next

“Long time, no see…well, not really, huh? Your casual clothes are cool, Hirano-san.”

At the meet-up spot just outside the ticket gate, Kagiura smiles carefreely.

When complimented this straightforwardly, Hirano can’t help but be flustered. His cheeks tinged with red, he replies, “Ah, you too,” raising a hand in greeting.

Their large bags are hard to handle when they’re walking side by side, and they almost collide.

After Hirano had gone home, they had talked on the phone almost every day in order to solidify their plans. Although they just talked for five minutes before lights out, he’s gotten used to hearing Kagiura’s voice over the phone, and his tone is different in person.

Now seeing the soft-spoken Kagiura face to face, Hirano gets the feeling he’s even taller than he remembered, which elicits from him a wry smile.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder, yet Kagiura hasn’t even been absent that long.

Summer vacation hasn’t even been going on that long.

When Hirano had brought up going to the countryside to hang out with his kouhai, his mother had looked surprised, and his father had seemed amused.

After he finally received the taken-aback response of “Well, that came out of nowhere. I suppose it’s fine, though”, he’d realized the hypocrisy of him telling Kagiura to get permission from his parents.

And after I’ve been acting like an older brother to Kagi-kun.

He hadn’t shaken off the sheepishness of this blunder, and they made none of the conversation that usually follows after saying hello.

Hirano has two pieces of luggage, a gray Boston bag and a tote bag borrowed from his mother. Inside the tote bag is a hostess gift. The day after they’d discussed his trip, his mother had prepared something that would keep for a long time at room temperature.

When’s the right time to hand it over?

In his day to day life, he’s always playing the role of dorm senpai or disciplinary committee member, but in the grand scheme of things, he’s still only just a high schooler.

Playing in the river, swimming in the ocean, fireworks.

He had imagined how they’d spend time in the countryside, and had diligently researched how to get a ticket for the long-distance bus, but he hadn’t even considered the right way to give his greetings.

The night bus, with four seats to a row, leaves the terminal at 10:30; they expect to arrive at Kagiura’s countryside house at around 9:30 the following morning.

There is no way they won’t get hungry while traveling for roughly half a day.

Which is to say, as soon as they checked where to board the bus, Hirano and Kagiura decided to stock up on snacks at the convenience store.

As the two stand side by side in the blindingly-lit store, all the awkwardness of not seeing each other for a week melts away.

“I wonder if the 500 milliliter bottle of tea will be enough.”

“We’ll be stopping at a rest stop along the way, so we can probably buy more then.”

“Should I get karaage?”

“It’ll have a really strong smell.”

“Yeah, you’re right…what should I get, then…?”

It’d be prudent to get something that won’t spill easily, smell strongly, or make a loud noise when eaten, so they won’t bother the passengers around them.

Once they consider those conditions, their options are narrowed down quite a bit.

“You should get something that’ll keep you full overnight. Like onigiri or something.”

“That might be enough. Ah, I’m gonna get konbu.”

“You’re a fan of konbu, huh?”

“Yeah.”

Being away from school, in addition to being totally caught up in the excitement of the trip, makes the boundaries between senpai and kouhai fade away.

While they test out the various furnishings, each of their appetites subdued by onigiri as soon as they’d boarded the bus, the speakers crackle to life to announce that the interior lights will be shut off.

As they were instructed to do so as not to bother the passengers around them after the bus lights shut off, the reading lights flicker on all around the bus.

Hirano was among those who turned them on for the sheer novelty of it, but he had packed most of his belongings in the Boston bag, so he actually doesn’t have a book on hand.

Not quite ready to settle in yet, he looks to the side, where Kagiura has spread out a blanket and made himself completely at home.

He has turned his sling bag round to the front, as if trying to cradle his valuables. The seats must be cramped for the long-legged Kagiura.

“You’re not sleepy, are you?” His voice fading to a whisper, he adds on, “I kinda want to sleep since we ate all that food”, and his words are illustrated by the drowsy look in his eyes. There’s no helping it. It’s already past 11 o’clock.

Hirano turns off the reading light.

“...Now I’m kinda tired, too.”

Hirano spreads out his blanket, adjusts his footrest and reclining seat, and unfolds the eyemask he’d taken from his bag.

When he glances around the bus, there’s just a few people left who still have their lights on.

Hirano slowly opens his eyes, having become conscious of the tap tap of his arms being lightly poked. The aisleway lights are on, glaringly bright.

At some point the eye mask had slipped upward, and is now hanging on to the top of his head by just a hair.

“Hirano-san, we’re here—at the rest stop, I mean. Let’s go outside.”

The person whispering into his ear while gently touching his arms is Kagiura.

“Oh…Kagi-kun…”

He faintly remembers the schedule. The break at the rest stop is indeed late at night, around 1 a.m. They’d only gotten to sleep for a few hours. Hirano, who is bad with mornings at the best of times, normally wouldn’t be able to get up this early if the world was ending. But he’s been woken up by Kagiura, who is even worse at waking up in the morning, which never happens. He can’t very well just not get up.

Upon rising from his seat as prompted, he quickly realizes that his arms, bared by his short sleeves, are freezing. Just standing up is enough to get his blood moving again.

“They said the break will be 15 minutes. We’ll be more comfortable if we get off the bus and stretch. Just about everyone else’s already gotten off.”

Sure enough, when he looks around all the empty seats stand out. Walking up the narrow aisles to use the bathroom in the bus is an unappealing prospect, so it seems they’d be better off going outside.

When he follows Kagiura off the bus, the lights of the buildings shine brilliantly below the night sky as far as the eye can see. There are multiple buses stopped besides the one Hirano and Kagiura are taking, and the carpark is also bustling with personal automobiles.

“The night bus is colder than I expected.”

As they walk towards the facilities, Hirano regrets not having a long-sleeved shirt on hand.

“Yeah. If you only have that blanket, it’s a little chilly.”

It’s probably because of all the greenery. Even considering the fact that it’s night, it’s still the middle of summer, yet the open air is refreshingly cool.

“It doesn’t feel much like summer, does it?”

“It’d be nice if it felt like this during the day, too.”

As they walk, he stretches his wrists out and rolls them in relief. For Kagiura with his long legs, the seats in the bus are probably way too cramped.

Hirano had bought corn soup in a cup from a vending machine after quickly using the facilities.

He isn’t hungry, but it warms his stomach.

“Ouch!”

Even though he blew on it, it doesn’t cool down the way it would in wintertime.

As he lightly sips it to keep from burning himself, Kagiura, having returned from buying more onigiri, tilts his head.

“Hirano-san, are you gonna take that onto the bus?”

“Nah. The smell is pretty strong.”

“Can I eat some of it then? We only have three minutes left.”

“Geh. I’m leaving it to you, then.”

“You got it. I’ll take care of it for you!”

Kagiura’s refreshing smile brings his defined features into prominence, and he looks a bit like an idol. A pair of college-aged girls passing by whisper to each other, “God, he’s hot,” and “I know, right?”

After gulping down more than half, Kagiura hands the cup back to Hirano.

“It’s not hot anymore, so you should be good.”

Just as he said, when Hirano tilts the cup, he can feel the warmth where his lips touch the rim.

“Oh, you’re right.”

He drains the cup in two large sips and throws it out, and they hurry back to the bus.

Apart from the two of them, it looks like all the passengers have already returned to their seats. They made it back in the nick of time with one minute to spare.

After sharing a silent smile with Kagiura, Hirano pulls the blanket firmly up over his shoulders. There’s a short announcement, and then the bus quietly pulls out of the rest stop.

Thanks to the warmth in his stomach, he slips back into sleep easily.

****

They take their time eating a breakfast of curry at the cafe in front of the train station; the car comes to pick them up as they look around at the station tenants.

“You’ve come such a long way. Thank you for looking after Akira.”

The person who receives them fondly is Kagiura’s aunt.

Apparently, the plan is to head to a place they call the main house after stopping at a supermarket on the way for some shopping. Noticing that the side profile of the woman in the driver’s seat resembles Kagiura, Hirano says, “you look a lot like Kagi-kun,” to which Kagiura replies, “you think so?” with a grin.

Their affable expressions especially look alike.

Upon arrival and disembarkment, Hirano stands in front of the house in amazement.

“.....It’s huge!”

“Right? It makes it really easy for us all to get together.”

There are spots for six vehicles in the parking lot, a fact by which he’d been overwhelmed. And when taking in the full breadth of the house with wide eyes, he is once again at a loss for words at the vastness of Kagiura’s grandfather’s house.

He’d heard it was big ahead of time, but this is several times larger than the scale he was imagining.

The construction seems old, but it wouldn’t be out of line to call the meticulously maintained house a mansion.

Just as he’d expected from Kagiura’s description, the countryside spreads out around the house as far as the eye can see.

The sky is wide and open, and a river flows nearby.

Narrow irrigation channels for agricultural usage flow quite quickly, and it seems dangerous for small children.

“Wow…no way, this place is frickin’ huge. Do you guys have barbecues and stuff on that riverbank we passed by earlier?”

“I haven’t. It’s easy to get down into the river there, and there’s a lot of fish and other critters, so we play in the water there a lot.”

“Huh...”

The pathway leading to the entrance is paved, so he looks around at their surroundings without worrying about getting tripped up. The buildings are set quite far apart from one another, and he can’t even begin to guess the distance.

Through the front door that had been left open, he just catches a glance at the more than ten pairs of shoes lined up. The foyer itself is also wide, as is the entryway step.¹ It looks as if someone had reproduced it from a picture of a classic Japanese building.

“We’re home!”

“Pardon the intrusion.”

Following Kagiura’s lead, their larger luggage is left in the entryway for the time being. Hirano takes from his tote bag only the hostess gift and heads into the house after Kagiura.

They are greeted by a group of small children.

“Akira-kun!”

“Akkii!”

“Oh, I haven’t seen you guys since spring break!”

Going by their ages, they might be his cousins? It seems as though Kagiura is acting like the adult of this group, and his expression looks more mature.

But where are the actual adults?

Kagiura’s aunt, who’d driven them here, had gone around to a side door, so they had parted ways a bit before reaching the entryway.

Who should I give this to?

The presence of the paper bag, the corner folded down, has made him uncharacteristically antsy.

“Ummm…..Hirano-san, this way.”

Kagiura, who at some point had procured a sword fashioned from newspaper, is heading down the hallway while engaged in mock swordplay with a boy of around five.

Rather than going easy on him, he is fending off the attack strategically so as to avoid taking any hits; he seems to be taking the match seriously as he grins. He’s not even pausing for breath.

As he trails behind, a small girl follows close by Hirano’s side. As expected, she vaguely resembles Kagiura. Particularly, the part of their hair.

The girl’s eye level is only up to his legs, so he figured she must have mistaken him for a family member, but when he asks her “how old are you?” she cheerfully replies “four!”, so he probably doesn’t need to worry about it.

The fingers she has confidently thrust upward, presumably so Hirano can easily see them, are only three in number; he’s tickled by not knowing which was the correct number.

He probably did stuff like this, too, he thinks—he’s starting to get an image of how his kouhai was as a child, despite not having known him at that age.

Thanks to that, his nerves settled, and even giving his greetings to Kagiura’s grandfather, who was relaxing in a Japanese-style room listening to the radio, was enjoyable.

The hostess gift that he’d finally managed to hand over will, after being used as an offering at the household altar, be put out as today’s afternoon snack.

In the meantime, everyone is called to their seats for lunch, and proper introductions are made.

As far as Kagiura’s parents and siblings go, apparently they plan to arrive around the time of Obon.

When asked why he’d chosen to come at a separate time, Kagiura had replied, “I wanted to come before the jellyfish start coming out,” but this explanation comes under fire as a “weird reason”—the residents of this house don’t play in the nearby seaside much, since rip currents form easily there.

At that moment, Kagiura’s eyes had flitted to Hirano, meeting his gaze before darting away.

Well, it was probably just that if they came for Obon, it’d be uncomfortable to let friends tag along.

After lunch, their troupe, led by the kids, play in the river, and as soon as they return to the house to rehydrate start playing a game with a ball, so there’s no time to rest between the nonstop activities.

Hirano had intended to keep up with Kagiura, but the difference in their stamina had been made painfully clear, and before he knew it he’d found himself surrounded by a growing number of small children.

They kept on playing, but they told him, “we’ll save you!”, so they’re just putting up with the guest.

The sunlight was strong, so he had borrowed a straw hat, but having changed into a swimsuit and entered the river, his upper half had gotten quite sunburnt.

The prickling pain had been getting progressively worse, and if his skin wasn’t damaged before he got in the bath, it sure was after.

Hirano is suffering away in the second floor bedroom he’d been given when Kagiura, who’d taken a bath after him, returns holding a tube of cream in his hand.

“Hirano-san, I heard your back is bright red. Put this on. It’s for sunburns, so it’ll help a bit.”

“Oh, they told you?”

“Yeah. They said it looked super painful when you washed your back.”

Hirano, who’d ended up in charge of the kids and even been put on bath duty before he knew what was happening, had taken his bath with the three boys, aged lower grade to kindergarten.

Among them was the young boy who’d enthusiastically brandished the newspaper sword.

“Yeah, for sure. It wasn’t bothering me that much, but it hurts like a bitch when something rubs against my back.”

“Getting that lot to behave must’ve been rough.”

“They didn’t behave…they weren’t even still when I was drying them off.”

Luckily, they weren’t cowed by Hirano’s blond hair, but they kept jumping up to play with it, so they got wet again as soon as he dried them, and he’d had to put their pajamas on with their hair still soaking wet, which was a pain in the ass.

“Huh? At that age, they can dry themselves off, you know.”

“...Are you kidding me?”

Kagiura giggles.

“It’s because you’re so nice. You’ve been spoiling them rotten. …..Will you take off your top for me?”

“You gonna put the cream on for me?”

“Of course.”

He pulls his shirt off, flinching at the feeling of the fabric grazing his skin.

The sensation of the refreshingly cool fingers stroking his shoulder blades feels indescribably good.

With the hectic day finally over, he thinks he’ll go to sleep early, but strangely, drowsiness doesn’t come.

“There’s a ton of manga in this room.” At Kagiura’s prompting, he decides to begin reading a volume—it’s halfway through the series, but it’s just a gag manga.

He was under the impression that reading while lying down makes your eyes bad, but there are no chairs, so it’s the most comfortable position.

Have the younger kids fallen asleep already?

When it occurs to him to check the clock, it’s drawing near midnight.

When did that happen? Surprised, he looks over at Kagiura beside him.

Up until yesterday, he would always be asleep long before this time, but right now he’s wide awake.

“Kagi-kun, you’re not tired?”

“Nah. We had a slow morning, so I’m fine.”

Ah, that’s right. With the night bus arriving so late, he’d gotten to sleep in three hours longer than on days he has practice.

Hirano, who like Kagiura is not a morning person, had also slept in quite a long time today.

But if they don’t sleep soon, before they know it they’ll be ringing in a new day.

“We should go to bed soon, though.”

“Wait, just a little longer.”

“Hm? Didn’t you already get to a good stopping point in your book?”

The manga had already been put away, and Kagiura’s the one who finished getting ready for bed first, but for some reason he shakes his head.

No sooner has he pulled his sling bag towards him than he has withdrawn a small paper bag.

“Your birthday.”

Hirano’s eyes grow wide at Kagiura, who had passed him the bag as he spoke.

“.....Huh?”

At first, he’s surprised.

After a moment, he glances at the clock, and lets out a little huff of laughter.

It is August 1st, 12:00 a.m. on the dot.

He’d managed to get the time to the minute—and Hirano’s giving his abs quite the workout, suppressing his laughter out of respect for the fact that it’s the middle of the night.

Kagiura is stumped by Hirano’s laughter, which had continued for a while, but eventually he smiles, as Hirano certainly seems satisfied with the present, firmly clutching it in his hands.

Kagiura is stumped by Hirano’s silent laughter, which had continued for quite a while, but eventually he smiles, apparently satisfied by the fact that Hirano’s clutching the present tightly.

“Happy birthday, Hirano-san.”

“Dude, you’re such a try-hard! ….Thanks. Ah, sorry for laughing.”

He’s as overjoyed as he is shocked.

He hasn’t said as much, but with the way he can’t stop grinning, he probably doesn’t have to.

“I’m glad you’re happy about it!”

Hirano’s pretty sure his own expression now matches the soft smile on Kagiura’s face.

He checks the contents of the bag to find a small box. It’s clearly some kind of accessory.

“Now what do we have here?” With a feeling of trepidation, Hirano opens the box with a click. Inside is a set of earrings in an understated blue color lined up within the velvet fabric.

“These are…”

“I’ve been thinking it’d be a shame if your piercings closed up. Wear them every day, Hirano-san.”

“Yeah.” He nods, then goes to the mirrored dresser in the corner of the room to put them in.

The holes really have started to close, and rather than allowing the earrings through smoothly, they feel slightly obstructed.

After affixing them to each ear, he goes to stand in front of Kagiura, whose eyes are crinkled in apparent satisfaction. Like this, it is unclear which one of them had received a gift.

It’d be easy to lose them if he wore them to sleep, so Hirano takes them out soon afterward, but he’ll wake up before Kagiura tomorrow and put them in first thing.

Having made up his mind, Hirano went to sleep.

And how soft he felt.

*****

Long chapter, but we made it 😭🙏 I feel so bad it took me this long to get chapter 3 out to yall but the past 6 months have been nothing but suffering and I've basically been working on this in bits and pieces around all the other bs I've been juggling. Thanks for being patient with me!

T/N: (1) I don't know what this is called in English. I don't think it even has a name in English though I feel like I've seen it in some houses here. Basically, it's when you walk into a house and there's a step beyond the foyer leading to the rest of the house. Like this

(2) Obon is an annual event meant for honoring your ancestors. Families tend to get together and visit their family graves, and it's believed that the spirits of the deceased visit household alters. So Hirano thinks that the reason Kagi wanted to come at a different time from the rest of his family is because it might be weird to have a friend hanging around during Obon, but really it's just because Kagi wanted to be able to celebrate Hirano's birthday with him lol

(3) I don't think this is true I have no idea why he thinks this lmao (but then again, it'd be explain my terrible eyesight, so maybe he's onto something)

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A very big thank you to reading list members @jeizet, @jujupanic, @massyworld, @umbreonwolfy, and @acidsuzanne-blog (who tumblr won't let me tag for some reason?) You guys are the reason I'm still doing this and I'm very grateful for your support 🥹

#wow im tired #hirano to kagiura #hirano and kagiura #hirano to kagiura light novel #hirano to kagiura translation #kagihira #hirano taiga #kagiura akira #harusono shou

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denjirv · 2 years

Text

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚Dream Boy˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Who'd knew Chainsaw Man of all people would be the boy of your dreams? Or in fact be the one to save you from yourself

CW// Mentions of Suicide, Depression and Grief of family loss and a slightly suggestive ending. (At most reader is just on top of Denji ) Crashing waves against your feet you look out into the distance. There was always something so calming about the ocean and the smell of the salt water. The rough almost itchy feeling of the sand against your feet, you admire the sunset one last time before school starts. School without your parents being there to walk you. Not having to pose in front of the gate while you give your best genuine smile. The feeling of their embrace as they wish you luck on another school year. It’s times like these you wish younger you didn’t take things for granted. As you pick up your slippers back up you walk away from the shores as the night wind consumes you. Another day without them, another month of loneliness and a year of silence School started early. You woke up early only cause you barely slept, you put on your uniform and fixed your hair. You know your mother would’ve said something about the strands peeking out and helping you fix it. You grabbed your things before walking to the school. Everyone else had people they were talking to but you walked alone. You felt so disinterested in class. Twirling the pencil around your fingertips you yawn as you listen to your teacher explaining something to the class, the sound of chalk writing on the blackboard muffling more and more you get lost in your mind. It was only till the school bell rang that you woke up from your daze. Luckily it was lunch so you headed all the way back up to the school building. You stare down at the ground, it looks high from up here. You look through your bag but you realized how dumb you were, you forgot your lunch at home so the empty space where a bento box would be is gone You groan to yourself as you place your bag down and look out in the distance. The sound of your stomach growling filling the empty space of silence. As you were about to head off a boy tapped your shoulder. “Hey you can have this, I bought another steam bun without realizing it so you can have it!” The blonde boy with his sharp toothy grin looks over at you. His eyes were full of light contrasting to yours which were tired and baggy. You gently took the steam bun as you unwrap it, the design had the titular “hero” Chainsaw Man. You took a bite out of it which calmed your stomach down. “So what’s your name? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before” “Hmm? Oh it’s Y/N” You took another big bite out of the steam bun, it was really warm in your mouth and very filling. “Oh that’s a cool name! Hey, are you doing anything after school?” Denji looked a bit fidgety though. Like he was nervous, not to mention the red on his cheek was pretty much noticeable. “Yeah I’m free I guess…” You paused when you noticed his blushing. “Hey you ok? You got a fever?” “Wha- Oh yeah yeah totally fine! Yeah yeah hehe..” Denji’s face was starting to glisten a bit from the sun. A smile curled awkwardly. He looked away and scratched the back of his head. “Ok so maybe I’m just a bit nervous. It ain’t like I had talk to a person that hasn’t killed me before you know” “Say what now?” You tilted your head. What does he mean by that exactly? “Oh well, You know I'm pretty popular! All the ladies love me” Denji’s mood suddenly burst up as he kept on talking. “If you didn’t know, I’m Chainsaw Man!” You paused. For a moment you thought he was just a average schoolboy, oh no you’re wrong He’s a absolute loser “Uhuhh, well then prove it to me” You played along. Maybe it shouldn’t be in your best interest to play into this boy’s fantasy but whatever. It’s probably the last time you’ll be here and might as well do something new. “After school! Since you’ll be the first to see my greatness before everyone else” He had that toothy grin, that dumb, stupid, toothy grin. The one that screams an overly confident person that isn’t even aware of its own stupidity. “Count that as a deal then, ‘Chainsaw Man’” The bell rings on cue as you crumble the wrapper in your hand. “Well I expect greatness from you, don't disappoint” Even for a moment you didn’t believe him you smiled to yourself as you head off. “Can’t believe I really agreed on seeing a boy after school” You thought to yourself while you stared into space. You can’t really understand why but suddenly the room and surroundings have gotten darker. It was less vibrant than the last time you spoke to that strange boy. The day passes like a flash as the school bell rings and everyone has left. Packing your things you head down to the front of the school. And there he was. Chainsaw Man talking to that pretty boy of the school, The dark haired boy notices you as he nudges the blonde boy to look over. “Oh you’re here! See I was waiting for you the entire time!” He looked like a dog, if he had a tail it would’ve been wagging. “Yeah, you know I can’t miss this outstanding opportunity” Although being a bit sarcastic it flew right over his head as he grabbed your hand and started heading to where he wanted to take you. Turning around to wave by the tall boy he spoke to earlier. Your feet betraying your balance as you looked at him confused. “W-Where are you taking me?!” “To the beach! No one’s around there much but it’s the perfect spot” He turns to look at you. “Plus the cafe is closed already so why not!” Was he really gonna expose himself in front of you and a million people? But the wind blowing through his blonde hair was captivating at best. The golden hour of the sun was making him look almost handsome. But you shook your head as you headed over to the beach. “Oh here, I’ve been here before….” You look out at the ocean, the crashing waves and the very few people that were present at the beach. You look over at the boy as he takes off his shoes. “Having sand in your shoes sucks, now come on!” He started heading over to the shore. His figure getting smaller from a distance. You started to take off your shoes before heading down carefully. For the most part he was just goofing off. Kicking the water to you as you backed away, it was really cold and the fall weather wasn’t helping at all. But as he kept tormenting you kicked back and actually got on his pants. He looked up at you in surprise of your action “Ah- I’m sorry uh, I didn’t mean to-” But before you can apologize he suddenly starts laughing and kicks the water back to you. You get some on your uniform as you start to smile a bit more. Kicking and chasing as the water splashes beneath you two before Denji finally tackles you to the ground. He kept you there though as the two of you laugh Little did the two of you know a wave was crashing by as it consumed the two of you for a moment. Drenching you in the water but you were too distracted to care, too distracted to even get worried as you pushed him off of you. His blonde hair dripping wet and your hair falling over your face, you two helped each other up. “That was fun! You seriously gotta loosen a bit more” He nudges you playfully. You stifle a laugh. “Well it’s not like everyday some boy takes me away to the beach” You rested your head on your knees as the two of you sat and watched the view. “Well since we are alone, got anything you wanna ask?” He turns to look at you, hands propped behind him as he looks out into the distance. “Obviously first your name, and second…show me who you are” You glanced over at him waiting for a response. “I’m Denji Hayakawa! But if you really want me to show you my Chainsaw man form then hmmm” He looked up, fingers on his chin as if he was thinking. “Tell me something about yourself” You tense up, you weren’t all that interesting to begin with, you were just depressed maybe but that can't carry anything of value. “I’m uh….I like animals?” You even seemed unsure. “Well, people telling each other their deep dark secrets builds friendships! I’ve already told you mine so what about you?” You weren’t sure why, or what even made you say it but you spilled something that made Denji smile almost look blank. “I’m…probably gonna leave school tomorrow, or just leave entirely” Denji’s smile faded a bit. Sure sarcasm throws him off but that sounds oddly familiar. He didn’t know it yet but he’s been there before. He lets you continue on though. “If it wasn’t for today, I would’ve made a really big mistake” The sound of the ocean waves filling the air in such a dreary manner. “But, I’m glad you gave me that steam bum” stared off into the waves. Your expressions soften without realizing it. “I’m also glad you got my uniform wet and made me chase you around the entire time” Letting out a weak chuckle you felt yourself being pulled against Denji. It was his arm “My uh, my brother told me that sometimes people like to be touched when needing comfort” He looked down but instantly felt like he made a mistake. “Unless you don’t want me to! Then that’s fine” You felt his warm touch leave your body but before he can fully pull away you placed it back. “It’s fine, I…I really like it” You closed your eyes as you enjoyed his presence. “Well since you told me your secret, that means you can see my chainsaw man form” He looked down at you as you tilt your head up curiously. You looked really pretty from this angle though. “There’s a cord under my shirt, you can pull it and then I’ll transform!” You were a bit unsure though. So you move as you turn over to him. “If you say so, but I don’t like you sitting like this.” You suddenly pushed Denji on his back. Letting out a noise he looked over at you as you maneuver over to his lap, holding back a small chuckle at his deep red expression You felt his shirt and felt a cord and string. Lifting up his shirt you wrap a finger around the silver cord piece. But before pulling you leaned in close to his face. “You better be telling the truth to me, Denji” And as you pull the cord suddenly Vrrrrrrmmmm

#chainsaw man x reader #Chainsaw man #chainsaw man denji #denji x y/n #denji x reader #csm x reader #denji <3

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greenorangevioletgrass · 2 years

Note

BRO, ik I told you already but part two was SO good (like, not that I expected else but damn), I already reread the whole story haha

I'd love to read the blurb for "From Eden" by Hozier.

For reasons 👉🏻👈🏻

Luv uuu! 💕

Ho-ho-hozier! It’s the god of filthy sex and poetics, so what better way to celebrate his music with some sexy time???

warnings: rooster is promoted, also rooster is a goodboi, smut [sub!rooster, softdom!reader, dirty talk, praise, orgasm denial, face sitting, unprotected sex]

***

Bali is heaven.

The infinity pool in your ocean-view villa sits right at the edge of the cliff with the beach down below, you’re a short scooter ride away from bars and restaurants and shops—although you spend most of your time staying in, fucking like rabbits…

“Mrs. Bradshaw,” he gushes as he lies back against the headboard, admiring how the white silk chemise falls over your curves. The V-neck dips low, down to your torso, and trimmed with lace. It’s so simple and classy and in the soft glow of the night lamp, you look positively angelic.

“Commander Bradshaw,” you throw a lazy two-finger salute as you walk over to him, climbing onto his lap.

His rough hands glide softly against the fabric over your thigh. It’s just a tad longer than your other lingerie pieces, and it’s somehow driving him nuts. “God, I can’t wait to ruin you in this,” he growls into your lips, seizing you into a searing kiss.

“Bold of you to assume I’m not the one ruining you.” you pull away with a coy smirk.

And if he was nuts before, he’s gone completely batshit now. “Oh?”

“Mm-hm.” you run your manicured nails along his abs, “In fact, why don’t we play a little game right now?”

You shift a little and feel him stiffening against your ass. He is fucked. “I’m, uh, I’m listening.”

“I’m gonna spoil you tonight,” you state simply, purring in his ear. “With my hands, my mouth, my cunt…” you nibble his earlobe and you know you’ve got him —hook, line and sinker.

“What’s the catch?”

“The catch?” you hum in contemplation as you shift lower and lower until you’re level with his cock. All veiny and hard and leaking at the tip. You take him in your mouth, a lot of him at once, and he hisses between his teeth. “You can’t curse.”

“What the f—”

“Ah. Quitting already?” you tear your mouth off of him just as swiftly, raising your eyebrow at him in challenge.

He clenches his jaw and he answers, almost petulantly, “No.”

“Good boy,” and just before you return your mouth to his cock, “At ease, sailor.”

“I’m an aviator.”

“Whatever.”

He scoffs, equally offended and aroused by how easily you dismissed him, although it’s soon replaced with a gasp as he hits the back of your throat. Jesus Christ. You’ve got his brain in his mouth, and right now he can’t think. His mind is hazy on chasing the pleasure in the warmth of your mouth.

And as his hand finds the back of your head, a devilish smile blooms on your lips. You let go of him, relishing in the frustrated whine he makes, and grabs his wrist. “Rule number two: no touching.”

“Are you fu—” he stops, catching himself, and takes a bracing breath. “Are you serious?”

“Deadly.”

“You know I’m a lot stronger than you, right?”

“I know, but…” you hum, casually stroking along his length, “I’ve also got my hand wrapped around your dick, baby. Literally and figuratively. And if you so much as graze a finger on me or say a bad word, then it’s game over. You understand?”

He hates you so much. “Fine,” he begrudgingly obliges. But of course, he’s not gonna go down without a fight. “If I’m good to you, will you let me inside you?”

Just as you figured out how to flip the switch in him, he also knows how to get under your skin. And he knows that you’re also struggling to resist him.

“You’ll have to get me nice and ready first.” You push him so he’s lying on his back.

He already knows what’s coming, even before you clamber up, hiking the dress to expose your glistening folds, and he has to consciously bite his tongue to keep from swearing. He knows if he just opens his mouth, you’ll drip right onto him and he’ll lose it.

“You remember your rules?”

“No cursing, no touching.”

“You remember how to tap out?”

He snaps his fingers three times.

“Mm. Gonna ride your face now, okay?”

Rooster nods, looking up your skirt earnestly. Eyes falling closed when his tongue finds your slit. For a moment, the torture seems worth it. Yes, he’s about to cut his hand open by digging his nails so deep as he fists the bed sheets. And yes, he’s thinking about all the curse words known to man. But she’s also grinding into his face, fingers buried in his hair, sighing out shit baby I’m gonna fucking cum fuck fuck fuck—

If he ever drowns in your pussy, he figures it’s the best way to go.

You move down to his lap again, a little less graceful this time having just come down from an orgasm. Kissing away the arousal smeared on the corners of his mouth, his chin, his nose.

“Good boy…” you soothe a hand along his face. “Guess it’s time for your reward, huh?”

He leans up, chasing you for a proper kiss. “Yes, please.”

And as you sit on his cock, taking all of him inside you, a single strap of your dress slides off of your shoulder, exposing your hard nipple on top of the soft swell of your tits. He’s not sure whether it’s you or God or both, but he’s this close to coming.

And you can see that. Hell, you can feel it. And of course, you’d try to hold it against you. “Oh! Almost forgot to tell you the last rule.”

Fuck.

“No cumming until I say you can.”

His head falls back against the pillow with a groan.

“Told you I was gonna ruin you,” you goad him smugly.

The rules do not apply to you —you’re free to touch and curse and come as you please. Rubbing your clit and rolling your hips and bouncing on his dick like your life depends on it. And through it all, you count how many times he got close and begs for release.

“Baby please, I’m gonna—“

“Aw, but you look so good like this, Roo.” Chest heaving, cheeks blushing, eyes watery and unfocused from your undoing. “Just give me one more, okay? One more, and then I’ll let you fill me up with your cum and watch it leak out of me.”

“Oh my God…” he nods weakly, letting you bring him to the edge, and pull back until the sudden loss of sensation sets him on fire.

He’s shivering under you, flexing inside you, and you’re certain he’s aching now. With your thighs clamped securely on his waist, you flip the two of you over so he’s on top.

“Go on. Cum inside me, Bradley.”

In the years of your relationship, you mostly refer to him by Roo, an affectionate form of his callsign, or other terms of endearment such as baby, sweetheart, etc. Bradley is strictly saved for special occasions, and right now it sets something off in his head.

Something that drives his hips to slam into you at an ungodly speed. Fucking you so good that you’ve forgotten the rules you set for him, and guides his hand between your legs.

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna cum,” he pants out, pressing your clit just a touch harder. And as your walls clench around him, it’s game over. “Fuck!”

He swears he blacks out for a moment, and when he comes to, his whole body weight flops on top of you. He tries to lift himself off of you, but you whimper. Wrapping your limbs around his back.

“It’s okay, baby. Just… just stay here for a sec.” You run your hand gently along his spine, nails lightly scratching his skin.

And in the arms of his wife, devilish as she might be underneath the angelic facade, he finds peace.

#the actress & the aviator #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x actress!reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster imagine #rooster x reader #rooster smut #ava writes

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gtenvs3000w24 · 4 months

Text

01: My relationship with nature.

Hi everyone! I’m a 4th year zoology student at the University of Guelph, and welcome to my blog! For this first blog I’ll be talking about my relationship with nature and how it has evolved.

Since I was a kid I have always had a large interest in nature, especially with animals. Growing up in Milton, a very fast-growing city, I took every chance I could get to go outside and be more connected with nature. I think my earliest memory of this is when I would go for walks with my parents and my Grandad when I was about four years old. There was a very short walking trail near my house that had an apple tree, and we would walk there every week to pick apples. While it was a very short and simple experience, I remember really enjoying just going outside and spending time with my family.

As I got a little bit older, me and my family would frequently drive to local conservation areas a lot of the time to go for walks in the forests. Most of the time I would spend those walks looking for any animals I could find. My favourite time of year to do these walks was in the winter because I found the snow-covered trees very pretty and peaceful. Winter was always my favourite season as a kid, and I spent a lot of time playing outside in the snow with my brother.

One place that has always been special to me is Crawford Lake. This is the conservation area that me and my family went to most of the time, and it is still one of my favourite places to go for walks. I always found the boardwalk around the lake to be very peaceful and fun to walk along as a kid. I would frequently stop to look over the railings for snapping turtles in the water below me, and while I only got to see them one time, it was something I won’t forget. I also went there for many school field trips. I remember our tour guide telling us ghost stories about things that had happened at the lake, and while those stories scared me as a kid, I think they helped me feel more connected to the place.

Another place that I have always had a strong connection to is the pond my Grandma has in her backyard. Since I was little I remember it being one of my favourite places to be. I spent a lot of time there with my brother and cousins just looking for frogs, and looking at the koi fish that lived in the pond. I now have three cousins who are all under the age of ten on that side of my family, and so I love to go look for frogs and fish with them like I did when I was their age.

I think one of my favourite places I have been is Nova Scotia. This is where my uncle and his family live, and I have gone there twice to visit them. Being there feels so much different from living in the fast-paced city that I’m used to, as it is much more peaceful and laid back. I spent two weeks there this summer living at my uncle's house near Lunenburg, and it was an experience that really stuck with me. My uncle lives in a house that he built, in a forest by a river. It was such a relaxing experience to be there, and to take little day trips out to the ocean everyday. Hearing the history behind the sites such as Peggy’s Cove and the town of Lunenburg really stuck with me too. I have always loved being by the ocean, and sometimes I think about moving there one day because of how amazing it was to be there. Even though I have only spent about 3 weeks in total there, I think it offered me that “sense of place.” (I’ve included some pictures I took in Nova Scotia below!)

I could talk about many other experiences that have connected me to nature, but these are just a few that have shaped my relationship with it today. Overall, especially being a zoology student, nature is a very important part of my life!

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ristoranteivorykeys · 2 years

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twst mermay 7 — merschool

in which azul visits a middle school reunion and meets his old bullies ft. azul ashengrotto and unnamed mers

╰┈➤ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: this has to be the hardest one i’ve written so far 😭 i had the idea to write about azul meeting his bullies again in a middle school reunion (so technically meeting the theme of merschool, just not in an actual merschool :P). however, brainstorming was difficult because i really wanted to write azul’s thought process when it comes to his insecurities regarding the bullying very well. there is imagery of a tightrope in this particular fic because i wanted to play with the idea of dorm azul being a balanced ssr card. (⌒▽⌒) along with that and the current situation in the ph being stressful, this took far too long to write T_T i hope i wrote him well here :’D i want to write my favorite character well ╰┈➤ 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐨: mermay masterlist

Every day, Azul walks on a tightrope.

It would be a skywalk, the rope connecting between two of the tallest skyscrapers and overlooking busy streets and the expanse of the blue ocean beyond. Thin clouds kissing his face and cold winds tousling his hair, he would take his first step on the wire and walk with a grace and care every ballerina would envy. The audience below would watch with bated breath, waiting for the moment his foot would slip, waiting for the moment that he would fall. But Azul won’t allow that. No matter what he does or what he says, he’ll remain perfect and poised, cool and composed. And if it tickles his fancy, he’ll perform for the crowd. All the tricks up his sleeve, all the magic that tingles in his fingers. Azul will wow the crowd, through his talents and through his perfect balance.

Of course, not literally so. If he were to walk on such a thin wire, he’d just place one foot on the wire, and he’ll already find himself wobbling and struggling to gain balance before resting his foot back on more solid ground.

But in his every action, every word, every feeling, there is always delicate care put into deciding those things. Because one wrong action, one wrong word, one wrong feeling will cause his foot to slip and cause his fall.

And after all that work put into studying and magic practice, by the Great Seven, Azul does not wish to return to the bottom of the ocean, back to his lowest point in his life.

See, if he decided on his own, Azul would not have gone to the reunion of his old classmates.

Those same classmates once mocked him and laughed at him, calling his legs ugly and laughing at his stupidity and slowness. He would never forget every single word that spat out of their ugly mouths or their unkind eyes that taunted him, and he didn’t want to have to see those faces again. No, of course he isn’t scared of them, it’s simply a matter of not wanting to see them again for the sake of not wanting to cross again a bridge he already traversed.

But dear old mother, with her restaurant’s excellent reputation under the sea, was called to be a caterer to the party. Dear old mother, having gone through a divorce while he was bullied, has no idea on the trauma of her son, so she urged him to go, and as much as he hates to admit it, Azul is weak to his mama. So now, he floats alone by the buffet table, watching each of his former classmates.

Keep that balance, he tells himself, keep yourself under control. He hates to admit it, but it did hurt to hear that Jade and Floyd wouldn’t be coming to this reunion due to a family event. He understands. Of course he understands that they couldn’t always be there with him. But it feels cold without Floyd’s spontaneity and Jade’s scheming. He’s so used to knowing that there was someone to catch him if ever he should fall from the tightrope. They would catch him and say that it was all part of the act, and Azul could keep his confident smirk up, knowing that his performance remains impeccable.

Now, it feels like the two things he held onto in his act decided to let go, and suddenly, he’s all too aware of the people watching him.

All too aware of his former classmates surrounding him.

He hates the joy on their faces and the laughter coming out of them. Is this their new way of mocking him now, to show that they have friends and he doesn’t? His nose burns with anger. He starts to feel his emotions taking over his head.

In his act, his foot takes a step a bit too far to the left.

Wait, but if they haven’t changed, surely they would have the same insecurities and desires as before. Azul’s eyes scan each of his classmates. He recites all their names in his mind, all their likes and dislikes, all their worries and wishes that they expressed to himself. That’s right, he still has his magic and his charisma. He can do it again. He can show them who truly is the powerful one.

He feels himself regain his balance. He isn’t going to let a single thought ruin his act.

“Azul sweetie.” His mom taps him on the shoulder, and he turns to face her. On her other hand, she holds a tray of freshly made snacks. “Share these with your old classmates!”

Ah, of course. His friends may not be with him now, but his mom is. He knows the glint in her eyes—the kind that appears when she wants him to do something else aside from the assigned task. And more often than not, whatever she wants him to do tends to help him with his own plans. So he takes the tray from her hand with a smile. “Of course, mother.”

Tray in hand, Azul swims to a group of six mers. He recognizes each face. That one expressed insecurities of being in the shadow of his older brother, that other one was vying to have a partner, and there’s the kid who wanted to have…

“Ah, pardon me for interrupting,” he speaks up, interrupting the conversation. “My mother made a fresh batch. Do any of you like to have some?”

“Oh, sure,” everyone’s eyes glimmer over the food presented to them, and one by one, each of them reaches out to have a snack.

Good, all according to plan.

“Wait a minute.” One of the mers takes a better look at him, briefly scanning his face. “Is that really you, Azul Ashengrotto?”

Azul blinks. The question leaves him stunned for a moment. “Ah, yes, it is me.”

“Oh wait, yeah,” another exclaims, swimming closer towards the octopus mer. “No way, I didn’t recognize you!”

“Me neither. You look so different from before,” yet another points out with a smile on her face. “How’ve you been? It’s been a while.”

Are they playing a joke on me? He thinks angrily to himself. There is no way that they wouldn’t remember him, let alone act friendly to him. Him, the dumb, clumsy octopus that they laughed at. Liars, they’re all liars, aren’t they? They’re trying to get his guard down so that he could relax enough until he loses his balance and falls from the tightrope and into their trap.

“Ah, I’ve been doing fine,” he answers the mer smiling at him, his voice remaining amicable and even. Yet in his mind, he feels the rope he balances on shaking from the anger boiling in him. That same smile on her face was once aimed at him when she mocked him for being slow in PE classes at least sixty-four times within two years. What is she planning this time? To catch him off-guard? To goad him into accusing her for having bullied him before and ultimately make him appear to be the bad guy? No, he isn’t going to let her, or any of them, win against him.

“School has made me rather busy, so I’m glad to be home for vacation,” Azul continues right away, keeping the same evenness in his voice.

“Wait, what school are you in right now, Ashengrotto,” one of the mers asks him.

“Ah, I’m studying at Night Raven College,” he answers casually, ensuring none of his anger leaks to his voice.

Much to his surprise, everyone’s eyes widen, and their jaws drop in an almost comical manner.

“No way!”

“That’s so cool!”

“How is it like over there?!”

“How does it feel to be on land?”

“Did you see the Sea Witch’s statue?!”

Each of them leans forward as they ask their questions, and Azul feels his heart beating just a bit faster. He remembers a similar incident when he was 7 years old—when these same people backed him into a corner and spat their insults at him. He moves back just a bit, putting his hands up in a gesture to slow down. “Excuse me, perhaps one question at a time would be better.”

Please back away, is the silent plea that Azul would never say out of pride. It’s already bad enough to feel his mentality wobble like the tightrope under his feet, threatening him with the possibility of falling to an audience that seems to be all the more eager to watch his demise.

“Oh, oops.” The mers back away.

“Sorry sorry, I got carried away.”

The tightrope stabilizes. It feels easier to breathe, easier to regain his balance. Surely, they aren’t pretending to be kind, right? Yet, he doesn’t sense malice in their voices, but they appear to be genuinely sorry for being overexcited.

He should take this slow. If he is going to exploit their weaknesses again, at the very least, he can entertain their questions and control the conversation from there.

“Okay, first question, how is Night Raven like,” one mer asks.

“Well… It’s fascinating,” he answers slowly. “There are numerous things that they teach there that schools here won’t provide, and they have a lot of resources for things like alchemy experiments. Night Raven College is also a meritocracy, so it motivates you to work harder to achieve more and earn more respect. They also teach a lot about the Sea Witch and the other Great Seven that schools here would never teach you about, so history classes are also very enriching.”

“Yo, that sounds awesome,” one mer exclaims. “I’m so jealous. I wanted to go to Night Raven.”

“Me too,” another answers. “I applied, but I got rejected.”

Ah, that’s right, Azul thinks. Night Raven College gets a lot of applicants around the world, but it only accepts around 200 students out of at least 20,000. A small bit of pride swells in his chest upon realizing that he was able to make it to an esteemed school where others failed—including those who hurt him. There’s something there that he can use.

“Wait, what’s your dorm,” another mer asks.

Pushing his thoughts away, Azul answers: “I’m in Octavinelle.”

“Oooh, who’s your dorm head? My older brother was a dorm head there, so I’m kinda curious,” the same mer asks.

“Currently, I hold the position.” He smiles with pride as he responds.

Everyone gasps. Their gazes seem even more astounded than when they found out where he studied, and if this were a cartoon, their jaws would drop all the way to the floor.

“Really?!”

“No way, Octavinelle’s dorm leader?!”

“Holy seahorse!”

“Wait, so are you the one who’s running Mostro Lounge,” one mer asks. “I heard that Octavinelle had a restaurant, and I always wanted to try it from what some of my friends there said.”

“Yes, I am.” Azul feels himself ease into his businessman facade from the mention of his restaurant. “It’s a gentleman’s place where we serve dishes from around the world to cater to the diversity of the school. Typically, we only serve the students since the campus is off-limits to outsiders, but we welcome all customers when the gates are open! We have our own website, where you can check out the menu and our special offers.”

Their eyes sparkle, ‘oohs’ elicited from their mouths.

“Ooooh, I’m now really excited to try! I should tell my mom to get us a potion to go to Night Raven next time!”

“Same same! It sounds so good. I gotta look it up later.”

As everyone talks about their plans to check out his restaurant, Azul’s smile widens. He can almost smell the mo—ahem, rather, he can almost imagine the smiles on their faces the moment they try the food in Mostro Lounge.

“Dang, you’re really impressive, Ashengrotto,” says one of the mers, turning his attention back to Azul.

His smile vanishes, replaced with eyes widened slightly from surprise. “Huh?”

“Yeah no, like, I thought you wouldn’t get any more accomplished honestly,” another speaks up. “You were kinda known for having the best magic in class, so I was already kinda jealous of you. But then you went to Night Raven, then you ended up being a dorm leader and a restaurant owner two years after middle school?”

“And you’re so confident too,” yet another speaks up, the same mer who mocked him for his slowness sixty-four times years ago. “I honestly feel a bit bad for myself now.”

“Same!”

“Me too! Just hearing this makes me realize how little I’ve been doing.”

“My grades have been dropping a lot from middle school, I’m really sad.”

They start talking again, almost as if he isn’t with them. But Azul doesn’t interrupt them, as he listens intently to each and every word the same way he listened for any weaknesses he could exploit. Except that he isn’t thinking anymore of exploiting their weaknesses.

If anything, listening to them brings in an odd feeling. It’s blue, but it’s not sad. Rather, it’s the blue part of the ocean that sits between the light of the shallow area and the darkness of the ocean’s depths. It has the sunniness and peace of the higher sea level, but there’s a certain darkness as well.

All his life, he walked on tightropes, balancing on a precarious line so that he doesn’t lose to anything or anyone again. In his every action, every word, every feeling, there always needs to be delicate care put into deciding those things because one wrong action, one wrong word, one wrong feeling will cause his foot to slip and cause his fall. And one fall would bring him back to the ground where fishes mocked him for his legs and ink.

But it never occurred to him to step down to the other end of the line, to see that he actually made it to the other side, to see how high up he truly is compared to the audience that he feared and loathed.

An audience that never did anything fruitful, unlike himself.

I… won.

Part of Azul is slightly bitter. He made his life harder for himself to satisfy a crowd that only booed at him and wished for his fall. He worked hard to be liked—and he worked hard for the wrong people. But another part of him is at peace. At peace knowing that he did it, that now, they’re the ones admiring him and giving such flattering comments to him now. But most importantly, at peace with knowing that he can stop looking back on them and their bullying when he grew to become better than them.

#twisted wonderland #twst #azul ashengrotto #twst mermay

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justice4daisyjohnson · 2 years

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summer time dress

wanda maximoff x reader

warning: i wrote this in ten mins, cliff hanger smut(?), mentions of sex

word count: 665

a/n: here’s a drabble since i’ve been so ia. im hoping to come back soon when i finish with school!! also im so excited to finally have inspiration to write someone that’s not just flo or yelena. im definitely going to continue writing for them but it’s like a breath a fresh air yk.

masterlist | taglist | requests: open

you and the avengers were all on vacations together, courtesy of tony stark. after the big month mission involving more than half of the team, you decided it was time for a vacation.

steve cleared it with fury and you were off to bali. you are so grateful to be out with all of your family relaxing for once and not beating someone's ass.

of course, your girlfriend wanda made this trip a whole lot better.

since you had taken off on the flight to bali you have, joined the mile high club, explored bali with wanda, and have gone skinny dipping with her.

since this is wanda's first vacation with the avengers, you were determined to make this whole trip amazing for the sokovian.

you love hearing wanda's giggles as you grab her from the waist and pull her into your body while water surrounds you.

ever since pietro almost died, but you caught him before it was too late, wanda has since had her eyes on you.

you of course, picked up on it and asked her on a date.

now you are here, waiting for the rest of the ladies to walk down to the beach when they were done getting ready.

tony had reserved a table at an amazing resturant near your beach house. you gave props to tony for finding an amazing beach house that would have the ocean right infront of it.

that was where you were waiting, the beach chairs now sit on the sand as you hear the waves crash down.

"how much longer do you think they will take?" steve asks, seemingly getting tired of the ladies taking their time.

"we still got time" you mention while checking your watch. you made sure to tell wanda to start getting ready earlier so she wouldn't have to hurry.

"twenty bucks says they won't come out in the next ten minuetes" tony challenges.

"i'll take that bet" clint says, opening his wallet.

"it is seemingly foolish to be betting with a billionair-"

"vision shut up" you say harshly. vision is quick to close his mouth.

you don't like the way he touches wanda, you don't know why he was even invited.

"here we go" steve says, as he watches sharon walk out the beach house and into the sand.

"the other girls are almost done" you nod at sharon and continue with your conversation with bucky.

five minutes later, clint is twenty dollars richer.

"hi baby" wanda says as she walks down along with natasha and pepper.

wanda was in a beautifully tight floral summer dress. you remember sending her a screenshot of this same dress a while ago, making a comment on how amazing she would look in it.

her long hair was down, just the way you liked it, and she was wearing no shoes.

"you look gorgeous" you say as wanda sits on your lap and circles her arms around your neck.

you grab on her waist and smile.

"thank you beb" wanda says, giving you a short kiss.

your wrapped hand starts to run on wanda's waist, you start to get confused when your hand goes a little lower and you don't feel her wearing any panties.

"it's summer dress season" you hear wanda say, you look up and see her smirk.

'it's still too early to leave, we can just hang out here for a couple minutes'

when you hear that, you smile and announce that you need to use the restroom. when wanda try's to sit back down on the chair you occupied, you grabbed her hand and made her follow you.

"you think you can get away with that?" you smirk, wrapping your arm around wanda's waist.

"i was hoping not to"

you groan, now walking faster into the house and into the room you and wanda shared.

you lift wanda on the bed and quickly pull her dress up, catching site of her dripping pussy.

"you just made a big mistake, baby doll"

#wanda marvel #wanda maximoff #college wanda #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff spoilers #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel

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imaginedreamwrite · 2 years

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sending in Saturday night but for soulmate Sunday….Lloyd and his soulmate, can we get a longer Drabble pretty pleaseee 🤍🤍🤍❤️❤️❤️🤭🤭🤭

You noticed his presence the moment he had crossed the threshold, the appearance of a man you had known well while you lived at home. His appearance should have stirred a feeling of homeliness and comfort for you however his sudden appearance had stirred wonder and caution.

Seeing the tall and rakish man as he walked toward you had set off a few warning bells in the back of your mind. The high pitched siren going off in your mind was instilling and stirring your desire to run, not walk, away from the news he would deliver to you.

“Miss,” he had stood behind you, his hands folded behind his back while his steely grey eyes, marred by the appearance of crows lines and few wrinkles had bared a heavy weight.

“Val,” you sighed and dropped your hands to the wooden cracked top and shifted toward him, staring your father’s close friend down, “its been a while. Things okay?”

“I wish I could tell you different.” Your father’s friend, and your respective and non-familial uncle had taken the spot next to you and set his hands on the top much like you had, fingers digging into the grooves of the wooden cracks as the weight of his unspoken presence had settled between you two.

“He’s dead, isn’t he?” You spoke of your father with adoration and forlorn longing, missing the man who was your whole world. “My father…he promised when I went to university that I wouldn’t have to hear about this…side of things.”

“Your father was a good man,” there was apparent and intense compassion and respect from Val, the years working for your father had resulted in deep loyalty, “he did bad things but he was a good man and he built himself a safety net for you.”

“How’s the wicked bitch of the west?” Your love was not extended to your mother, there was nothing but disgust and disdain for the woman who had birthed you but certainly hadn’t been a mother figure.

“She needs you to come home to bury your dad-“

“-she’d rather kick him into the ocean than bury him properly. She wants me home so the will can be read.” You sighed and traced your fingertips along the cracks in the wood, not caring for the possibility of getting slivers or the hurricane of your mother who was biting at the bit to get money that belonged to her.

“You should see your dad again.” Val rest his large hand on your shoulder and squeezed like a comforting uncle would have, only this man also had a ledger of red that ran longer than your mothers credit card bill.

“I love my dad, I’m going to miss him.” There was a sharp prick of pain, anguish and loss that was going to hit you soon.

After the initial shock of seeing Val after the three years since you’d been gone, you knew it would hit and it would hit hard. You would go home and mourn him, you would bury your father and give your mother what she wanted via the reading of the will, and then you would leave again.

You could come back to school, to your city and you would never deal with it again.

“Did she move her paramour into the house yet?” Your bile, your spite for your mother was unrelenting. “The man she was screwing behind my dad’s back?”

“Y/N,” Val had denied your statement and changed the subject to one that was just as unkempt, “your dad, he wasn’t always perfect-“

“Are there more buried secrets I don’t know about?”

“Your dad had your soulmate mark removed, because he recognized who your soulmate was.” Val didn’t give you time to process this in any matter, choosing to give you all the information first.

“He knew who your soulmate was and its…your dad has a lot of friends who are nefarious, like your dad could be…and he did what he had to to keep you safe.”

“He’s found me, hasn’t he?” You questioned, stirring ire. “My soulmate I’ve never met?”

“Lloyd Hansen,” Val spoke with caution, “I know you’ve heard the name. He’s also waiting for you.”

#soulmate Sunday #soulmate sundays #Lloyd Hansen & pumpkin #the start of their story

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fizzyxcustard · 2 years

Text

Ultimatum (2)

Masterlist of fan fiction

Part 1

Fandom: Robin Hood (BBC)

Pairings: Guy of Gisborne x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut, insecurity, ultimatums

Summary: You and Guy discuss your feelings for each other, and act on those feelings. However, you know that Guy can be a better man and can’t stand by to watch him fall into a pit of atrocity while serving under the Sheriff. Will Guy choose you or Sheriff Vaisey?

Comments/Notes: If you wish to be tagged in any of my tag lists for fics or characters, please let me know, and stipulate what you want to be tagged in.

This probably will turn into a short series.

I’ve also changed the plot a little. Marian never died, but instead has gone on the run with Robin.

You tossed and turned all of that night, still remembering the look in Guy’s eyes as he left your house. Frustration. Sadness. Regret, maybe? So many emotions all swarming in his steel blue eyes, like an ocean of turbulence. Would you ever truly understand him at his most deepest level?

You began to suspect now that Guy would never love you in the way you hoped. The position he held within Nottingham was all that mattered to him; you would always be a second best. That very thought cut through your chest and you exhaled sharp, closing your eyes.

Memories of your times together that day brought bittersweet tears to your eyes. His words, his movement, his passion. Was all of that just a façade?

***

The next day and you went to your father, as always, to give him lunch. You held back an apple, keeping it in your apron.

“Are you alright?” your father asked. “You look tired.”

“I didn’t sleep too well last night. I’m fine,” you replied, giving him a forced smile.

The walk along the main corridor seemed to take forever. With every footstep you remembered each second that you were beside Guy the day earlier, as he took you to his bed chamber. Did he even know that that had been the day you lost your virginity? It had been the way you had always imagined it: given over to the man you loved in throes of passion. Other people had warned you that it would hurt and not be like all the fairy tales. True, there had been pain, but that hadn’t lasted long.

Suddenly you heard the quickening of footsteps behind you and turned to see Guy striding towards you. His face and walk was determined. Then he slowed as he came beside you.

It remained silent for a second and you stopped, looking up at him. Those eyes made your stomach perform summersaults.

“I…I…” he said, his voice breaking. “I’m….” He gripped your arm gently, and for a second you thought you saw tears in his eyes.

You said no more, but offered him a smile and handed over the apple that you had kept.

Guy stared at the apple and then looked at you, and drew his hand up to your face. But you moved away and slipped on up the corridor, leaving him to stay locked in place, watching you go.

Was all of this worth it? This life of being a bastard, a fairly rich one with plenty of power, but no friends. The apple that he held in his hand was the only sign of friendship in his life.

***

The following day and Guy woke to the first hint of sun bursting in the sky over the horizon. He held his arm across the bed, feeling the empty space beside him. It mirrored that hole in his gut which seemed to burrow right down to his soul.

He imagined you lying there, propped on your arm, smiling. You would have watched him wake, brushed your hand through his raven hair, leaned in for a kiss. Maybe even allowed him to take you again like he had the night before and every night that you had been together. But it was only a dream. A far off dream. Being Vaisey’s lieutenant was all he knew and what he was good at. There was nothing else he was good at or skilled to do. Combat, trickery, manipulation and force were the only skills that Guy of Gisborne possessed in his arsenal.

Guy rolled over, slamming down onto his back.

Something caught his eye, something that should not have been there on the floor.

He slipped out of bed, barefoot and bare-chested, wearing only a pair of black breeches which were pulled in at the waist by a drawstring.

It was an envelope that was on the floor.

He opened the envelope eagerly, and immediately recognised your handwriting.

My dearest Guy,

I cannot remain in this town knowing that there is a good man inside you, but watch you be shackled by the Sheriff. I love you far too much to stand by and allow you to fall further into darkness.

I plan to leave Nottingham in three days from now, at nightfall. I will wait for you by the main gate, but if you do not come then I will know who really has your heart.

May God be with you.

You had signed your name at the bottom.

For all of that day, Guy looked out for you. But you never came to the castle. Instead, he went to look for you. You were not at home. You were not out in the market square. Even your mother had no idea of your whereabouts, but explained that your friend Sarah might know.

Sarah, the local blacksmith’s youngest daughter answered her door and looked at Guy with complete distain.

“Why should I tell you where she is? Does she owe tax?” Sarah spat.

“That’s none of your business. However, as you know, I do have my ways of finding out the information that I require.” He folded his arms and glared at Sarah. “You tell me where she is, or I can make sure that you owe tax.”

“You’re a bastard, you know? I have no idea what she even sees in you,” Sarah hissed. “She’s always been too trusting for her own good. I saw her this morning. She said she was going to Farmer Bill’s field.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Gisborne sighed, rolling his eyes. Then he left Sarah to mouth profanity under her breath.

You sat under a large oak tree which was situated in the corner of Bill’s field, near a hedgerow. In your mind you began to formulate a plan; steal your father’s keys to take one of the horses from the stables. Pull together all of your savings from under your bed. Hope with all your heart that Guy accompanied you.

A black figure began to get closer to you, forming from a small dot on the horizon. You exhaled and closed your eyes, preparing yourself for what would come next. No doubt he would attempt to talk you out of leaving. Accuse you of being unreasonable. Possibly tell you that he never loved you and all of this was just a grand plan to get into bed with you.

“Sarah told you where I was?” you asked, putting your hand to your face to stop the glare of the sun hitting your eyes.

Guy jumped down from the saddle of his horse. “With a little persuasion.”

“You’ve got to stop this,” you growled. “Being like this is only going to cause the number of your enemies to grow.”

“It never turned you into an enemy, did it?” Guy asked. He got down on the ground beside you and leaned his back against the tree trunk.

“You’re not coming. I know your answer,” you said, feeling that all too familiar pain form in your throat.

“Leaving isn’t the answer. You need to be realistic in life. No one got to the top of the chain by being holier than thou.”

Anger hit you in the chest. “That’s what you’re accusing me of? It’s not about being holier than thou. It’s about being a good person and having decent morals. Feeling compassion for people. Put yourself in someone else’s shoes for just one second, rather than only concentrate on yourself.”

Guy sighed, still resting back against the bark and looked at you. “That’s why I love you so much,” he said softly. “You care despite the bad in people. Your compassion and your optimism. They call to me.”

His words were like silk once more and they wrapped around you, pulling you in against your will.

You both kissed hard, and Guy pulled you into his lap, letting you straddle him.

You smiled as you heard Guy groan while you ground your hips against his. The realisation of what was happening hit you and you stopped, feeling Guy continue on kissing your neck. “I wish you loved me enough,” you whispered.

He looked at you, saddened by those words and loosened his grip on you, drawing back against the rough bark of the tree behind him. “You say you accept me for everything I am, but you can’t accept this. My work with the Sheriff is what will keep you, give us standing, give us stability. Don’t you want that at all?”

You shifted away from Guy and sat down beside him. “Of course I want that. But the means of which you’re getting it are what I can’t accept. I know why you do it; I just can’t stay and watch you continue to terrorise the surrounding villages at Vaisey’s say-so. We could move to another town, take our savings with us, and you can start again.”

“My standing here is partly through the family name.”

“And what have your family done in your life?” you spat. “Nothing. You carry a name, Guy, nothing else. Your family have practically abandoned you. Now that you’re facing the chance to start a proper family with me, and you still want to go back to them. You want to serve the ones who have only caused you pain and misery. I can’t keep doing this.”

You got to your feet, brushing any stray grass from your garments. Guy remained silent.

“I know your answer now. Nothing will change your mind, and nothing will change mine. Go back to the Sheriff. Carry on being the evil shadow that people cry about at night. I don’t care anymore.”

“You can’t….” Guy began.

“I can,” you hissed. “I still plan on leaving.”

Guy reached for your arm but you pulled away in anger.

“Let go of me.”

***

Follow Forever tag list: @lathalea @i-did-not-mean-to @linasofia @middleearthpixie @xxbyimm @guardianofrivendell @meganlpie @knitastically @sketch-and-write-lover @lilacpulse @spidergirla5 @msjava1972 @rachel1959 @asgardianhobbit98 @medusas-hairband @enchantzz @luna-xial @sunflwrnsunnieshine

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#Guy of Gisborne #Robin Hood #Richard Armitage #Fanfiction #Guy of Gisborne x Fem!Reader #Guy of Gisborne x You

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