#i wonder what the visions were like. i wonder how he felt about them
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My Husband has a Symbiote! Pt.4
Pt.1 ~ Pt.2 ~ Pt.3 ~ Pt.4
Relationship: Miguel O'Hara x AFAB! Reader
Word Count: 2.9k
Content: Miguel is showing off his breeding kink again, somnophilia, oral sex, pregnancy sex (kinda), MINORS DNI!!
Summary: It's the big thing you've all been waiting for.
A/N: Every time I write Miguel with a symbiote, I go crazy. He just brings that feral part out of me. Enjoy!
You felt exhausted.
The weight of your exhaustion felt like a ton. You could barely move your body, struggling to even get to the bathroom. You managed to make it to the sink as you leaned on it for support. Your eyes are fighting to keep open. All you wanted to do was rest.
“You should take Ravage.” Miguel stood close by, a hand on your back. His voice lingered with concern, “They'll make you feel better.”
You shook your head, “I had them the other day.” You agreed to take the symbiote once a week. Just so you wouldn't get addicted to having them attached to you. You didn't want to take advantage of using the alien either.
“You've been feeling this way for a few weeks. I don't like it, we should get you to a doctor.” You grimaced at your husband's concern. “Don't be like that. We have to see what's going on.”
You glared at him, annoyance brewing inside. “We’ve been having sex nonstop. Don't you think I'd be tired?”
“Obviously.” He rolled his eyes, “But you're never like this.”
“I'm fine, Miguel. I just need to sleep.” You brushed by him, completely forgetting whatever you were supposed to be doing in the bathroom. Instead, you burrowed yourself under the blankets, getting comfortable in bed.
You thought due to the constant love making your body had enough. Punishing you by making you sleep for hours on end. Only getting enough energy for potty breaks and to eat something. Before sleeping again. It was getting so bad that you had to take some days off of work. You were shutting yourself inside your bedroom, determined to rest.
On your days having Ravage, you felt normal. Going through your day-to-day routine with no issues. Not getting irritated at Miguel or eating your weight in food.
Ravage hummed in your mind as you worked, feeling rejuvenated. “Should we tell you?”
“Hm?” You perked up, “Tell me what?”
A guttural growl erupted from the alien, “But if we tell you, there will be little intercourse.”
“What? Ravage, what are you talking about?”
There was silence on their end. You wondered if they were just ignoring you. But you finally got a response, “Nothing.”
You weren't sure how to take the mysterious behavior. You didn't see any concern for you to bring it up to Miguel. Only forgetting about it when your symptoms came back after handing Ravage back. Maybe it was time to go to the doctor's.
Miguel was close by as he took you to HQ's infirmary. He was worried that if it was something the symbiote was doing to you, no regular doctor could fix it. You sat on the cot, lowered eyes watching your husband pace around the room. Your stomach churned thinking about how you made him stress over you. Due to your stubbornness of not wanting to be seen. Hopefully, this was just a really bad cold so he wouldn't have to worry.
While explaining your symptoms, your spider-doctor, that's what you usually called them, lit up with an idea. And didn't elaborate further when saying they wanted to perform some tests. Miguel stayed by your side, holding your hand to calm himself for whatever's going on. He's usually touchy feely when he's nervous or stressed.
At what felt like hours, which was only 20 minutes, the doctor came back with the test results.
You were pregnant.
The doctor showed you the positive results so you could see with their own eyes. The bolded, green colored word succumbed to their vision. You was pregnant. They were going to have a baby.
Your heart pounded in your chest at the exciting news. For some reason, the idea was way below your thoughts as you didn't think you were showing any of the common symptoms. The spider-doctor reassured you that each person was different in terms of pregnancy. Some checked off all the boxes in terms of the symptoms. Others wouldn't even know if they were pregnant until their belly got bigger.
Miguel’s hand pressed against your stomach, face filled with a mix of disbelief and happiness. “We’re having a baby.”
“Yeah.” You placed a hand on top of his, “We are.”
The doctor recommended you continue getting rest. The exhaustion will fade away in due time but other symptoms may appear. Heavy eating, nausea or vomiting, mood swings, and back pain. You were more concerned about work, knowing you didn't have infinite time to take off. You couldn't take off a bunch of times to rest. Miguel said he would take care of it, even offering to pay your salary if you didn’t have any time left.
In fact, once you got home, a flip switched inside him.
He was usually attentive, close by and understanding. Now he was that by tenfold. When you arrived home, he constantly asked how you were feeling. If you needed to lie down or eat. You let him fret over you as he carried you to bed. You were feeling peckish so he gave you a list of food he could get. So you settled on pizza.
Constant messages appeared saying congratulations. Someone must've heard the spider doctors give the news. Now your watch blew up with activity of spiders wishing you well. Multiple requests appeared, asking if they could babysit the baby once they were born. You particularly noticed ones from Ben who also ended up coming over to make sure he was the first person to be called to watch the baby. You couldn’t say no to those cute puppy dog eyes.
Jess also stopped by in person to congratulate you, just as excited at her baby finally having another kid to play with. She went over her entire pregnancy experience to give you some tips. How she had the weirdest cravings like pickles with chocolate ice cream. Or how her bump got in the way a few times. Although, you knew the experiences were going to be different at the fact you were talking to a superhero. Who still fought crime while pregnant with her baby. You weren't sure you could make it to the bathroom in your current state.
Peter B. and MJ also came over one day to offer endless amounts of advice when it comes to babies. And their own experience with Mayday.
“Peter had sympathetic pregnancy for a while.” MJ admitted, causing Miguel and you to raise their brows in surprise. “He was miserable around the last couple of months.”
“I swear to you, my back was hurting all the time. I was bloated and nauseous. I'm surprised we didn't have two babies when Mayday was born.”
You laughed at Peter, “Poor you.”
“Of course he'd get that.” Miguel shook his head, close to you as you all sat on the couch.
“Hey, don't be surprised when you suddenly start feeling gassy. I was just happy to finally relate to my lady.” Peter gave a gentle kiss on MJ's forehead.
The married couple also left tons of material involving babies for them to read. Self-help books, videos, even started giving them some of Mayday's baby clothes to help prepare. You were excited to finally start planning for the baby to arrive if you could stop feeling so tired first.
You were lucky to have a wonderful husband.
Miguel made it a point to do everything in the house. Cook and clean. Tidy up the house if it needs tending. He often did his part around the house when you weren't pregnant. Now, he insisted on doing everything for you. Emphasizing that your rest was important. That he wasn’t going to let you overexert yourself if he was there. All while caressing you for reassurance.
He had also gotten more handsy than usual.
He was constantly nearby when he didn’t have to work. A hand on your belly, gently pressing against it. His warmth comforted you and soothed any worries you might have had about the baby. Soon, his hand went upward, a feel of your breast and a grunt in your ear. His hips rocking against your plump bottom. You wiggled your ass against his in small reciprocation but a yawn combated your rising arousal.
That made him stop.
“You should get some rest, baby.”
You shook your head, “I'm fine, we can-” Another yawn occurred, denouncing any argument you had.
“Let’s just sleep.” Miguel kissed your forehead before leading you to bed. You noticed his bulge and your stomach twisted with guilt. Miguel was extremely understanding, not once making you feel bad of your decreased energy. But you knew it wouldn't last long. You had read those horror stories of husband’s not desiring their partner as they were pregnant. Which led to frustrations or cheating. You knew your husband wouldn’t ever do that to you. But you couldn’t help but worry.
You had a proposition for him after making out with your husband one evening. Miguel gazed at you with apparent lust as he groped and kissed you with a burning passion. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah…” He gave you a gentle kiss. “My wife is pregnant. Why wouldn't I be?”
Your fingers laced through his own, “I just thought you were nervous. Since we're going to be parents.”
“I am. The thought of us with a child excites me and scares me…” You could feel a ‘but’ coming as he continued, “but seeing you like this, gets me going. Like I want to make sure you stay pregnant.”
His crimson eyes lowered, entranced at the sight of your belly. It hasn't grown much yet, still early for you to be showing. A shiver went down your spine at his gaze, “Is this you talking or Ravage?”
“No, no I think this is all me.” Miguel pulled you in close, hands remaining on your hips. “I want to make sure you stay knocked up. Be by baby making machine…” You noticed his breathing getting heavier at him riling himself up. “But you've been tired and you have no obligation to indulge me. I'm not going to exhaust you out further.” That's when he reluctantly parted, showing some restraint.
“Well, I did have an idea.” You started to say. You had been talking about messing around while the other was asleep. It was consensual and only if the other was extremely tired and couldn't participate as much. You thought this would be a great time to try. “You have my permission to use me while I'm asleep.”
Miguel perked up, “Really?” You nodded, “Are you sure? You don’t have to do this for me.” You nodded again, letting out a small laugh.
“I want to do this. Just be gentle. I'd rather not wake up to you jostling me all over the place.”
“I will.” He pulled you back in for a hug, holding you tight.
You thought this would be the beginning of him using you while you slept. But after a few days of permission, there was nothing. You felt the same after waking up for the day or from your naps. No clear evidence of you being fondled. No delightful warmness between your thighs. Miguel was cautious. You thought he wasn't ready to do that.
Until you had an incredible dream. One where he was behind you in bed, a leg draped across his arm, cock buried inside you. He was in his symbiote suit again as the large shaft was splitting you open. You heaved from the aching sensation, mind heavy and focused on him being inside. Whimpering his name as he gently thrusts into you.
Your walls are squeezing him as you climax, wrapped in bliss. He's never too far behind, his voice strained as he comes inside, lazy pumping into you to make sure not a drop is missed. The dream ended with a kiss and when you awoke, your body felt like liquid. Your attire was still the same, usually a pair of shorts with a large tshirt but your sex warm. Legs slightly sore and Miguel snoring peacefully from behind. A strong arm wrapped around the area where their child is forming.
You never caught the actions while you slept. Your dreams gave you a clear indication of what he was doing to you. Giving you satisfaction while also ensuring he didn't wake you.
Slowly, your exhaustion started to fade. The need for naps lessened, but you were still tired. So when you took a nap on the couch, that pleasant dream was coming back again. This time Miguel was buried between your legs, tasting you like there was no tomorrow. You sighed in relief before waking up to see the real thing.
The hunched position of his symbiote form over the armrest of the couch. Spreading your legs wide and pinning you down against the cushions to keep you still. Miguel made it a mission to remember every taste of you, his long tongue running along your folds, stimulating your clit.
“Miguel…” You moaned, eyes lowered at the sight. His head raised, eyes boring into yours in lust.
“Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you.”
“It's fine.” You muttered, “Don't stop…” You pushed his head back down and he obliged. The small lick and sucking sounds would make you blush if you weren't half asleep. But the occasional growl against your sex made you curl your toes. You sighed, feeling your body warm up. Your fingers dug into the pillow under you while you shifted under his hold. Miguel continued to press further into you, moaning against your sex like a starved man.
That familiar feeling pooled in your stomach, your breaths getting short. Lips parting to release the sound of ecstacy. Creating warmth around your frame. You weren't sure how long Miguel was eating you out as his mouth shined in the light.
“You should continue to get some rest.” Miguel’s gigantic frame towered over you, the sofa creaking from the weight. “I can take care of you.”
Your mind was long gone as his hips rolled against yours, entering you slowly. Hard thrusts savoring the moment. Watching you sleepily cry out for him below, the grip on his bicep non-existent. Tears fell from the corners of your eyes as you begged for him to not stop.
“We're gonna make sure our kid has a sibling.” He grunted, face twisted in pleasure. “A brother? A sister? Maybe if we're lucky, twins…”
You gasped, arching your back as another climax took you by surprise. Miguel’s own thrusts started to falter, his cum shooting inside quicker than he could blink. Once again he made sure you took it all, not missing a single drop.
He buried his face on your head, the symbiote suit disappearing and showing off his naked form. Miguel held you close as if he missed the heat from your skin. “I'm sorry…I really didn't mean to wake you.”
Your heart melted at his large eyes filled with guilt.
“It's okay. It was nice to wake up to.” Your lips found his again to give a soft kiss. Miguel lifted you up, still adamant on making sure she had enough sleep by carrying her to the bedroom.
Soon, you were starting to show. And your energy was back to normal. No more sleeping all day. Your mind became clearer. Which made you finally think about your extra guest.
Miguel said he'd get rid of Ravage after it was clear you were pregnant. Yet, it’s been a few months since then and the symbiote was still here. No one brought it up so of course you had to be the one to do it.
“So? When is Ravage leaving?” Miguel paused in the middle of his work, not saying anything for a bit. You could tell they were speaking as the silence lingered in his lab. “Miguel-”
“Ravage thought they could stay a little longer. At least until the baby is born.” He interrupted.
You purse your lips, “That's not what we agreed on.”
Your tone didn't match up with your words. In all honesty, you didn't want Ravage to go. It was bad enough Miguel had to cut off them from being attached to you after you got pregnant. Not wanting to affect the baby. But you missed them. Feeding them chocolate bars or hot cocoa. Keeping you company when Miguel had to work late. It was odd to develop a decent relationship with an alien but you had to remind yourself that your entire life was weird.
“We won't cause any harm to the child.” Ravage came out to say. “Your husband's been making us watch baby videos. Their laughs are infectious.”
Your brows furrowed at the thought of the symbiote watching baby videos, “You serious?”
“Yes.” They said, “We have no urge to eat the baby anymore.”
“Anymore.” You pointed out, “That means you thought about it.”
“Multiple times.”
Miguel quickly cut in, “But they said they don't want to do that now.” He held your hands, “You know I don't want anything to happen to this baby, right?” You squeezed his hands, believing him wholeheartedly. “I promise you, I will die before I let anything happen to our kid. Trust me. Trust us.”
“You know I do.” You embraced him, head in his chest.
Somehow, that comforted you. You agreed to at least let them stay until the baby was born. Although, in the back of your mind, you had a feeling they may be keeping them much longer than that.
#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o hara x reader#miguel o'hara x you#spiderman 2099 x reader#miguel x reader#miguel o'hara smut#slushycoookie writes
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dancing with your ghost * cl16
the ghost of your relationship lingers in your old apartment, reminding you of what's lost
pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader
notes: today, i got an anon ask asking if i was allergic to happiness so this one is dedicated to u babes,, i'm doubling down
(f1 masterlist)
there is something different about the air in the kitchen when you walk in. your heart hits the floor. it takes a minute to realise why you’ve avoided this room the entire time you’ve been back home in new york.
upon your move to los angeles to kickstart your career, you’d left the apartment vacant until you were ready to face the truth. that you’d now fallen out of the relationship you once poured your entire self into.
you rest your head on the door frame, watching your entire relationship unfold in visions in this tiny apartment, once shared with the person you now know nothing about.
you stood over the counter and charles held you from behind with his chin resting on your shoulder. “please be careful,” he hummed sweetly, “the knife is so big and we can’t have another er trip. we can’t afford it.”
you laughed and threw your head back on his shoulder. you looked up at him with an overwhelming warmth in your chest. “well, it would be hard to make dinner with a smaller knife,” you giggled along with him.
charles pressed a tender kiss on your shoulder before he pulled away. you remember looking over your shoulder as you chased for his warmth — you’d never gotten used to the cold of new york — and he just smiled at you as he poured himself a glass of water. “i just don’t want you to get hurt.”
his smile reached his eyes and at the time, you knew that he clearly felt the same way. you often wonder when that started to change.
when did he start lying when he’d say he loves you, or when did the spark in his eyes when looking at you disappear? had you truly been so blind to not notice that he started to spite you eventually?
you remember the kitchen used to be the brightest room in your apartment, always complaining about how hard it was to cook once the sun had set. one day, charles made his way out and got you white lights to ease your difficulty.
you look at it now and it is barely recognisable. two out of the five lights are no longer working and one flickers above your head.
you can hear echoes of giggling in the back of your head. you turn around and your attention is immediately caught by the piano at the far end of the room. you hear the melodies hang in the air like they’d always been stuck there, cursed to never be heard by the masses after you’d pushed it into a box in your mind.
you drag your feet over to the piano, dimly lit by one of the salt lamps you and charles had gotten at a market one sleepless night. you lift the cover with a sigh. you run your fingers over the keys carefully, as if afraid that it would crumble along with the bittersweet memories of hours spent sitting in the seat that came with it.
charles found you sitting here on one of your sleepless nights, aimlessly playing around with a melody that had been bugging you all day. you laughed when you noticed him stalking you from the small crack of your bedroom door pulled open.
“i’m sorry,” you frowned, “did i wake you with all of this?”
“no,” he shook his head with a smile and his arms folded over his chest. he walked over to you. “please, don’t let me interrupt. i loved that.”
you sighed and slumped your shoulders as a blush crept up your cheeks. “that’s all i currently have. i’ve been stuck here all day.”
he hummed and rested his arms on your shoulders and bore his eyes onto the monotonous keys of the piano you shared. “you say that all the time, but you eventually figure it out.”
“can you help me?” you prompted. you lifted your fingers from the keys and wrapped them around his hands, turning slightly to press a kiss to the back of his hand. “you’re the only one i trust that wouldn’t ruin the melody.”
“my help with another song?” he teased, scrunching his nose. “i might have to start charging you for my services.”
you laughed as he squeezed himself next to you in the tiny seat. composing melodies with charles wasn’t a foreign practice, spending most of your sleepless nights sitting around the piano as you try to spurt lyrics out to match a melody.
you almost start to feel bad for your neighbours who had to endure several nights of this behaviour. hushed giggles under the influence of wine with poorly composed melodies begging to be put to rest with your string of words.
“i was thinking something like this to continue would be good,” charles hummed, wrapping an arm around you to get to the further end of the piano.
on the top of the piano and a pile of sheet music with tiny doodles in different coloured ink. you pick it up with a smile, a work-in-progress title is written in big block letters in charles’s handwriting with a small heart in the corner.
you remember well working on this song together. you wonder if that was when it started to all fall apart. if that was when charles had started growing to slightly despise you.
you start to go sift through the pile of papers. all of these songs will probably never see the light of day — even thinking of them just hurt — except for that one song.
that one song that started playing on the radio after you’d released it with crossed fingers and all of the hope in the world. you turn around and look at the living room, remembering the way you’d scrambled to move the furniture around when you heard a familiar melody filling the empty air of your apartment.
charles had insisted you celebrate with a mini dance party.
he pushed the table and the couch back, grabbing your hand as he started moving to the beat. though, you could argue that a ballad is not the type of song you throw your head back and dance along to.
but he somehow made it possible.
the million versions of that song only exist in your head and hopefully his: the ballad, the pop, the alternate version and the version with the different set of lyrics.
you can then suddenly hear the slamming of doors the night that things started to blow up. you hated it — you remember thinking that you could change his mind as he packed his things into a bag. not all of his things, which is what frustrates you even more to this day.
he could have at least shown you some decency by taking all of his things after having decided that he can’t do it anymore. you look around the living room and there are still remnants of charles everywhere.
his reason? he despises the success you’ve managed to find without him; the new world you’ve seemingly built and left him behind. and because of it, he finds it difficult not to be jealous of you — to not hate you.
it still stings to this day.
“i don’t love you anymore,” charles said in a tired sigh after your back-and-forth screaming. “i didn’t want to have to say it, but it seems like that’s the only thing that will put a stop to this.”
“to what?” you asked, hearing your heart shatter in your chest.
“to you asking me to stay! i don’t want to stay!” he explained with a dry laugh. he watched as tears filled your eyes as you slowly processed his words. “i tried to see if it was a mistake that i feel this way, but i can’t… i– i don’t love you anymore.”
it was difficult to climb as an aspiring classical musician. it’s such a niche market that watching your career, as a popstar, made it difficult to not let the resentment get the best of him.
charles had reached out a few weeks ago, through his personal assistant, inquiring if you’d ever release the songs you’d written together. he’d received a simple no from you personally, written with a bitter scoff while you sipped on some seltzer after a concert.
you wonder if he would do anything with the arrangements you’d spent creating together.
you see the ghost of your relationship tangled on the couch, sickeningly lost in the magic of the early stages of your time together.
“we’re going to make it,” charles whispered in your ear as he mimicked a sign with his hands. “you’ll be performing sold-out concerts, releasing music that people want to hear… and i’ll be the idiot at the sideline watching you like a lovesick fool.”
“no,” you laughed, shaking your head. “you’ll be my classical musician boyfriend. the best of its kind, better than mozart, perhaps?”
“nonsense!”
that had turned to you sitting on opposite ends of the couch with your head in your hands. charles sat in silence with his staggered breathing taking over the room.
“i’m sorry,” he sighed. “i didn’t want it to end this way.”
“i just don’t understand,” you croaked out, your voice cracking, “you said you loved me this morning when i left the apartment. so, you lied.”
charles dropped his head. “i still do, but… with the way it’s going… it’s not ending well.”
and that’s the last conversation you had with him. he’d left your shared apartment shortly after that, taking your prolonged silence as a cue for him to leave.
he’s dead to you now, along with all of the bittersweet memories you’d spent together in this very apartment. which is what you’d flown back to new york for — to pack it all up and get your things. you’re finally letting the apartment go along with all of the hatred you’ve got for charles.
taglist: @33-81 @darleneslane @localwhoore @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgification @c-losur3
#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#disneyprincemuke imagines#disneyprincemuke#disneyprincemuke f1
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So anyway this is the newfound brain rot because I got to many ideas, not enough for a fic, but it’s gonna distract me from others so here we go lol-
(Also yeah Grandpa I’m in a manly mood)
Note from weeks later: Nah this bitch a fix tf-
“Tell me about my Дедушка*.”
Capitano looked down at the ginger with contempt. It was often now, since Dottore had let it slip - curse that bastard - that Tartaglia’s Grandfather was a Harbinger. Apparently the boy had been raised to think that great man was simply a lowly solider, not one of the most powerful men in Snezhnaya.
When he heard that, Capitano had never wanted to kill a family more.
They hid your legacy from their kids, how dare they keep living as thought they had any right!?-
He sighed.
The boy continued to bother the much larger man at any chance he got, borderline begging - or now was he? Maybe he crossed that line ages ago - the man to tell him anything about his grandfather.
War stories, tall tales, hell even DRINKING stories, the 11th would take any.
It wasn’t like his Grandfather wasn’t alive, Childe could leave the palace right now and go ask you, seeing as you lived with his family.
But what Childe wanted was to come home one day in a boisterous manner and shout at his parents:
“You LIED you FEINDS!!! How DARE YOU LIE to not only ME but the REST OF YOUR CHILDREN about their ГРАНДФАТЕР?!? And to YOU, ГРАНДФАТЕР, ALLOWED THEM TO LIE!!! How COULD YOU?!?”
But he held to much respect for both them and you, even if his father sent him off as thought sending his blood thirsty son to join the Fatui would do anything. It was like sending a polar bear to a penguins nest, he had no clue what his father was thinking.
No matter, because you were there, showing him moves and teaching him tricks and giving him tips. Though, he still felt a bit betrayed at the fact that you even hid the fact that you were one of the strongest men in Snezhnaya.
“You truly wish to know boy?” The sharp voice of his superior snapped Childe out of his head. A quick nod was enough to bring Capitano to a nearby chair and sit, Childe quickly following.
“He was brave, I can say that much… He was around before me and had made a name for himself long before I even dared touch the Fatui, let alone graced its ranks.”
Childe took in the information like a sponge, absorbing everything the man said.
“They called him Большой хищник Севера*, a powerful title I’m sure you can see. It is said that before his accident, he had not lost a single man in war or battle, but after, he only lost seven men, one of each nation.”
Childe looked on in wonder. Only seven men… in the entirety of his Harbinger career? He knew the Doctor could never account for that.
“Wait… his accident? Do you mean..?” “Yes, when he first received that scar across his face, marring it, that was the first time he lost a man, someone near and dear to him as I’ve heard. I was only then truly climbing the ranks when this happened… a pity. But he wore that scar, and his friend’s Vision, with pride.” Childe gaped.
“Wait, you mean to tell me that-“ “Yes, Tartaglia, that Vision he carries in his eye, as well as arm and ear, back and finger, even his heart, they all work. They are the last pieces of his closest comrades. He’d rather die than give them up, I’ve heard. Unfortunately the strain of using them forced him into retirement, but he comes when we call.”
Childe’s eyes widened as he screamed.
“WAIT THEY WORK?!?-“
⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆
“BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-“
Ajax looked on in awe at his Дедушка. The nearly ten foot tall giant of a man, with a full beard and furry body hair to boot had just pulled a huge fish out from beneath the ice sheet they currently stood on while ice-fishing, bare handed.
Your roaring laughter echoed through the tundra as you held the fish up proudly. You grabbed the then four year old and hoisted him onto your shoulder, that which he could fully sit on and still have some room. His hands latched onto the side of your face but that didn’t seem to phase you, as you continued your loud laughter. The cause of your laughter, being that the fish was the same size as Ajax.
“LOOK AT HOW LARGE IT IS, МАЛЕНЬКИЙ ОДИН*!! SHE IS THE SAME SIZE AS YOU BWAHAHAHAHA!!”
Ajax’s entire body shook as you continued to laugh, giggles beginning to bubble up from his own mouth.
He watched as your Hydro themed earring bounced around as your body gyrated up and down from the mere force of your laughter. His laughter grew until the two of you were basically screaming out through the tundra.
You sighed and - while still chuckling - wrapped an arm around the boys waist and began walking back home. Of course, not before grabbing the bucket filled with other fish from your fishing trip.
Ajax didn’t want to say anything, on account of the fact that it would’ve been disrespectful of course, but your arm that was wrapped around him was bumpy and hard and cold, not unlike a certain place on your chest, though it was just super cold.
The arm was usually covered in more layers or a bunch or bandages wrapped around it to soften its shape and surface, but Ajax could still feel the sharp points and edges, though he never minded.
Eventually you both made it back to the house you shared with his family, and ducking under the doorframe quickly alerted the family of your presents.
“ГРАНДФАТЕР!!!!” Ajax’s two younger siblings - a third was on his way, Teucer would be his name - ran up to you jumping at your feet. You chuckled more and let their heads, greeting each.
“Tonia, Anthon, calm yourselves!! We were only gone a few hours hah hah!!” The two only cried out in joy louder, wrapping themselves around your legs. You stumbled for a moment before walking forward as if they weren’t there.
A man and a woman watched as you walked into the kitchen and subsequently the freezer - ironic considering where you lived - to drop off the fish before waltzing into the living room. You plopped down in the couch, first removing Ajax’s coat and then your own.
The two on your legs let go and smiled up at you, the man and woman - Ajax’s mom and dad - walked over a gave you smile, a hand landing on your shoulder.
Your smile widened.
Archons you fucking loved your family.
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Archons you fucking hated these enemies.
These fuckers from Natlan were resistant little fuckers. You chop off a hand and they’d still keep fighting.
You were growing annoyed after hours of fighting, blood drenching your uniform and absolutely caking your hair, something you knew would be a bitch to get out from experience.
Your right hand of the time, a Natlander by the name of Eztil, was beside you through the whole fight. He wielded large war hammer made of various precious metals and stones, as well as prettified wood; it swung through the skies, heating up the air as his Pyro vision burned bright. Much like you, his battle-hungry smile was long gone, replaced by annoyance as he squished another enemy beneath his hammer, blood spraying across his already bloody face.
“UGH! I’m getting bored nouehuepo*!! When are we going to be finished?? I am growing hungry and wish to challenge you to another eating contest after this!!” He shouted, completely ignoring the man running at him with a knife, whom was taken down by another Fatui member.
“I do not know приятель*. But let us continue until no other man stands but us!” And with that, you both continued swinging. You with your fists, sickles and hammers, him with his war hammer and bursts of flame.
Your movements were in sync, almost like a dance as you ravaged the battle field. You had each others back, making you both the most dangerous force on the battlefield.
If only it could’ve stayed that way.
It was a second. A second to look back at your friend to make a mental check.
Then you felt a searing sensation on the side of your face not looking at him. Eyes quickly looking back, a knife was embedded in your skin and a man had his foot on your chest. He smirked, then dragged the burning hot knife up, towards your eye, but before you could fully react.
Everything went white in that eye, then black.
Then, the most searing, burning, awful sensation you had ever felt.
Your scream silenced the battlefield as you bat the man away with the knife still embedded in your flesh, his body skipping across the land like a stone on a lake. Eztil’s eyes landed on you, which was just enough time for another attack.
“EZTIL!!!” You screamed.
…
A sword embedded itself through his chest. Both your eyes widened as your hand left the knife in your eye, reaching out to your now falling comrade.
You refused to cry, because he’d live.
That’s what you said to yourself as you rushed over to him, not minding your injury.
“Eztil, don’t you DARE fucking close your eyes, do you understand me?!?” Blood bubbles from his lips as his breathing slowed. A tear slipped from his eye as one of his hands pressed against your cheek.
“Nouehuepo… take it.” He whispered. Your gaze became confused as you stared at the dying man.
“What..?-“ “My vision. Take it. She shall be of service to… y-you.” He let out a harsh cough, his blood not staining your skin, making you flinch.
“No. It is yours приятель, I could never-“ “It is my last wish. Y-you wouldn’t deny a d-dying man his last wi-sh, would you?” You sighed, smiling at him.
“I don’t want you to die of enemy hands, so would you allow me to do the honors?” His grin widened, a glint in his eyes as he laughed, which quickly turned to hacking up his lungs.
“O-of co-urse!!” He smiled, and you smiled as well. Your hand flew up to the knife in your eye, and tore it out, not caring for the fountain of blood that squelched out. You also didn’t mind the large flap of skin that fell from your cheek, revealing the musculature of your face and your gums and teeth.
“Goodbye, my friend. May you find many fights in the afterlife to satisfy your bloodlust.” He grabbed your hand with the widest smile you’d ever seen in him.
“And ma-y I see you I-in that place!” Your hand came down onto his head, knife imbedding itself into his skull. Then, you raised your arm and planted the knife tainted with you and his blood now into his chest, striking his heart head on.
The light died from his eyes and his vision, but you quickly picked up the small red jewel which had been attached to his hair. Wiping it off, you leaned back and held your hand forward, before slamming the damned thing into your eye.
The battlefield suddenly felt as though it was atop a volcano itself, the air heating up and ash seemingly falling from the sky. You gripped your friend’s weapon, testing it in your hand and grip, swinging it slightly. Your hands pressed to your waist and your hand tilted to the sky, and finally, you laughed.
Your laughter shook the world, men falling in their asses as you showcased your joy. the air grew even hotter as the vision grew even brighter. Your entire body shook as the ear hammer in your hand heated up to a point where the metals were turning white in heat, though they didn’t melt.
You turned to your men, a wide smile on your face and tears, one trail of water and one of blood, streamed from your eyes.
“WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR MEN?!? LET US FIGHT UNTIL ONLY WE REMAIN!! CHARRGGEEE!!!!”
You continued to laugh as you knocked down tens of hundreds of soldiers in one swipe, the sky nearly turning red at the mere sight of your bloodlust and rage.
That night would go down in history. The night the sky cried blood, the fall of a nation of soldiers, the day Natlan would forever regret.
‘The Night Man became a God”
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You stared at the bloodied Tartaglia- no. You stared at your grandson, Ajax’s bloodied form.
He only looked back at you.
“Well, Дедушка? Have I become a God?”
Holy shit this sucked the shit outta me-
This ain’t the best but I hope you enjoyed might go back and make another of these lmao-
Дедушка - Grandfather
ГРАНДФАТЕР - GRANDFATHER
Большой хищник Севера - The Great Predator of the North
МАЛЕНЬКИЙ ОДИН - LITTLE ONE
nouehuepo - my friend
приятель - buddy
#male reader#x male reader#Genshin impact x reader#genshin impact x y/n#male y/n#platonic#family#Childe!Grandpa!Reader
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BUDDIE - I Could Start Fires With What I Feel For You - Chapter 6 is now on AO3
Excerpt:
Buck watched Eddie until he vanished into his room and closed the door. He felt as if a load of bricks was falling off his shoulders. Eddie no longer fretted about the kiss. The evening with him had gone well. They had had a good conversation. Yes, there was that underlying tension between them. But after that evening, Buck repressed it with the thought that he'd probably read more into his relationship with Eddie than what was actually there. Aside from his brief breakdown shortly after they were alone, Buck could be sure Eddie wasn't sending him signals similar to Tommy's. Not to mention that Buck had no further intention of kissing Eddie. Or so he thought. Their friendship was back to the way it had been before the kiss. And that was a good thing.
But as soon as Buck turned off the light and lay on the couch, he had second thoughts. He had noticed that Eddie had covered up some of his feelings. The only question was how much. This was going to be a long night for him.
Eddie wasn't feeling much better. He was lying in bed, his hands clasped behind his head, staring at the ceiling. If he had laser vision, it would have collapsed on him by now. Maybe he should sort out the one thing he hadn't been able to get out of his head since their movie night together. Buck had no idea how much effort it had taken Eddie not to lean against him or take his hand and kiss it, even though their fingers had touched more than once. Eddie seriously wondered why he had done this to himself at all. An evening in the torture chamber couldn't have been worse. Eddie felt like a masochist. What had the evening been for him? Some kind of self-punishment? Did he have to torture himself to find out how he really felt about Buck? It had certainly seemed that way. Nevertheless, Eddie couldn't fall asleep and swung his legs out of bed.
#911 on abc#911 abc#911 on fox#evan buckley#evan buck buckely#evan buckey x eddie diaz#buck x eddie#buddie#oliver stark#tommy kinard#lou ferrigno jr#eddie diaz#christopher diaz#buddie fanfic#buddie fanart
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Yall ever think about how Zane is a seer with prophetic dreams of the future, but he's also a robot with memory problems who struggles to maintain his sense of self? Like. He's condemned to see a future he cannot prevent, yet cursed to long for a past he cannot recall. His dreams are filled with the vestiges of tragedies yet to come, but never the tragedies he wishes he could remember. Do you think he ever used to get disappointed when he'd have prophetic dreams, upset that it was another vision of the future but not of the past he so desperately wished to understand?
Anyway I'm gonna start biting people
#do you think the ice emperor ever experienced zanes sixth sense?#did he ever get visions?#i wonder what the visions were like. i wonder how he felt about them#did the ice emperor ever have visions foretelling the day his friends come to save him?#did he see dreams of him in ninjago again surrounded by loved ones?#dide the ice emperor has a vision of himself in a field having long since shed the armor hes worn for 50 years?#surrounded by grass and sun and springtime. the winter is over#he and some other people are laughing and eating bountiful food. it is serene and peaceful#he wakes up but cant remember the faces of the people in the dream#he doesnt know if its a dream or a vision but either way it haunts him. he doesnt know why#20 years later he is back in ninjago and he and his friends have a picnic#the dream has come true. zane looks around and sees not friends but the blurry-faced ghosts that haunted him for so long#ninjago#zane julien#zane ninjago#destiny post
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do you think part of the reason diluc still struggles with his resentment towards kaeya is because kaeya is more like what crepus wished diluc to be? crepus was so proud of diluc for his accomplishments as a knight and lived his dream through him as well and we know how much crepus' approval meant for diluc, more than any title or doing. i sometimes wonder if diluc feels hurt knowing that kaeya gets to live the equivalent to his past life as a knight as if nothing happened when he had to make sacrifices for his own peace of mind and sense of justice. i wonder if that's what pains him the most, not the fact kaeya ommited the truth about his past for so many years but having felt like he was the only one who cared to do something regarding his father's death and who showed any sense of uprightness when confronted with the knights' request to cover their mistake and negligence. i always think about how diluc might have felt like everything was a lie and his sense of betrayal. but maybe that didn't matter as much as having the support of his brother and someone he could share his pain with would have mattered. maybe the worst thing wasn't what kaeya did but what he didn't do; maybe it was never about his actions but the lack thereof.
#i just keep thinking about how lonely diluc must have felt#we know they kept in contact but it wasn't the same#but i also feel so much for kaeya who must have been deeply worried all the time diluc spent away all the times his letters were unanswered#do you think kaeya checked diluc's vision frequently to see if it ever faultered?#my heart clenches whenever i think about them#as much as i love to dwell on the angst of their relationship i feel so happy to see an accurate representation of what healing is like#and the usage of time as a way of storytelling#how it's a slow process and how you get there little by little#how conflicting it is#you have diluc's simultaneously passionate/fierce and stoic personality vs his more vulnerable anonymous messaged in cat's tail board#he admits it pains him and he reminisces of the past yet it's so easy to get angry and it's so easy to build up walls#and then you have kaeya who comes across as confident charming laid-back but who's so hard to read#there's a sadness in him even though he's mostly well resolved#you wonder if some of his diligence is actually his or compensation for his guilt#i just really enjoy them both and how different they are yet so similar#how they are both deeply lonely how they draw a line at anyone putting people at risk#they're not my favourite characters by chance i really think they're extremely well characterised and i think they're easy to relate to#and even though kaeya uses the term anti-hero with attitude problems to describe himself they're both genuinely kind hearted people#they're both warm in their own way#and i hope they hug one day i hope by the end of this stupid game that they get to properly be in each others lives again#the way kaeya called diluc his brother in his hangouts warmed my heart a lot i'm just so glad despite everything they're still able to keep#the other around even if diluc is a silly grumpy guy the fact they dined together like the old times already means something too#my boys <3#sometimes i want to hit diluc because it's him who pushes kaeya away the most but i also understand that the process of getting ready to#fully let go of his struggles and forgive kaeya takes time#i'm simultaneously hitting him with a cardboard tube and giving him a big big hug#i still think they should be put in the get along t-shirt though 😂 i think that's what they're lacking that would work for sure
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masterlist || MDNI
sweet scent.
perv!daryl x fem!reader
summary: while looking for his crossbow around the house, daryl ends up finding a pile of your dirty clothes and... used panties of yours. and when no one's looking, he decides to have some fun with them.
warnings: EXTREME AGE GAP (daryl is in his late 30s/early 40s and reader is 18), not entirely proofread, smut, mean!daryl sort of, corruption kink, daryl being an absolute pervert, panties sniffing, daddy kink, masturbation, cussing, daryl imagining himself doing the dirtiest things to you (unprotected p-in-v, squirting, face fucking, praising, loss of virginity, cunnilingus and i think that's pretty much it)
word count: 2.8k
a/n: please proceed with caution, this piece of work portrays a few extreme or unusual fetishes, so if you're not comfortable with any of those i've listed above please do not ready this. the idea that inspired this work originally belongs to @dilfsandmartinis.
if there was something daryl absolutely hated, it was the feeling of uselessness.
since andrea had mistaken him for a walker and shot him from afar, grazing his head, useless was exactly how he felt, having to lay down on a bed the whole day and night, doing absolutely nothing but be left alone with his own thoughts. and oh, what a disgraceful fate.
everytime he wasn't focused on hunting, fighting or surviving in general, the farmer's sweet younger daughter flooded his mind. your hair, your face, your stupidly adorable sundresses, everything about you was so... distracting.
daryl wasn't ever the kind of guy to simp for a woman, but that one specific girl made him feel emotions and sensations that were hidden deep within his being for years, maybe even decades. feelings he thought had vanished from his heart a long time ago were now blooming all over again, like he was some stupid teenager looking at a playboy magazine for the first time.
there was something about your innocence, your adorable mannerisms, your sweet voice and your kindness that had awakened something in him, something he wasn't quite sure what it was.
no, he wasn't exactly a young man. and while being aware that you were very young, he couldn't help but feel so guilty for having those feelings. whenever you bended over to pick something up, he had to fight demons not to have a glimpse of your panties. he often wondered how could you be so careless by exposing yourself like that, even if you didn't do it on purpose.
and there was him again, thinking about you. it's like no matter how hard he tried to push those thoughts away, they were like water, always finding a way in.
he huffed, feeling defeated. he knew he was still recovering from the incident, and that he should rest, but why was he following orders around anyways? he wasn't a damn puppy. plus, everybody else had left him there to go looking for sophia. he wanted to be able to help too. he was alive after all, and if he was alive, he believed he should be on his feet.
so that's what he did. he slowly lifted his right foot, resting it on the floor, then he did the same with his left one. his body reluctantly lifted itself up, and he immediately could feel the consequences for laying down for so long, his back killing him and his vision a bit foggy. anyways, he ignored any discomfort and started walking slowly, his head still a little dizzy.
then, he remembered he needed his trustworthy crossbow, he couldn't just leave unprotected like that. he looked around the room he was settled in but it was nowhere to be seen. he knew it was still in the house, so he left the room. he started walking down the corridor, his eyes attentively looking for any signs of his crossbow. he was even starting to think that his mates might've hidden it to force him to stay in the house when he spotted a halfway open door.
his calloused hands pulled it open, revealing a small bedroom, all pink themed and stupidly decorated. no, his crossbow wasn't likely to be there, it just looked like it belonged to one of hershel's daughters, but it was like something was calling him in.
he stepped in the room and it almost looked messy. the dressing table on the corner had lipsticks, combs, all sorts of make-up and girly stuff all piled up and... a perfume.
it was happening again, images of you flooded his mind and it was like he could almost smell you. oh, your sweet scent had the power to make him hard like nothing else. just by looking at that small bottle, just by imagining your scent, he could feel little shock waves travelling all the way down to his cock, threatening to awaken it.
he knew it was wrong, so fucking wrong thinking about a much younger girl like that. and it was even worse considering that you were the daughter of the man that provided him shelter in such difficult times. it felt ungrateful.
when he saw you for the first time, he didn't think much of you. he was actually careful, treating you like the stranger you were. and even when time passed, he never really got close to you. now and then you tried to share a word, even if just a little bit, but it seemed useless since he would reject all your attempted approaches. he didn't hate you like he tried to after acknowledging his disgusting desires for you, but he just couldn't allow himself to interact with a girl that made him sick to his stomach for all the wrong reasons.
your sweetness was almost annoying. the entire world had gone to shit, for goodness sake! dead bodies walking around and eating all the people they could find. how could you act so clueless all the time? daryl even wondered if you had ever seen a walker before, if you knew what was really happening out there. after all, it was very obvious that you were a daddy's girl, always protected under your father's wing.
but strangely enough, acknowledging that only made him protective towards you. he was always somewhat watching, always around you making sure you were safe and he barely knew why, he just felt like he should.
so he didn't stop himself from reaching over to your small perfume bottle. the design was very simple, no labels to be seen, time had probably faded it away. the cap was baby pink and heart shaped, and when he removed it, he immediately brought the bottle to his nose, giving it a gentle sniff.
fuck.
now, he was 100% sure that was your room. the fragrance was the same one that filled his nose and made him drunk in you everytime you walked by. he wondered if that was the scent he would feel if he ever hugged you, burying his face into your chest.
in that moment, he couldn't think about anything else, not rick, not carol, not his chores, not surviving, not even sophia. you were everything that he had in his fucked up mind.
he wouldn't feel so fucking guilty if his thoughts were only about your innocence and sweetness, but they were also dirty as fuck. countless were the times when daryl imagined groping you, running his hands all over your delicate body, feeling every texture, squeezing every junk and listening close to your every little whimper. he would pull your hair, gently at first, just to get it off your face and neck so he could pamper them with little wet kisses, gently scratching his teeth along them. he imagined he'd have to keep you on your feet himself, since you'd struggle to because of how weak your knees would get at all the sensations he would provide you and...
wait, no.
what was he thinking? was he out his fucking mind? he needed to stop those absolutely disgusting thoughts right away. he couldn't keep having those thoughts about you, not when you're out taking care of such important business with the others. he put the perfume bottle back on the dressing table, determined to let all that go. he knew he couldn't just let himself get so distracted like that over something so mundane and unimportant as his own sexual desires but then...
...he spotted a basket filled with clothes when he turned around to leave. his mind immediately started to rush all over again, and for the 100th time that day, he turned careless. he slowly approached it. shorts, tops, pants and so on could be seen at the top of the pile.
in that moment, he had totally forgot why he had entered that bedroom or even left his bed in the first place. he couldn't even remember the existence of his crossbow or his duties.
and then... he gets an idea. he starts going through the pile of dirty clothes and in no time, he finds your panties. they were white with a pink ribbon on the front, a clear reminder of your innocence. for a moment, he just looks at it, contemplating the possibilities. then, he remembers seeing you in it when you bended over to pick some off the floor the day before. he remembers catching a glimpse of it under your yellow sundress when you went to change his bandage.
that meant that those panties had been freshly worn.
if just your perfume ignited such vile desires in him, he couldn't even imagine what your natural scent could do to him. and he was oh so curious to find out. he still felt guilty, but that man had been sex deprived for so fucking long, he didn't even masturbate very often. he knew damn well he was about to commit a big mistake, maybe even starting something he was sure he couldn't finish, but he finally made up his mind.
he flips the small piece of cloth over, eyeing the soft-looking lining of the panties. he gulps, feeling his mouth water right away. god, what was he doing? what was right, what was wrong wasn't even important to him anymore. he just wanted to embrace his sickness.
there was a small stain on the lining, probably from you wearing it. just that sight alone was enough to get him off, and once again, he found himself having to face that tingling sensation inside his pants. he knew damn well what that meant and what was about to happen. but honestly, he couldn't give a single fuck anymore.
in one quick motion, he brought the fabric to his face, giving a long sniff while he rolled his eyes to the back of his head. that fucking scent of yours got him drunk the moment it filled his nostrils. so intense, so feminine and raw, daryl couldn't remember the last time he felt that type of pleasure, or if he had even felt anything like it before.
it made him needy like a horny teenager. he felt himself going back to puberty when all he could think about was jacking off day and night. and it was all your fucking fault.
daryl palmed himself through his denim pants, never taking your panties off his face not even for one second. the natural scent of your cunt was more than successful to make him hard as a rock, the sensation of being in his pants started to get uncomfortable as his dick grew bigger and bigger.
just palming himself wasn't enough.
he slowly unbuttoned his pants and unzipped them, inserting one of his hand in his briefs to catch his hard cock in it, freeing it for the first time in a while. his angry-red tip was literally pulsating while a clear and sticky liquid dropped down his length.
he wasn't able to hold a small grunt as he wrapped his calloused hand around his cock, the rough sensation of his fingers causing him to feel a jolt of pleasure so fucking delicious and guilty at the same time. the archer brought his hand to his mouth, catching some of his saliva to use as lube.
oh, how he wished you were there. he'd make sure you'd get his cock nice and wet with your spit so you could rub it up and down. and then, without warnings, he'd just shove it down your throat, forcing you to prove how much of a good girl you could be just for him.
and just for him. he wanted you all for his own. daryl never really liked to share, specially when it came to a girl like you, so princess like, so adorable looking. your plump lips looked so fucking perfect, and they would look even more wrapped around his big cock.
knowing how fragile you were, he knew you would definitely choke and gag on him, struggling to fit all of him in your mouth. he would whisper sweet encouragement words to you like “tha's it, tha's ma good girl”. he imagined how he would hold your head in place and keep a hand on your throat so he could feel his cock while he aggressively pumped it in and out, making you drool all over him. “just like tha', yeah, show daddy how fuckin' good ya are fer him”.
in his imagination, you would look up at him with those big doe eyes of yours, with a mix of uncertainty and desire to make him proud. “am i doing this right, daddy?” he could almost hear your voice saying it whenever you would take him off his mouth to catch your breath for a moment, never disconnecting your small hand from his thick length.
he started pumping faster, squelching sounds were all that could be heard in that silent room, a proof of his degeneracy. the grunts and stifled moans were only getting harder and harder to hold back. he was sticking those panties to his face and sniffing on them like his life depended on it, like he was a desperate virgin.
a virgin. he wondered if you were one. you sure looked like it, your dad never let you out of sight for long enough for you to try something like that, he supposed from what he knew about your relationship. he imagined how would it feel like to be the one to pop your cherry for the first time.
oh, he would teach you so many things, everything he knows. he would guide you through it all along, teaching you where to touch, where to kiss, where to lick. he would make your virgin little cunny cum so many times it would get all puffy and red. he even wondered if he could make you squirt, stuffing you with his fingers, brushing against your sweet spot over and over again until you were a quivering mess, squirting all over his skull tattoo. and yes, he would make you lick his fingers clean, your sweet little tongue dragging across them, and then, he would kneel down in front of you, not wanting to waste a single drop of your sweet release, attacking your sensitive clit and slit with his lips and tongue.
fuck, fuck, fuck.
he was so fucking eager to taste your slick, to revel in your salty taste. he imagined how fucking good the smell he was getting from your panties was from the actual source. he would lick it all, your lips, your slit, even your ass, but he would give special attention to your little clit, flicking his tongue on it, making it cum again just for him. he would never grow tired of it.
and when he felt you were finally ready for him, he would bend you over just like you used to do so absentmindedly. he would be gentle at first, but knowing himself, he knew he wouldn't be able to hold himself back for too long before absolutely railing the shit out of you, making you cry out and scream his name in pleasure and pain.
and when he flipped you over on your back, he would be able to see the bulge on your lower belly caused by his big cock inside you. just by imagining that he felt himself getting close to the edge. he would press his hand on it, making the little room inside your pussy even tighter. fuck, he imagined the sweet sounds you would make just for him.
all those dirty thoughts and your sweet scent from your panties were more than enough to make shivers run down his spine and his whole body tremble. he kept his eyes shut tight as he licked a stripe on the lining of your panties, trying to get some of your delicious taste. meanwhile, he hadn't stopped his hands not even for a second, harshly rubbing his cock up and down until it was too much.
in a strangled moan, his cock started shooting spurt after spurt of thick cum onto the floor, the dressing table and pretty much anything that was around. he couldn't remember the last time he had such an intense orgasm, the sensation making his mind completely empty except for your image.
his movements got slower until they stopped and he let go of his now sensitive cock. he sighed after catching his breath. he was left with that afterglow and the feeling that he made a huge mistake. suddenly, he felt dirty like before. he opened his eyes slowly, removing your panties from his face and putting them in his pockets. yeah, he knew it was wrong, but he was still planning to keep them for later.
then, when he averted his gaze to the mirror on his side, he saw...
you. standing on the doorframe with a shocked look on your face.
“u-uncle daryl?”
[PART TWO]
a/n: i know, i'm disgusting. i'm sorry. (just a quick reminder, english isn't my first language, so please excuse any grammar mistakes or awkward phrasing lmao, and tysm if you read it this far)
#daryl dixon#norman reedus#the walking dead#twd daryl#the walking dead daryl#daryl#daryl dixon smut#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon twd#daryl twd#twd daryl dixon#daryl x you#daryl x reader#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixon x reader#daryl x yn#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl oneshot#norman reedus x reader#twd smut#daryl smut#daryl dixon drabbles#daryl drabbles#daryl dixon fanfics#daryl fluff#daryl angst#daryl x fem!reader#daryl dixon x yn#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon x fem!reader
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Fighting Fate (It’s a losing battle)
Theodore Nott x gn!reader
Inspired by, and dedicated to @musingsofahufflepuff
Summary: soulmate!au in which everyone sees in black and white until they meet their soulmate. Bold of fate to assume it can tell you what to do.
word count: 3.1k
©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.
Ever since your first day at Hogwarts, you’d been told that you were lucky. A one in a million chance. Exceptional. Because as soon as you’d been sorted, and the sorting hat had been lifted up off of your head, your eyes had met his, and the world had burst into color.
It had been wildly disorientating at first- you almost fainted from the visual overload as the banners over each section of students burst into bright color. As you went to take your seat, you got strange looks from several students, but you never felt his eyes leave you.
You’d always thought it was rubbish. Even at the ripe old age of eleven. Your mother had first explained the idea of soulmates to you as a bedtime story. You remember her explaining how everything looked bland and colorless now because you hadn’t met your soulmate yet. But once you did, the world would come to life.
“When will I meet my soulmate?” You’d asked.
“Well, that’s the catch isn’t it? It’s different for everyone. Some meet their soulmate very young. At school even. But some, some will never meet their soulmate. They can be anywhere in the world, fate doesn’t discriminate.”
You’d scrunched your little nose up in distaste.
“That’s stupid. Why do I have to listen to fate?”
Your mother had only laughed, tucking you in and kissing your forehead goodnight. But the sentiment had remained as you grew up. How could someone really just be meant for you? Ridiculous.
Theo had known that you were going to be his soulmate before fate did. He’d watched silently from his seat on the train as you boarded, a nervous grin on your face as you waved goodbye to your family. You were perfect, and he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. At least until Mattheo swatted his arm.
“What’re you staring at, mate?” He’d asked loudly, gaining the attention of the other boys in the carriage.
“See them, there?” Theo asked, pointing to where you were boarding. “That’s going to be my soulmate.” He’d announced proudly.
“Yeah, okay mate,” the other boys had laughed, quickly moving on to the next topic.
But Theo didn’t take his eyes off of you until you disappeared through the train doors and off into some unknown compartment.
The next time he saw you was at the sorting ceremony. He watched as you confidently made your way up to the front, the smile never leaving your face as McGonagall lowered the hat onto your head. It only took a few moments of deliberation before the hat was being lifted off of your head and Theo’s eyes met yours.
It was like the wind was taken out of him as the room sprung to life, colors swirling around his vision as his eyes raced around the room in awe.
By the end of the night, all of Theo’s friends had been sorted into Slytherin with him. Mattheo, Enzo, Draco, Blaise. Even Crabbe and Goyle.
“I was right on the train. About them being my soulmate,” he’d announced proudly, pointing out different objects and describing the different colors to his friends who wondered in amazement.
You on the other hand, didn’t speak a word of it to anyone until you accidentally let it slip to your mother over break that you could see the pretty colored ornaments strung up on the tree.
She’d been thrilled of course, wanting to know every detail about this soulmate of yours. What did he look like? What house was he? Had the two of you spoken.
You answered each question with less enthusiasm than the one prior, and eventually she got the point and stopped asking.
As soon as the news slipped that Theodore Nott, a child of the sacred twenty-eight, and son of Tiberius Nott no less, could see in color however, it didn’t take long for people to start noticing you. Telling you how lucky you were to have found your soulmate. To be able to see color. As if you wanted a soulmate at eleven years old.
The first few years it was easy to avoid. Being only eleven or twelve, Theo was content admiring you from a far. Third year was when the boy finally got the courage to really try and talk to you for the first time. Sure he’d said hi a few times over the past couple years, but nothing you’d found particularly note worthy. Especially not for someone who was supposedly your soulmate.
“Are you any good at charms?” A voice asks, startling you as you look up from the essay you had been finishing up in the court yard. It was a warm, cloudy day, with only a light breeze, so you’d thought it would be the perfect day to take your studies outside.
You stare up in surprise at the brunette boy in front of you, watching silently as he takes a seat across from you.
In the past, you'd played the avoiding game, quickly scurrying off if you saw the boy or his friends approaching. This year, you hadn't been taking the same precautions, and it seemed Theodore was taking full advantage.
“I’m alright,” you reply hesitantly.
That was a lie. Charms was your best subject, but you were hoping the boy might go away. He didn’t.
"I know that you're top of the class," he responds, staring intently at you with a sly smirk.
That afternoon you begrudgingly helped Theodore with his charms homework, and he happily helped you with your DADA essay. There wasn’t a whole lot of interaction between the two of you, but he wasn’t horrible you supposed. At least he had brain cells to rub together.
After that he kept popping up sporadically throughout your third year.
At quidditch tryouts he'd insisted on partnering with you for several of the drills. You both were offered a place on the team. In the Great Hall he'd seek you out to ask about the homework assignment he'd missed after skiving off of class with Mattheo. The fact that you gave him your notes each time meant nothing. Obviously. And every so often, between the shelves of books in the library, you'd see a flash of soft brown hair, and intense eyes gazing at you before they disappeared as if you were imagining it.
With each increasing encounter, the both of you made idle conversation as you kept the boy at an arms length. It was nothing personal really. In fact the more you thought about it, he seemed perfectly alright. But something in your stubborn thirteen year old self just wanted to stick it to fate. So you continued to ice the boy out.
Theodore however, was nothing if not determined. He knew from the moment he saw you that he was meant to be yours, and he’d be damned if he let you slip through his fingers. Thirteen year old Theodore was a stubborn bastard and he knew he was willing to play the long game.
Things grew a bit more complicated in fourth year when you became friends with some of the Slytherin crowd.
It had been an accident really. You’d been reading down by the Black Lake when Daphne Greengrass had stumbled upon you, followed closely by Pansy Parkinson and Lorenzo Berkshire.
“Oh!” she’d said in delight, seeing the book in your hands, “I love that book!”
The two of you ended up talking enthusiastically about the novel for almost an entire hour with Pansy and Enzo butting in every so often to add their thoughts.
“Wait, you’re Theodore’s soulmate aren’t you?” Enzo asks, eventually recognizing you.
You eye the boy cautiously as you nod slowly, suddenly feeling self conscious.
Pansy just wrinkles her nose.
“Sorry you got stuck with such a tosser.” She says.
The four of you are quiet for a moment before your laughter breaks the silence, the other three following shortly after.
After that, you’re integrated into their little group seamlessly. You’d always been a bit of a loner. Sure people would wander up to you often enough to chatter about what it was like to see colors, but that was really all people wanted to know about you. Like it was some trivial party trick.
It was nice having your own friends to study with and wander about Hogsmeade with on the weekends. It was nice to have people who liked being around you simply for being you. Not because some magical force had decided to bind you to a whole other human and grant you the ability to see color.
It didn’t take long for Theo to notice you hanging about more frequently. How could he not? You were so pretty. So smart and witty. So perfect. He was just so happy to have you around more often. Even if it wasn’t to spend time with him specifically.
He reveled in any little morsel of information that he could scrape up from your friends. Your favorite color, your favorite sweets at Honeydukes, your class schedule. Theo was willing to admit the last one was a bit weird, but he was really just hungry to learn anything he could about his elusive soulmate.
Soon enough, it didn’t become unusual for Theodore and Mattheo to join the four of you on your little excursions. Popping up at the Black Lake, or meeting up with you at the Three Broomsticks. He was just always there. As if he was making a point of it. And begrudgingly you began to let him in.
A friend of your friends was okay you thought. Wouldn’t hurt to get to know him a bit. That wasn’t crossing any lines.
For Theo however, this was huge. He was finally getting somewhere. Even if you weren’t ready for any sort of romantic relationship, he was going to be the best damn friend you’d ever had.
By fifth year, there was simply no denying it. Theodore Nott was your best friend. You weren’t really sure how it had happened. The two of you just fit so well together. He had truly wormed his way into your life.
It had started with the study sessions.
"Remember when you helped me with charms in third year?" He'd asked. "I got top marks on that assignment."
As those became more frequent, it had turned into afternoons by the lake with both of you deep in your own novels, but sharing the comfortable silence.
Then it had morphed into weekends at Hogsmeade. Your friends thought they were being subtle when they consistently slipped away, leaving you and Theo to wander about the village. You couldn't find it in yourself to mind though.
You’d tried to keep him at an arms length. You really had. But Enzo couldn’t make you laugh as hard as you did with Theo. And Daphne just wasn’t the intellectual match that Theo was. And Pansy always made sure you let loose sure, but being around Theo was just- freeing.
You still weren’t sold on the whole soulmate thing though. Sure Theo was great. Perfect even. But you just couldn’t shake the icky feeling of blindly trusting fate to decide your life.
Then it happened. No one was expecting it. Especially not Pansy. But you and Pansy and Draco and Theo had all been working late on a potions assignment before dinner, and on your way back up from the dungeons, Pansy ran smack into a certain platinum haired Ravenclaw. You’d later find out that her name was Luna Lovegood. As soon as their eyes met, Pansy stumbled, leaning into you for support. You already knew what was happening as her eyes darted around wildly.
“Oh. I suppose we’re soulmates then aren’t we?” The girl said, a dreamy look overtaking her.
It all seemed too easy for them after that. It was like a flip had switched and the two were just mad for each other. A picture perfect example of what soulmates should be.
You found it to be slightly horrifying how blindly trusting fate could severely change a person and their relationship with an essential stranger.
Theo however, couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy. He had what? Almost five whole years on Pansy, and was lucky to get a friendly hug out of his soulmate. Yet Pansy and Luna were inseparable after only a few short weeks.
Not that Theo thought he was entitled to your affection necessarily. But it would be nice if you’d at least acknowledge the bond you two shared he thought.
“Why don’t you believe in soulmates?” Daphne asks one night.
It was one of those rare nights where it was only you, Daphne, Pansy, and Enzo huddled together wrapped in thick, warm blankets inside Daphne and Pansy’s dorm room. Salazar knows where Millicent was off spending her night. A bottle of shared fire whisky sat between you and packs of chocolate frogs littered the floor.
You blink in surprise at your friend’s question. You didn’t talk about soulmate stuff much.
“I do believe in them,” you say with a simple shrug.
“Yeah but you don’t really believe in them, ya know? Why?” She pushes.
You pause again, glancing at Pansy who was looking back at you intently.
“I don’t know. I guess I just don’t like the idea of someone deciding to be with me, just because they’re supposed to.” You say finally.
“I suppose I know what you mean.” Pansy murmurs after a moment.
You look at the girl in surprise and can tell the other two are shocked as well.
“Don’t get me wrong. I adore Luna. Really. I always tell her that I’m so glad that fate put us together. But then sometimes I wonder. If it weren’t for fate, would I have even given her a second glance that day I bumped into her in the corridor?”
There’s a silent lull as your group mulls over Pansy’s words before slowly drifting off to a new topic.
In another dorm, not so far off, Theo lay on his bed staring blankly up at the ceiling.
“Think they’ll come around soon?” Mattheo asks, sensing his roommate’s building tension.
“I dunno. But I’ll wait,” he replies, closing his eyes and letting images of you flood his mind. “They’re worth it.”
That night as you’re leaving to return to your dorm, Enzo catches your arm, pulling you off to the side.
“You can never tell Theo that I told you this, but the first time I met Theo, we were on the train waiting to leave for Hogwarts and he pointed out the window to a someone and said ‘they’re going to be my soulmate’. Then, at the sorting ceremony he got all dizzy all the sudden, and when we got to the common room, he said that he’d been right about who his soulmate would be. You. Just thought you should know.”
And with that, he’s gone.
It’s after that that you really begin to see Theo. You’d never really given him a fighting chance. But now, you kind of wanted to.
It’s the beginning of sixth year when Theo finally notices the shift. Notices you actually seeking him out on purpose, not flinching away when your hands brush, eyes hovering on his lips a bit too long for it to be accidental. And to say that he is ecstatic.
Meanwhile you were silently kicking yourself for taking so long to get over your petty bullshit with fate. Sure you still didn’t love the idea of it all, but after spending enough time with Theo, you could really, truly see the appeal.
After that night in fifth year, you began noticing how Theodore was one of the only students who could keep up with your academic prowess. He could always sense when you were tired, or stressed, or simply in a mood, and always did his best to subtly cheer you up. He was always there. Even after all the years you had put him through the wringer, he remained by your side. And that’s what really convinced you.
It’s also what landed you here, at the top of the astronomy tower, with your head in Theodore’s lap as his fingers raked gently through your hair.
It had become a usual meeting spot for the both of you. Theo had brought you up here a week into the school year starting. It was his safe place. His getaway when everything got to be too much, or when he just needed space to think. When those words had left his mouth you had melted. He trusted you. You had meant so much to him for so long, and you couldn't be bothered to give him the time of day.
“I’m sorry,” you mumble, eyes gazing out at the swirling navy sky that seemed to stretch on forever.
“For what, amore?”
“Dunno. Making you feel like you weren’t good enough, or makin you feel like a bad soulmate.”
Theo looks down at you, and you meet his steady gaze.
“I knew I was good enough, amore. We wouldn’t be soulmates if we weren’t perfect for each other.” He replies.
You perk up at this. “You think I’m perfect?” You ask, a dopey smile appearing on your face.
Theo just rolls his eyes, shaking his head as he laughs. He'd grown used to your antics. Just another piece of you that he'd grown fond of.
“I said that we’re perfect together. But you’re perfect too I suppose.”
It hadn’t taken nearly as long as you had expected to reach this point. It seemed that Theo had just been waiting for the word to switch on boyfriend mode. All it took was one spontaneous, heated make out session in his dorm room, and you had the boy wrapped around your finger. (He already had been for years, but you didn’t need to know that.)
“Alright. Wrap it up love birds. You better be fully clothed,” Pansy calls, head peeping up from the top of the staircase leading up to the tower. “You two have been up here for hours, and you can’t have them all to yourself Theodore. They were our friend first.”
“Yeah! Time’s up lover boy!” You hear Enzo call.
Theo groans, head falling back as he rises lazily, offering you a hand up.
“I waited five years for this, can’t you guys let me have my moment?” He calls back.
“No!” The chorus replies.
With a laugh, you grab onto Theo’s hand, tugging him towards the stairs.
“C’mon. If we get Mattheo and Enzo drunk enough, they won’t notice if I spend the night,” you say with a cheeky wink.
“I heard that!” Enzo’s voice rings out.
“You wouldn’t say no to me anyway,” you shout back.
With a smile, Theo follows you down the stairs after your rowdy friends, hand wrapped tightly around yours. It had taken him five long years, and he certainly wasn’t going to let go anytime soon.
I'm a sucker for soulmate aus
#slytherin boys#theodore nott#harry potter universe#slytherin#lorenzo berkshire#matteo riddle#theo nott#draco malfoy#enzo berkshire#theo nott fanfiction#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott x you#theodore nott x y/n#daphne greengrass#theo nott x reader#slytherin boys fanfiction#soulmate au#soulmates
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Wrong Number? Wrong Answer.
It was the usual deal that the Justice League Dark dealt with… way too often honestly.
Initially, it had been just Wonder Woman, investigating a cult that had attempted to abduct her earlier in the month.
Diana had defeated them. Easily. Of course. But upon questioning them, their reasoning had concerned her.
They had attacked her for a ritual to open the ‘Sarcophagus of Eternal Sleep’, a ritual which required ‘a blade blackened by the ichor of time.’
Once again, she was being targeted for her parentage. Did it ever end?
Of course, she questioned them further, what other ingredients did they need, what artifacts they would be hurting others to create.
A ring carved from the bone of an unfreed slave.
A crown made of lava untouched by human hands.
And sand directly from the pouch of Dream of the Endless themself.
It was an eclectic collection of items.
And yet, they had told her that only the blade remained to be created.
Again, it was concerning.
So Diana left the fools to be taken care of by men’s authorities, and focused on tracking down just what they were doing and if necessary, how to stop it.
After depleting her academic resources, and her connections within with nothing to show, Diana finally called in her friend through the league, Zatanna.
Zatanna had been frazzled by it, showing up in her living room before they’d even finished the call.
Together they tracked down the cult to Gotham… which was also a problem.
It was the reason why Diana was running through the caves beneath the crime ridden city with one of her closest friends in men’s world and a magician by her side.
All too quickly, they were surrounded by fanatics, each carrying sharp blades solely focused on her.
Working in sync with Batman and Zatanna throwing spells above them, Diana believed it would be a well-won battle.
Until a golden light flashed across the cave, blinding her for a precious second as she felt a sharp sting cut across her arm.
When her vision cleared, her arm was dripping blood and John Constantine stood in front of her.
“Sorry about that, love,” Constantine smirks, “No harm done?”
Diana’s teeth grind together as she turns away from him, fighting her way through more followers. The one who had injured her is nowhere to be seen, and the blade with them.
Even once the rest of the swarm is beaten, their numbers no longer being replenished, Diana does not feel content. The sense of danger lingers.
“Constantine.” Batman growls, “What are you doing in Gotham?”
The Brit rolls his eyes as he lights a new cigarette, “You know I don’t actually have to tell you every time I enter the city right? But besides, that’s news to me, portals are a tricky business, I’m tracking my own problem.”
Batman glares at him.
“Someone stole from me mate. And whatever they stole it for can’t be good, so I’m here ta get it back. Thought you’d be proud of something like that, Batsy, insteada leavin’ it for someone else?”
Batman’s eyes darken, “We’re tracking a group trying to open the Sarcophagus of Eternal Sleep, is your artifact related to that?”
“Fucking shit it is yeah! Bollocks I didn’t think they’d be using the dream sand for something like that, what sort of mannies are these?!” Constantine exclaims, hastily grinding his cigarette beneath his shoe.
“Hn.”
Suddenly, there’s a rattling boom, the ground and walls shaking around them as dust rains down and they are all forced into stabilizing stances.
They barely share a glance before all three are running down the hall to the source, Constantine left scrambling to keep up.
The scene they come to is equal parts confusing as it is problematic.
The cultists are each in states of disrepair, crusting on the edges or yelling at their leader. The leader is the first to notice their arrival.
“You! You say you are a child of Zeus and yet your blood does not work! You lie of your ancestry!”
Diana steps forward, “I do not! I am the daughter of Queen Hippolyta and Zeus, grandchild of Kronos! The fault of your magic does not lie with me!”
The leaders face twists, mouth open to shout, but a flash of gold slams into him.
“Z, the book!” Constantine yells, arms outstretched as he flings more spells at the surrounding people, glowing ropes binding each.
“On it! Etativel em dna eht koob!” Zatanna shouts, lifting into the air as a book the leader had been holding flies into her hands.
Immediately she begins turning pages with desperation, “Wohs em eht stsitluc lleps!”
The book flips to a distinct page, and Zatanna’s face drains of color.
“Batman, we need to be careful, this spell looks legitimate, we might still have a risk on our hands.”
Batman hummed, looking at the chalk lines of the summoning circle drawn out before them, drawing Diana to do the same. Looking closely at the artifacts placed at each cardinal direction, including a short dagger with her blood nearly completely dry on the flat of the blade.
Batman moves towards the gathered and bound cultists as both magicians whisper over the spell.
Diana continues to look out on the evidence of the ritual, confusion warring in her.
She lays a hand on the lasso at her side. She knew she had not been lying about her heritage, so then why….
‘A blade blackened by the ichor of time.’
She looks at the bloodied dagger once more. It didn’t make sense, even if they had managed to harm a godly descendent, pure ichor would be gold; and even her blood was simply a humanly deep crimson red, not black; not until it-
Diana lunges towards the knife, fingertips brushing its hilt just as her blood dries a flaky black.
Her body slams into the cave walls in the next second, percussive force rippling through the air.
She crumples to the ground, struggling to lift her head.
White boots pass in front of her eyes.
She watches as they move towards her colleague, her friend, only to be surprised as they stop in front of the cultists instead.
As the air returns to her body, Diana lifts herself up, shaking arms supporting her as the weight of the atmosphere presses down.
She looks at the being, the sight almost making her collapse once more.
Mist curls around its form like a mountain peak, iridescent light glowing near its head, pitch black night covering its body, the pinprick of stars so small you can’t see them straight on, claws like a falcon’s beak: unhidden and meant to tear apart. And more importantly, wrapped around the leaders neck.
““̵̨̮̣̀͊̓Y̷͖̊̒o̸̤͈͍͌̈́͘u̶̗̭̲̍ ̵̬̤̞̀̑ā̴̟r̸̹̝̉e̴̞̦̮͑̍ ̴̣̩̖͑̓͛a̷̮̞͍͊͆͝ ̶͍̀̈́́f̷̖̄ò̸͈̓͝ǫ̷̅̀̔l̶̹̥̹̋͌͠.̴̤̲̈́͋̀”̶̛̫̺̈́”
The voice rattles her heart within her chest. She watches as Batman continues to try and stand.
The cultist struggles against the hand, mumbling screams behind Constantine’s bind. The creature tears it off with one claw.
“We summ-moned-… the king! Pa-pariah-!“
The creatures hand barely twitches, but the cultist breaks off in a scream. She is surprised to note the other cultists react exactly alike. As if linked.
“̵̻͝Ý̷͚o̶͈͝u̷̦̐ ̶̆͜d̶͈̄ǐ̸̢d̵̲̓ ̴͖̽n̴̘̅ȯ̸͍t̵̛̯ ̴̫̐ŝ̵̗u̴̹̇m̶̨͠m̴̡̽o̴̱̐n̵̘͝ ̴̪̈h̴̨̀i̶͝ͅm̸̰͗.̴͍͆”̸͔̔ The creature growls, “À̴̳n̸̛̜d̶͒ͅ ̴̤̃y̸̬͝ǫ̸̒u̵̫͗ ̶̘͛a̴̫̐r̷̠̈e̶͂ͅ ̶͔̋ḽ̶̔ủ̷͜c̷̥̍k̴̲͊ÿ̸̯́ ̶͓́f̷͇͝o̷͎͒ŕ̴͇ ̶͔͝t̶̞̀h̸̲̉ȧ̸̮t̷̩͝.̷͔̍ ̵͙͐I̸͎͌f̶͖͛ ̶̜̇y̵̜͗o̴̩̍ṵ̶͆ ̵̫̈́h̴͛ͅā̴̼d̸̤͆…̵͍̈́i̵͍̐t̸̡̉ ̴̭͂w̷̥̔o̷̟̅u̴̪͂l̸̞̏d̵͚̀ ̵͓̃b̴̢̽e̵̗͠ ̸͕̉m̸̠͆u̶̖͘c̷̯͘h̴̤̎ ̸̥́w̷͚͝o̸͐ͅr̶̦͐s̵̨̿e̸͕͆ ̸̙̑f̴̧̂o̶̱̓ȓ̷̟ ̴̠͗ÿ̸̥́ö̵͜ŭ̶̟.̵͎̉”̶͍̀
The man whimpers under the claws.
"I̴n̷s̵t̴e̷a̵d̸,̶ ̵y̸o̷u̵ ̴g̵o̷t̶ ̷m̸e̸,̴I̴ ̶g̵u̸a̷r̶d̴ ̶h̶i̷s̵ ̶p̸r̸i̵s̵o̵n̶ ̶b̶e̷c̴a̷u̴s̶e̸ ̵I w̴a̸s̴ ̵t̴h̸e̷ ̸o̴n̸e̴ ̷t̸o̶ ̶p̵u̴t̵ ̴h̸i̴m̶ ̵t̴h̷e̸r̶e̴ ̵o̶n̵c̸e̵ ̶m̶o̸r̸e̸.̵”̴ The creature leans into the cultist, arching ever higher, angles sharpening, body distorting, "“̸̝͋a̵̱͋n̶͓͛d̵̘́ ̵̡̍f̷̱͊o̵͚̓r̷̪̎ ̴̭̑a̷̬̓s̷͙̅ ̷͍͌ĺ̵̫o̸̻͆ņ̵̀g̶̚ͅ ̷̬͌a̶̮̿s̵̩͊ ̸̫̌t̸̲̕h̸̢̉e̷̖͗ ̴̰̋c̸̹̀ȍ̸͎s̷̡̃m̵̥̍o̷̜͋s̷̗͐ ̴̜͆e̷̛̙x̸͓̑i̶͉̿s̸̹̀t̵̛̺,̴̡͠Í̷̢ ̷̣̽w̵̠͋i̶̺͒l̴̠͐l̸̮̃ ̴͍͌k̴̰̑e̸̠͐e̷̟͋p̵̲̏ ̸̙̂h̷̘͋ị̸́m̸͕̚ ̶̳̋t̶̡̒h̷̩͆e̷̪͝r̷̒͜e̵̡̔.̵̭͗”̵̮̔
There’s a dull flash as light flashes beneath the cultists skin, beneath all of the cultist’s skin, before they drop to the ground unconscious.
All too quickly, air returns to the room, pressure lifting like a deep breath into the room.
The creature turns, eyes meeting Diana’s for just a second as he turns towards the chalked lines of the circle. Diana lifts herself to her feet, drawing closer to Batman as they both watch him, hesitant.
On the other side of the room, Constantine and Zatanna also struggle to their feet, eyes filled with fear and caution as they take in the scene.
As the creature moves, mist still rolling off him in waves, his features fall away with it, gradually smoothing to a more human visage. It looks… young. Boyish.
Those same white boots crush down on the formed crown, the cooled lava rock crumbling under one step. Next is the ring, held carefully in two hands the creature whispers over it, breathy wind carrying it away as it turns to dust. He holds the blade with one hand, flakes disintegrating off as he lifts it.
Diana’s arm tingles.
Then the creature is standing in front of the last point, holding the small brown pouch of sand with consideration.
Silence reigns in the room.
Constantine, of course, is the one to break it.
“I believe that’s mine, mate,” he cuts in, stance still laden with suspicion.
“Oh?” The creature smiles, almost mockingly as he turns to Constantine, “Is it? If I wasn’t mistaken, this ritual calls for Dream’s sand. Are you Dream of the Endless, little magician?”
Constantine visibly swallows, “I’m not.”
The creature huffs a laugh, fangs glinting in his smirk. He moves swiftly, pivoting on one foot to toss the pouch at Constantine, “Catch.”
Constantine lurches forward to try and catch it, only to find it vanish in the air before it reaches his fingers.
The creature cackles, floating backwards, “What did you do to get your hands on such an amount of Dream’s sand, magician? I’m curious.”
“It was a family present,” Constantine grinds out as he turns back to the gently levitating humanoid form, “You can drop the kid facade by the way, you’re not tricking anyone here looking like that.”
The creature shrugs, “And if I’m comfortable like this?”
Diana steps in to stop Constantine from snapping back, “Who are you, spirit, to be summoned by such a ritual?”
The creature watches her for a beat, “I am Phantom of the Dead City, Protector of infinite realms. They did not bring me here, but I knew who they wished to summon and came because of it.”
Batman steps forward, voice interrogating, “The Sarcophagus of Eternal Sleep-“
“Remains sealed. The Tyrant King remains trapped and at rest, do not worry.”
Somehow Diana does not think that soothes Batman, even as a great a warrior as he is.
“Hn.”
“Now, about that spell book,” Phantom turns to Zatanna, waving a hand and the book flies to him. He hovers a hand over it, and Diana watches in fascination as the chalk on the floor begins to burn away, the drawing in the book following.
Phantom looks at her once more, eyes too wise and strong for the age of his face, and then from one moment to the next, he is gone.
The book drops to the floor with a slam, cover open to aged blank pages as the last of the sigil burns away.
Hesitantly, Constantine goes to it, the rest of them following. When Constantine lifts the book with careful hands, they watch another image fade into view on the paper.
A cool colored image of Phantom rising over a city skyline outlined in green against a deep violet sky. Even on paper, his visage shifts constantly between the boyish figure and the ethereal danger of the form he’d appeared in.
Beneath the city lays a large coffin covered in chains.
The lock glows a pulsing toxic green before fading to a steely gunmetal grey and going still.
“Well that was the best encounter I’ve had with a dangerous dimensional figure and I still lost the dream sand.”
Zatanna’s slap echoes in the cave.
#batman#danny phantom#batfam#dc#danny fenton#batman and robin#danny phantom crossover#young justice#bruce wayne#wonder woman#dpxdc#cryptid Danny fenton#John Constantine#Zatanna Zatara#dpdc#dp
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I just read one of your works with Alastor ears and KAKAISKSNSMSDHJSJ IT WAS ADORABLE, can you write one about the reader finding out Alastor has a tail and he's all flustered and nervous about it because well HES THE RADIO DEMON HES SCARY and he can't be scary when his tail wags when the reader praises him (MAKE IT WHOLESOME PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE)
HELLOOO I LOVE ALASTOR TAIL!! tail + more sleepytime = deadly fic combo THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST!
Silky Fur
alastor x reader (comfort/fluff)
TW: none?
join my discord!
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After a year of being together, you and Alastor had fallen into a rather steady nightly routine, though sometimes he was too busy with Satan Knows What and would leave the hotel and you wondering if he would come back to you for the night. When this happened, you often didn’t see him till the next morning—or, even the afternoon.
Lately, that “sometimes” had turned into every night. For the past week. And it was starting to make you feel… kind of shitty, you couldn’t even lie to yourself. You spent so many hours reasoning and making excuses for him—he was an Overlord, after all. No wonder he was so busy! Plus, you just so happened to fall into his life; you shouldn’t expect him to just give up his duties for you.
You looked at the ceiling, arms spread out on either side of you as you tried to convince yourself to stop feeling bad for the sixth night in a row. You missed him next to you, and started to find it harder and harder to get to sleep without his company. You craved him, and you wondered if he craved you in the same way—if he even missed you.
You sat up with a groan after a few more minutes, letting your feet dangle off the side of the bed. It was pointless, you decided, just laying down doing nothing. If you couldn’t sleep, you might as well go do something productive. You threw on a hoodie and made your way down the long corridor, and then down the steps.
This late in the night, the sky had an eerie red glow. It filtered through the curtains of the large hotel windows, casting long, sharp shadows that made your skin crawl if you looked too long. No matter how long you lived in Hell, you never got used to the unfriendly ambience. You had to remind yourself that you were safe in the hotel. You stuffed your hands in the pockets of your hoodie and looked towards your feet as you walked.
There was some paperwork regarding a couple residents you promised Charlie you would help her process. So, you decided you could get a headstart on finishing them, although you didn’t really see the point in the paperwork itself; it was all just going to be horrible criminal records that Charlie would try desperately to ignore.
You opted for the hotel lobby over the cramped office, spreading out the papers across the low coffee table. It wasn’t very comfortable, but you were glad to at least be out of the room.
You sat for a mind numbing amount of time, only listening to the ticking of a faint clock as you processed the information for the residents. It was times like this that made you want to curse Alastor for refusing to allow any sort of modern technology into the hotel. You get it, of course, with Vox and all—but, man, what you wouldn’t give to just have an easy spreadsheet to type this all into.
If you weren’t tired before, you sure were now. Your eyes drug across the papers, blearily taking in the information. You blinked heavily, trying to rid your vision of the tears of exhaustion. You slumped back with a sigh, the pages loosely held in your hands as you rested your eyes for a moment.
Bad idea.
Almost immediately, sleep overtook you, papers slipping through your fingers and drifting across the floor in every direction as your consciousness faded away.
You woke again when you felt your body jostling, then suddenly lifted. It took a minute to wake up enough to peer through cracked eyelids and see that you were being carried up the hotel stairs. You felt familiar arms cradling your back and legs, and the firmness of a chest that your head rested against.
You didn’t need to look up to know who it was. That staticy feeling in the air and prickling your skin was enough to know. You let your body relax again, but couldn’t seem to catch sleep again.
He hummed a gentle tune as he walked, using his knee to turn the doorknob to your shared room. He pushed it open with his shoulder and walked you in.
You felt the plush sheets of your bed as he sat you down, but you pushed yourself back up into a sitting position to look at him. Stare at him. You hoped he could pick apart your emotions just by the way you glared. If he did, he made no attempt at asking what was wrong, and merely looked back at you with his slightly glowing red eyes and wide grin.
“You’ll hurt your back, falling asleep on the couch like that!” He started to chastise you playfully. He turned his back to you and opened up a drawer against the wall.
“Where have you been, Al,” You asked, ignoring his comment. You looked towards your feet. It was hard questioning him, because he didn’t take much seriously, no matter how serious you felt. There was a lump in your throat as you spoke.
“Busy as usual, my dear,” He replied in a sing-song voice. A quiet jazz tune emanated from the microphone atop his cane. Or, would that make it a radio? Both, probably. He rummaged through that drawer for a moment, before pulling out a thin, plain shirt and fuzzy pajama pants.
He walked back over to you, and you noticed the way his eyes flicked across your face, examining your expression. Still, he said nothing. You’d like to think he felt guilty, and didn’t want to admit it—but, truly, you doubted it. He wasn’t one for guilt, after all.
“I’ve been pretty lonely for a week, you know,” You said, folding your arms. “I’d at least like a better explanation.”
You allowed your arms to fall when he pulled at your elbows. You lifted them above your head as he gingerly gripped the edges of your hoodie and pulled it off. He quickly replaced it with the shirt he had grabbed earlier. He followed similar motions with your pants.
As angry as you were, you appreciated intimate moments like this with him. Moments so close, so vulnerable and bare, but still comfortable and sensitive. It was weird, with him being the Radio Demon and all.
“Maintaining turfs and deals is exhausting work, ma moitie, and there’s a few souls that haven’t been keeping up with their side of our bargains,” Alastor explained rather indifferently. Though, you could tell by the strain in his smile and the clipping in the radio static that he was trying his best to be delicate and honest—as possible as that is with Alastor.
“Just– tell me something next time, at least, ‘kay?” You felt embarrassed by the practically begging tone in your voice, but Alastor didn’t seem to notice.
“I suppose it is wrong for a gentleman to leave his lady questioning,” Alastor joked. He meant it, though, and he carefully smoothed your hair in an attempt at comfort.
He stepped away from you, and you frowned at the sudden space. The frown was quickly replaced by a wide smile when you noticed Alastor removing his sharp coat and carefully hanging it by the door.
What a treat, you thought, as you watched him discard the layers of his outfit. Your mouth fell open when he turned his back to you.
“You have a tail?” You asked. Alastor’s ears twitched back for a moment, stiff.
Clear as day, right in front of your eyes, was a tail you had somehow never seen before. Delicate, fluffy, and red with black—just like his ears. You couldn’t stop the stunned laugh that escaped your mouth.
“Regretfully, I do,” Alastor responded. He quickly turned back to face you. His nose was scrunched in disdain and his lips were curled in a frustrated smile. “Don’t talk about it. To anybody.”
You laughed again and quickly beckoned him towards the bed. He complied and sat down next to you. He had noticeably sat in such a way that his waist was angled to keep his tail out of sight.
You pouted at him, wordlessly motioning towards what you both knew you wanted.
He narrowed his eyes at you. “I’m not a pet, nor a toy,” He said roughly. The static in his voice was heavy. You knew he was embarrassed, and that made your grin all the wider. It probably rivaled his own harsh smile.
“I’ll never, ever, ever ask again, ever,” You promised, holding out your pinky. Alastor’s eyes rolled at the motion. Alternatively, he held out his palm for you to shake.
You eyed his hand, then looked back up to him. You jerked your pinky towards him, urging him to take it instead. You weren’t about to actually bind your promise in a real deal. You knew in, like, a week you would probably beg him to see his tail again.
“How incredibly childish,” He sighed. Still, he curled his hand into a fist and connected his sharp pinky with your own. “I won’t forget about this.” He threatened.
“Yeah, yeah, show me the goods,” You said with a sly smile. Alastor stared at you for a few seconds, narrowed his eyes, and roughly twisted his waist so that his tail turned towards you. He kicked his leg up and over the other, and folded his arms all sassy-like and impatiently waited for you to finish your very important mission.
You smiled gratefully, and gingerly settled your hands on the tail. It was so incredibly soft. As much hatred he seemed to hold for the thing, Alastor obviously took great care in the fur, keeping it silky smooth and combed.
It seemed sensitive, and you noticed how his ears twitched and turned in response to your touch. His eyes were cast away from you, and his brows were furrowed. Was he blushing? No, probably a trick of the light.
“Your tail is super soft, Al,” You complimented. “Probably the best in all of Hell.”
“Are you quite finished,” He asked through gritted teeth, his eyes clenched shut. His own body betrayed him, though, as his tail wagged at you slightly. You held in a squeal of delight at the sight, knowing he would probably leave you right then and there. However, you had been at it for a few minutes and didn’t want to push your luck any further. You sighed in response, and removed your fingers from his tail.
“I guess, for now,” You said playfully. This elicited a sharp look from the Radio Demon.
“For forever,” He claimed. “We shook pinkies.”
You managed to hold in the laugh from his words. It was impossible to take him seriously as he said that, especially as he sat with a tail on full display and ears quirked backwards in embarrassment.
You yawned, opting to stop responding to him. You tugged at the hem of his shirt as you fell back into the mattress, and he easily let himself fall alongside you. He was settled next to you, and you practically magnetically attached yourself to him. He was stiff for a few minutes, but slowly unwound and relaxed next to you.
It didn’t take long at all for you to fall asleep. With the familiar heat and weight of his body in the mattress next to you, you were comfortable again for the first time in a week. The feeling of Alastor’s nails playing through your hair was the final straw as a deep sleep erased your senses.
#ohdeerfully#hazbin hotel#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#fluff#alastor x you#alastor is kind of a butt at first#his tail makes up for it tho#i imagine its super sensitive bc he ignores it so much#he might be touched starved but u didnt hear it from me!
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Why?
Pairing: Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Reader (Daughter of Athena)
Synopsis: Percy sees something he never expected to see.
Warnings: Fluff, kissing, confused Percy, Clarisse slander (Percy), fear of spiders. lmk if I missed any.
This one-shot is based on this tweet.
A/N: Hello, lovely people. I'm back. I can't believe it's been almost a year since I last wrote on here. My writing skills got rusty, but I hope you enjoy reading anyway.
not my gif. || masterlist
Percy was walking with Luke as the latter continued showing him the camp facilities that they didn’t get to go over in the original tour when he sees a strange sight that makes him stop walking. He squints his eyes, wondering if his mind was playing tricks on him. When his visions do not change, his eyebrows raise, almost going to the top of his head by how surprised he was.
Luke stops talking when he notices that Percy’s attention was elsewhere. He tries to follow Percy’s line of sight and chuckles when he does. “Oh, yeah. That.” Luke smiles, amused. “That happens pretty much every once in a while.”
“Should we help her?” Percy asks, mortified, as he refers to you. He felt uneasy, seeing you with Clarisse. She is the camp bully, isn’t she? People shouldn’t be leaving you alone with her. Something about the predicament he saw the two of you in seemed off. It shouldn’t be happening, that’s for sure. He steps forward, wanting to free you from the torture when Luke places a hand on his shoulder, preventing him from doing so.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Luke shakes his head, making sure Percy wasn’t going to make any more steps before he retracts his hand.
“Why are Clarisse and Y/n sitting with their backs to each other?” Percy looks up at Luke, knowing the older camper wasn’t going to let him interfere. The least Luke could do was answer his questions.
“They had a fight.” Luke explains simply, still with an amused smirk.
“Then why are they holding hands?”
“They get sad when they fight.” The raven-haired boy shrugs.
Percy doesn’t say anything, keeping up with his staring. It didn’t occur to him how creepy or weird it was, seeing how baffled he still is upon seeing you and Clarisse in the same room, and holding hands. It’s giving him the heebie-jeebies. What business did Clarisse have holding hands with one of the kindest people in camp? He didn’t like that idea, but there was nothing he could do about it. His only hope was that Clarisse doesn’t infect you with her bad attitude.
Meanwhile, inside the Athena cabin, you squeezed Clarisse’s hand three times, but you didn’t say a word. You were still pretty upset from the incident earlier.
Clarisse tried to look at you from her peripheral vision and even though you couldn’t see it, you knew that her face was ridden with guilt. She sighs, “Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have tossed that spider to you when we were in the woods, even if I was freaked out.”
You had been walking in the woods together, hand in hand, when a spider fell on Clarisse’s shoulder. Her natural instinct was to kill it, but she didn’t have any weapons with her and she was starting to panic, so she did the first thing her brain told her to do. She flung the spider over to you despite knowing full well that you were afraid of them.
You take a deep breath, staying silent for a few seconds before saying, “I forgive you and I’m sorry for yelling and cursing you.” Your head hung low in shame. That wasn’t your proudest moment either. The things you said would have made even Chiron blush.
Clarisse gives out a huge sigh of relief, momentarily letting go of your hand so she can stand up. She walks over so she can finally be face to face with you. “It’s okay, I forgive you. You were freaking out too.” She wraps her arms around you, meeting your gaze with a smile.
“I thought my soul left my body at that point.” You pouted, bits of distress still not wearing off.
She cups your face, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on your lips. “Do you feel better now?” She asks with a soft smile.
You can’t stop the smile from spreading to your face, too. You wrap your arms around her waist and hug her from your position on the chair, holding her tighter for maximum comfort. Clarisse laughs at how you didn’t want to let go, even after two minutes have passed.
“I love you so much. You know that, right?” Clarisse states, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
“I know.” You murmur happily against her, wanting nothing more than to stay in this moment forever.
Outside the cabin, about ten feet away, Percy Jackson could be seen with his jaw dropped and eyes wider than before. “They’re dating?!” He exclaims, looking at Luke in a panic. It seems that he didn’t connect the dots until you and Clarisse kissed. And even then, it seemed like it wasn’t true. He wasn’t concerned anymore, just confused.
Luke’s brows furrowed. “Couldn’t you already tell by the way they were holding hands earlier?”
Percy stares at Luke, his mouth agape, then back to you and Clarisse, then back to Luke again, feeling like he was about to combust because of this new information. “What? No. Why would I even—”
Luke pulls Percy along, cutting his rambling short. “You have much to learn, Percy. So much.” He walks ahead, heading back to the Hermes cabin. “Come on. I’ll fill you in when we get back to the cabin.”
#clarisse la rue#clarisse pjo#clarisse x reader#clarisse la rue x reader#clarisse la rue x y/n#percy jackon and the olympians
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A day to forget | Matt Sturniolo
Matt Sturniolo x reader
Summary: Where, in a day full of downs, Y/N faces a series of challenges at work that culminate in an anxiety attack in the car on the way home, but Matt is by her side to bring her back.
Warning: Anxiety attack, crying, bad thoughts, bad day.
Requested?: Yes, by anon
Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
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Y/N sighed as she sat at her office desk, preparing herself for another day of work. The comforting smell of the freshly brewed coffee Matt bought at the Starbucks drive thru on the way to her company surrounded her as she adjusted her chair and turned on her computer.
But what seemed like a smooth start quickly turned into a disaster.
As the girl reached for her mouse, her elbow hit the cup, which surprisingly wasn't closed properly, spilling the scalding liquid onto her keyboard and legs. An involuntary scream escaped her lips as she jumped up from her chair, trying to clean up the mess with her hands, hurting them in the process. Her eyes traveled across her desk, picking up the nearest blank papers - since she didn't have any napking - draping them over her thighs.
"Great, just great." She muttered to herself, feeling the penetrating heat of the drink on her skin and the bitter aroma mixing with the smell of the office.
Embarrassed, she crumpled up the paper, throwing them in the trash beneath her desk before heading over to the tea table, picking up a handful of napkins, her eyes darting around her, feeling gazes burning into her back.
The girl took a deep breath, turning around and returning to her seat. Surreptitiously, she cleaned the keyboard as best she could and tried to dry her legs with what was left of the napkins, but the damage was done.
Feeling discouraged, she tried to focus on her work, but her mind was troubled by the incident.
Hours passed, and Y/N was immersed in an important project when her boss, Mr. Johnson appeared next to her desk.
“Y/N, can you give me the reports from the finance department?” He asked in a serious voice, his eyes running over the small drips of coffee dry on the wooden surface as his nose wrinkled at the strong smell.
Without thinking, Y/N picked up the documents that were in the pile of papers on the right side of her desk and handed them to him with a confident smile. However, her confidence quickly disappeared when she read a small excerpt from the back of the last page, then realizing that she had given him the wrong papers.
A feeling of horror overcame her when she saw the shocked expression on her boss's face as he looked at the contents.
"What is this, Y/N?" His voice was thick with anger as he looked at her disapprovingly. "Those aren't the reports I asked for!"
Y/N felt her face burn with embarrassment as she tried to articulate an apology, but the words seemed to stick in her throat. She helplessly watched her boss throw the papers haphazardly beside her right arm, turning and walking away, muttering irritably about the incompetence of some employees.
Shoulders slumped, Y/N turned forward, fighting back tears of frustration, her blurry vision distorting the entire contents of her computer. She wondered how she could have made such a silly mistake and felt discouraged by her own incompetence.
As she tried to refocus on her work with the onset of a headache and her chest burning in agony, the office light flickered and then went out completely. A collective sigh of frustration echoed through the office as all the employees were plunged into darkness.
Y/N clenched her fists in frustration as she realized she hadn't saved her recent work, the black screen staring back at her. She knew she would have to start from scratch, probably take work home so she could finish the task on time, having already irritated her boss beyond belief, a disheartening thought after such a disastrous day.
In the dark silence of the office, Y/N fought the feeling of defeat that threatened to consume her. She knew she would have to overcome the day's challenges and continue, after all, she was just another employee and couldn't afford to rest her mind before keep going, and at the moment, all she wanted was to escape the turmoil and forget the terrible day she had.
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The clock marked the end of the day, and the office was empty. Y/N collected her belongings and headed to the company entrance, ready to meet her boyfriend Matt, along with Nick and Chris, who would pick her up after they finished recording the car video that would be posted the next day.
She waited patiently in front of the front doors, watching the strong wind sway the palm trees around the luxurious entrance. Her thoughts wandered to the disastrous day she had at work, reliving each moment in her mind, wearing herself down with the thoughts of what she could have done better for everything that happened, not happening. The feeling of failure weighed heavily on her shoulders, but she forced herself to maintain a neutral expression, hiding her emotions from the few passersby who passed by.
Time passed, and Matt still hadn't arrived. Y/N checked the time on her phone several times, feeling impatience growing inside her. She knew she should give him the benefit of the doubt. After all, unforeseen events happened, but her anxious mind couldn't help but think about all the things that could have happened.
Then, as if the universe were conspiring against her, the gray clouds above her head broke, and torrential rain began to fall. Y/N looked up, feeling the cold drops wet her face and penetrate her clothes, soiling her pants even more. She wished she had brought an umbrella, but it was too late to regret it now.
As she waited in the rain, Y/N felt flooded with a mix of emotions. The frustration of the day was mixed with concern about Matt being late and the feeling of helplessness in the face of adverse weather. She wanted to burst into tears, to let out all the tension and anguish she had been carrying, but a part of her refused to give in.
Instead, Y/N maintained a mask of calm, keeping her emotions locked inside herself as her mind screamed silently, her arms crossed tightly beneath her breasts, trying to trap as much heat as possible.
Finally, after an endless wait, Y/N saw Matt's car approaching. Her heart leaped in relief as he stopped in front of her, watching Chris rush out the passenger door, leaving it open for her and getting into the backseat next to Nick.
"Sorry I'm late, babe." Matt asked after making sure she was seated and comfortable, a guilty smile decorating his face. "We had some problems with the topics and barely noticed the time passing."
Y/N just nodded, forcing a smile in response. She knew there was no point in complaining or breaking down now.
As the car drove away from the company, leaving chaos and rain behind, Y/N took a deep breath as she leaned her head against the glass, ignoring the discomfort of her clothes sticking against her skin.
In the back seat, Chris and Nick were immersed in a lively conversation about one of the topics discussed in the video as the car moved along the wet road, a topic that Y/N was sure she would've joined on the discussion if she wasn't feeling so bad.
The steady rhythm of the rain beating against the glass provided a relaxing background, but this calm was soon interrupted when Chris decided, out of the blue, that he wanted to connect his phone to the car speaker to put some music.
"Wait, I found a song earlier today that's a very Lil Skies vibe." Chris said with an excited smile, fishing his cell out of the front pocket of his sweatpants.
Before he could select the song, Nick acted quickly, taking the device out of Chris's hand.
"No, wait! Billie released a new song recently." Nick recalled, with a challenging tone of voice. "You always pick the same songs."
Chris frowned, retrieving his phone again, as if it were a tug of war.
"No, today I want to listen to my songs!"
The exchange quickly turned into an argument, with Chris and Nick gradually raising their voices as they argued over who should control the car stereo like two kids, while Matt watched them in the rearview mirror, telling them to shut up from time to time. The friendly atmosphere of the previous moment quickly disappeared, replaced by a palpable tension that filled the interior of the vehicle.
Meanwhile, Y/N huddled tighter on her seat, feeling more and more overwhelmed by the tense atmosphere. She tried to focus on the scenery passing by the window, but the sound of Chris and Nick's loud, gruff voices hit her like an avalanche.
She closed her eyes for a moment, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm her nerves. She knew she shouldn't get involved in the brothers' fight, that she had nothing to do with it, and that, unsurprisingly, discussions like that were routine in her life. But despite her efforts to control herself, the pressure of the horrible day she had had weighed on her shoulders like an unbearable burden.
As the argument continued to intensify, Y/N felt a wave of anxiety wash over her, the desperation to scream at them to shut up getting bigger. Her heartbeat accelerated, her breathing became shallow, and her hands began to shake involuntarily.
She knew an anxiety attack was coming, but she fought to contain it, fearing what would happen if she lost control, not wanting to worry the boys, or worse, upset them even more.
However, even with all her determination, Y/N was unable to prevent the inevitable. Chris and Nick's rising voices, mixed with the crushing weight of her own worries, were too much to bear. A sudden sob escaped her throat, tearing the air inside the car, which was soon followed by more sobs, each one more anguished than the last.
Her shoulders began to shake violently, her body contorting under the overwhelming weight of her emotions. She tried to hold back, but the tears came in torrents, blurring her vision and obscuring her world.
Matt looked away from the road to look at her, his expression turning to immediate concern when he saw her condition.
"Y/N, babe, what's going on?" He asked, his voice full of alarm.
Chris and Nick abruptly fell silent, their argument forgotten as they looked at Y/N with expressions of shock and concern.
But Y/N couldn't respond. She was deep in her own mind, fighting the waves of anxiety that consumed her. Her world had narrowed to nothing but pain and despair, her body shaking uncontrollably under the weight of her thoughts.
The interior of the car was immersed in a tense silence. Matt kept a steady hand on the steering wheel, but his attention was entirely focused on Y/N, whose sobs filled the space between them.
"Baby? Hey, petal, look at me." Matt asked softly, his voice flooding with concern as he tried to reach her through the abyss of her anguish.
Y/N reluctantly raised her eyes to meet Matt's, but her vision was blurred by the tears still streaming down her face. She felt a wave of despair as she realized that she couldn't calm down no matter how hard she tried.
Matt took his right hand off the steering wheel, keeping control of the car with his left one, bringing it to Y/N's leg, stroking the wet covered skin with a firm touch, trying to bring her back.
"Breathe with me, baby. C'mon, take a deep breath. That's it, in... then out."
He began counting in a low voice, guiding her through deep, slow breaths. Y/N tried to follow his instructions, focusing on the rhythm of her breathing and the comforting feeling of Matt's touch.
Meanwhile, Chris remained silent in the backseat, his expression a mixture of guilt and concern. He knew that his actions had contributed to Y/N's current state, and that weighed heavily on his conscience.
Beside him, Nick placed a light hand on her shoulder, silently conveying support. He wanted to find the right words to comfort Y/N, but he felt helpless in the face of the situation.
Then, suddenly, Matt turned the steering wheel abruptly, turning the car towards the side of the road, parking it there quickly, knowing that he would get nowhere if he kept trying to help her in a moving vehicle. He unbuckled his own belt, followed by hers before turning fully to his girl, his eyes fixed on hers with gentle determination.
"Sweetheart, listen to me." The brunette ordered, his voice firm, but full of love. "You're safe. I'm here with you, and I'm not going anywhere."
He gently took her face in his hands, caressing the icy skin of her cheeks and leaning over the console to kiss her forehead tenderly. Each gesture was full of care and affection, an attempt to dispel the fog of anxiety that enveloped Y/N.
"You are strong, my beautiful, beautiful girl." Matt continued, his voice soft and comforting. "You'll get through this. I'm here for you no matter what."
With his loving words and gentle touches, Matt began to guide Y/N out of the abyss of her anxiety attack. He wrapped her in his protective arms, almost laying his torso on the console - ignoring the pain the hard surface provided to his skin, holding her tightly as she sobbed into his chest.
Minute by minute, Y/N's shaking lessened, her breathing becoming more regular. Finally, after what looked like an eternity, she pulled away slightly from Matt's arms, looking up at him with gratitude in her moist eyes.
"Thank you." She whispered, her voice breaking, her teeth catching her lower lip momentarily, feeling guilty for making them have to witness such a situation. "I... I'm fine now."
"I'm so proud of you, sweetheart. So, so proud." Matt smiled at her, his eyes brimming with relief as her voice emanated calm. "I love you."
"I love you more."
As the car returned to the road, the storm inside Y/N began to dissipate. Her arms remained crossed around her own torso, trying to convey some sort of comfort to her body as she didn't receive the touch from Matt that she so desperately craved.
"I'm sorry, boys." The girl whispered a few seconds later, turning slightly back, her eyes darting from Chris to Nick and back again.
"Never apologize for situations like this, Y/N. You can't control your body, much less your emotions." Nick quickly stopped her avalanche of negative thoughts, giving her a serious but loving look.
"It's us who should apologize. I imagine something must have happened before, but either way, we're the ones who caused this." Chris looked down at the top of the car's console, scratching the back of his head with his right hand in embarrassment.
"It's okay. It was just a bad day." The girl smiled slightly at the two, her eyes still burning from the intense crying and her body sore from the strong tremors, but her heart could now rest.
Matt looked at her momentarily, smiling big and proud, his blue eyes shining with pure love. His hand, which was still on her thigh, lightly pressed the covered skin, stroking it with his thumb, before turning his gaze forward again.
༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
My asks are always open. My requests are closed at the moment since I have many to work in, but you can always send questions or simply talk to me 🩷💋
And remember to treat people with kindness always!
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When I say that this journey is real, and our struggles are not in vain, I am shouting it from the rooftops. A month ago, I woke up with my dream life. Obsessed with the "void state", I woke up one day being the same person but with an entirely new life. All because I chose it.
Your efforts aren't going unnoticed. The universe is always on your side. You are the universe. It's been a month, and I still feel overwhelmed with joy and wonder every single day.
I was once poor and battling depression, a reality many can relate to. But we found the law because we knew we deserved more. You can be ordinary, flawed, even unkind, but you can choose to transform and have it all. And I did just that. My parents, who were illegal immigrants working underpaid jobs, are now wealthy and respected figures. My last name alone garners recognition, and I am a socialite earning money just by being me.
I used to live in an attic infested with cockroaches. Now, I reside in a four-story mansion, complete with exotic cars, house help, cooks, drivers - all treated and compensated fairly. We also own three other houses across the United States.
I was once insecure, severely underweight, and bullied. Today, not only am I stunningly beautiful, but I am also praised for my fashion sense. I was once a dull person, but now I am radiant with positivity.
I attended an underfunded school where I was bullied, and teachers lacked resources to intervene. Now, I study at a prestigious private school that assures my entry into an Ivy League university. Finally, I am respected and appreciated.
I was lonely and uninteresting. Now, I am vibrant with a close-knit group of friends and a man who seems straight out of a Wattpad story. He's perfect, and he's mine.
This transformation happened overnight. And I've been on this journey since 2020. But how??? I surrendered to my imagination!
The void was overwhelming, but now I can easily navigate it. I was tired of giving my power away. So, I gave in to myself, to my dreams. I knew I deserved it. Even if I didn't believe it at times, I made the choice. If you desire something, it's already yours. It's done.
I didn't have a list or anything of my desires, just a vision of happiness. I didn't know what it looked like, but I knew how it felt. Now, I embody that feeling every day. My life is a series of plot twists. It's not perfect, but my worst days now are what I once prayed for. That old life? POOF It's gone. All I have is now, and I'm living it to the fullest.
My advice?
Stop seeking proof. If you're looking for proof, you'll never manifest your dreams because the only thing that needs to change is self. Doubt is a reflection of your disbelief in yourself. When I surrendered to my imagination, it didn't matter who was lying or telling the truth, because I had my truth. The burden of proof lies within you. It's called the law of assumption. You might harbor some doubt, but you must have faith like the devout. They believe without proof. You can too! We all can! Believe in yourself, and the universe will conspire in your favor!!!!
I agree! Your words resonated with me a lot. Faith, particularly self-faith, is such an important tool in shaping our realities. The ability to trust ourselves, our desires, and our potential is essential in manifesting our dream life, and it’s only so beautiful to slowly see yourself give yourself all your trust when you’ve never even liked yourself.
You're spot on about the issue of seeking confirmation from others. It's an unnecessary hurdle that we give ourselves but it’s human nature. Our truths and dreams should not be validated by anyone else but us. As you said, why should it matter if someone lied or told the truth? We are the creators of our own lives and thus, the only validation we need comes from within.
And I wholeheartedly agree with your point about deservingness. We don't have to earn our desires or prove ourselves worthy of them. If we want something, that desire alone makes us deserving of it.
More importantly I am very proud and happy for you !!!! You’re a testament of what our own imagination can do for us and I hope you only keep getting happier and happier <3!!!!
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hello!!! i saw your that your requests were open so i was wondering if you were able to write a hurt/comfort zoro x reader story about how the reader gets injured from a fight, but they don’t wanna be a burden so they hide it until they collapse on deck :)))
tell me that we’ll be just fine (opla!zoro x you)
wc: 1.74k
cw/tags: hurt/comfort with happy sappy ending, swearing, canon-typical violence, descriptions of blood and injury, mentions of drinking and alcohol, zoro just loves you and you worry the shit out of him
note: yassss i love hurt/comfort injury prompts (it's the innate desire to just be carried and be vulnerable and have someone care in my weakest hour and and and and) hope you like this, thank you for your request !!
likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3
“Guys, I am about to get so wasted.”
“We still have that good shit from Baratie, yeah?”
“Hiding in the back of the cellar, baby!” A loud smack rings out into the harbor as Usopp and Sanji’s hands clap together, deliriously excited after winning a scrimmage with a rival crew. Their proud vocalizations are added to by their captain and devolve into giddy skipping down the remainder of the dock as you make your way back to the ship. Zoro walks just ahead of you, glancing back every so often like he was worried you would collapse. You were planning to, but not now. Just get to the ship. Get to the ship and we’ll be fine.
“I vote Zoro for vomit duty tomorrow morning,” Nami mutters next to you, nudging your arm with her elbow. It’s a light touch but it feels like the world tilts sharply and you pray she can’t see the panic in your eyes when you try to remain upright. Despite her best efforts to remain mature and indifferent, her eyes were sparkling with self-assurance that you only saw from her when she felt a mission went well. She carries the folder of coveted Marine intelligence under one arm, her other hand holds up a bag of goodies you’d snatched from the base that would make good money down the line. “Plus, it gives us some time to take our share of this stuff. Nice finds, by the way. I’m impressed.”
“Thanks. I learned from the best,” you reply, relief flooding you when she turns back to watch her idiot crewmates and not further inspect the limp in your step. Zoro’s eyes meet yours over his shoulder and you give him a strained smile, well aware that you probably looked like you’d crawled out of hell. When he turns away again, you exhale with great difficulty, fighting off another wave of nausea that threatens to send you stumbling into the water. It’s just a flesh wound, you figure. No need to halt their celebration just because you got a silly cut. “What’s your first pick out of the bag?”
“There’s a pretty little jeweled chalice I was looking at,” she says casually. The waning afternoon sun makes her hair look like a fire, bright and warm. “We could scrape off the rubies and pawn them at the next island.”
“Or, you could drink water from it and look like a pompous asshole.” Just keep it casual. Be normal. The pulse in your ears becomes slightly faster when you notice the foggy spots in your vision. “Freeze some of the diamonds from that candlestick and use them as ice cubes.”
“Very true,” she laughs and you force out a chuckle to mirror her, wincing at the aching pain in your side. Her eyebrows furrow and her mouth falls into a frown. Your attempts to seem fine were starting to fall through. “Hey, are you okay? You’ve been walking a little slower than usual.”
“I’m fine, I promise. I just got punched in the gut a little harder than I anticipated,” you lie straight through your teeth, well aware that it wasn’t just a fist that had you losing enough blood to fill the galley sink. To be fair, the guy’s second blade appeared out of nowhere. You were outnumbered five to one but still held your own; only when there was a single fighter left did he resort to cutthroat tricks. One minute, you’re parrying with ease; the next, a small dagger pops out from the fighter’s left sleeve, cutting a deep wound into your side before you can block it with the saber in your right hand. It was a dirty move and you mentally kicked yourself for not anticipating foul play much sooner. To make matters worse, you were only able to staunch the blood so much before Zoro found you in the courtyard. Though you sufficiently covered your injury, he was still eyeing you like he knew that something was off. Like clockwork, every minute he was checking on you. It was wordless, but you still knew he was inspecting you, waiting for you to reveal that something happened and that you needed help.
That moment came the instant your boots met the wood of the deck.
In seconds, your vision violently careens to the right and you’re conscious just enough to expect the thud of your head against the floor. But, the crash never comes. When you fall, your mind registers another body that you fall into, strong and stable. One arm slips effortlessly under your exhausted legs, lifting you from the ground while the other supports your upper back. Your eyes blur the image of your panicked crew like an oil painting, smearing it every which way until the colors are bleeding together more uncontrollably than the blood dripping from your side. Everything sounds like you’re drowning, rising above the water for a moment only to be pulled back down into murky disorientation.
“Idiot,” a low voice says. It’s wrought with worry, even though you can tell they’re trying not to hide it. It’s clear enough that you know it’s coming from whoever is holding you. “Why the hell did you wait?” You’re barely able to distinguish far-off shouting from Sanji, ordering Luffy and Usopp to grab his knives. But, if all three of them were over there and Nami was throwing open cabinets looking for the med kit, that means the person holding you was… “Fuck. I knew something was wrong.” You have half the mind to articulate a weak response, but it comes out as nothing more than a groan when you’re placed onto what feels like the galley counter. The pounding in your forehead starts to become airy, like when you’re walking down the sidewalk after a night of drinking until you were on the verge of passing out. Zoro doesn’t let you go, though. His calloused fingers gently brush the dirt from your face, quietly pleading for you to stay with me, stay with me, stay with me. “You’re okay. We’re okay. Just stay with me.”
“They’re losing a lot of blood and I can’t find the damn med kit.”
“Where’s everyone else?”
“Above deck, having a collective panic attack.” Nami’s voice sounds like it’s coming from miles away.
“Figures.” Zoro’s, on the other hand, is the only thing keeping you rooted and stopping you from drifting off. It’s sharp and strained, nothing like you’d ever heard from him before. Sanji’s lanky steps enter the kitchen and you hear the zip of his knife bag somewhere close to your ear.
“This is bad; I need to stop that bleeding or they might–” Zoro’s grip on your hand is tight, physically holding you down to reality. Whether you laced your fingers in his or the other way around, you didn’t remember.
“Well, let’s fucking do something about it then, waiter,” is the last thing you hear before darkness wipes your vision.
Your eyes blink open after what feels like seconds, but the starry sky outside the window tells you it had been hours. It takes a moment for the details to come back to you, as does the soreness where they must have patched up your wound. The hard stone of the counter has been replaced by your bed and the comforting sway of the ship tells you Luffy ordered the ship to depart. It’s healing, in a way, the rocking back and forth motion of the ship that reminds you how close you were to slipping away. After a minute, you muster up enough energy to look at the rest of your room and you can’t help smiling when you see Zoro sitting at your bedside, tensely sleeping with the Wado Ichimonji laid across his lap. His eyes fly open when you whisper his name, delicately setting his blade on the floor before crouching at your side.
“You’re okay,” he breathes and it sounds more like a reassurance for himself than for you.
“I’m okay,” you confirm just as softly, threading your fingers between his and squeezing lightly. He squeezes back, looking at you like you painted the constellations outside your window. “How long have you been here?”
“Since Sanji and Nami fixed you up, about six hours ago.”
“You’ve been sitting there for six hours?”
“I would have sat longer. I’d wait for you, no matter how long you slept,” he says and it sounds like a vow. “You scared the shit out of me, you know that?”
“Sorry,” you apologize weakly, giving him as much of a shy smile as you could. He rolls his eyes in exasperation but can’t help the corner of his mouth quirking too. “I didn’t want to bother you all while you were celebrating.”
“You really think I’m going to give alcohol priority over you?”
“Depends on the alcohol,” you point out and he shakes his head at your teasing. Your hand fits in his like a puzzle piece and you’re struck by the overwhelming feeling of safety you have whenever Zoro’s around. “But, really. I’m sorry for worrying you.”
His eyes darted to the side like you’d said something that embarrassed him. The only thing he could think to do in that moment was bring your hand to his lips and press the lightest kiss to it. A promise that he’d always take care of you. He never was the best with words, you realized in your friendship-borderline-relationship with him. The things you said tended to short-circuit his brain and it was fascinating to watch him try and think of a coherent response. In times like these, however, when he’s simply unable to find the words for how much he feels for you, his actions are infinitely louder.
“You should go back to sleep. I’ll still be here when you wake up. Do you need anything before you rest? Water or blankets or something?”
“No, just you. If you got in here with me, I wouldn’t mind,” you suggest nonchalantly and you giggle when his face becomes pinker. He obliges, though, slipping into the covers with you and carefully pulling you into him until you’re pressed against his chest like your own personal heater. His breathing is slow and steady, but you swear you can hear his heartbeat racing. “You’re the only one I’ll ever need, I think.”
“Feeling’s mutual, sweetheart. Just don’t do stupid shit like get stabbed again.”
if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)
#zoro x you#zoro x reader#zoro x y/n#roronoa zoro x you#roronoa zoro x y/n#roronoa zoro x reader#one piece x you#one piece x y/n#one piece x reader#op x reader#one piece fluff#zoro fluff#zoro roronoa x reader#zoro roronoa#roronoa zoro#opla!zoro x you#opla!zoro x reader#opla!zoro x y/n#ask iris!
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Hi, I was wondering if you could do Zoro, Luffy, Ace, Mihawk, and Lucci as well as Crocodile x Reader, what if the reader, one day tells them that they are pregnant, how would they react/ How would they be as parents? ( also maybe add some parenting shenanigans, knowing these guys.)
OMG! You have no idea how much I loved your request. I know, I know, it took me a looooong time to respond. But after a few migraines (and anxiety), I'm back. I was already thinking about doing something like that, but I was lacking some kind of inspiration so thanks <3 Maybe I got carried away with writing, I'm terrible at summaries and things like that , but I hope you like it.
The structure is kind of: them discovering the pregnancy, them dealing with the pregnancy and a small hint of how they deal with the children.
Warnings are placed individually in each story.
I'm dividing it into two parts so as not to be exhaustive. (I'm sorry, I reaaaally got carried away writing it).
PART 2 HERE - Lucci, Mihawk and Crocodile.
requests open | one piece masterlist
Zoro
Warnings: Fluuuff, super fluff. F!Reader has a bad health at the beginning of this one. Sanji is Zoro's daughter's favorite person for food reasons.And of course, Zoro is protective and jealous (especially towards the little girl).
It should have just been a momentary relief, you didn't expect the little escapades between you and Zoro to turn into a relationship. Much less did I expect to have seen the two blue lines on the small stick that you kept hidden in your small desk. How to raise a baby in Sunny? How to tell Zoro that the relationship between the two of you would now gain another part?
You wished you had more time to think about the solution, more time to even clear your doubts with Chopper, but the little being inside you insisted on demonstrating its existence. One of the days, you had almost passed out on top of Franky - who obviously freaked out. In the other, he had eaten twice as much as Luffy ate and had to come up with a lame excuse. This time, it was the third time in a row that you had put food in your mouth and it barely lasted minutes in your stomach.
"Hey…" you heard your name being called from outside the bathroom, but it was a female voice. "Do you need any help?"
"I'm fine, Robin."
"I believe that fine is not the term that best defines your situation." she laughed, still outside. Not knowing how to deal with the situation, you reached out and opened the door, giving her space to enter. "What's our plan?"
"What do you mean our plan?"
"Nausea, dizziness, food cravings, and all the noise you and Zoro make when you're alone." with every word that came out of her mouth, you could feel your skin turn pale. "The swordsman doesn't know yet, right?"
"Not yet." your face sank into your own hands, frustrated with the indecision that plagued your mind. "What do I do, Robin?"
"I suggest you talk to your boyfriend soon, I believe he might accept the idea better than you might expect." She smiled gently, brushing aside the strands of hair that stuck to your face. "However, right now he's trying to kill the cook because he thinks he gave you some spoiled food."
Robin's light laugh was left behind as you ran towards the screams, which had seemed imperceptible before now became increasingly audible.
"Stupid cook, he doesn't even know how to make an egg properly."
"You moldhead, shut your mouth."
"Mold is what you're putting in your food."
"You two stop." you stood between the two, shouting at the top of your lungs and interrupting their argument and the laughter of the others, who were entertained by Zoro and Sanji fighting. "I just… I just need…" the air seemed to disappear from your lungs and the scorching sun above you became just a black screen.
Minutes, hours, days, when your eyes opened, you felt so tired that you couldn't calculate how long you were gone. The first thing that crossed your field of vision was Chopper walking from side to side with a stethoscope in hand.
"Ah, you're awake!" he came happily by your side.
"What happened?" you knew very well what had happened, but first of all you needed to find out what the little doctor had already discovered.
"I'm sorry, but Robin told me some things." He placed the cold item to listen to your heartbeat, remaining silent for a few seconds.
"And is everything okay? I mean, with…" the word seemed to disappear from your lips, it was difficult to bring up the idea without knowing how the other party responsible for it would react.
"These days helping Franky, all this commotion from the fight, from my diagnosis, you're just exhausted. And a little dehydrated too, and that's not good for you or the baby." he explained, sweetly as usual. "By my reckoning, you must be two months pregnant. I'll talk to Luffy and Nami, so we can quickly find an island and secure supplies."
"Wait!" you held him, even though the reindeer hadn't moved. "Can I talk to Zoro first?"
"Of course, he doesn't know yet, right? But he's out there, very worried."
"Do you mind calling him for me?" you asked and saw him nod, leaving the small infirmary.
Your body still feeling heavy from fatigue, you sat down thinking about what words to use, how to bring up such an important subject. The door opened, but you lacked the courage to face the man who stopped in front of you. His silhouette on the ground began to become more real and closer, only then did you realize that he had bent down to be at your height.
"Ready to talk about this?" he whispered and adjusted his posture, remaining standing in front of you as your legs dangled off the bed.
"About what?" His eyes dropped from your face, went to your stomach and looked back at you. To his surprise, he found your orbs wide open in surprise. "How do you know?"
"I was looking for my material to clean my katanas, I missed the drawer and ended up opening yours. I found something strange there and asked Robin. As the drawer was yours, the test could only be yours." he listed with the most passable face in the world.
At the same time it lifted a burden from your conscience. You wanted to kill him for leaving you in agony and thinking of ways to bring up the subject.
"I understood." Your voice was calmer than you could have expected, but you could feel your eyes burning with pure anticipation - and hormones, which you would still discover how much they would affect you. "And what do we do now?"
"We continued sailing." Noticing your stress, one of his hands joined yours, on top of your belly. "And if it becomes too risky, beyond my ability to protect you both, we step aside for a while and then the three of us come back when it's safe."
You wanted to be grateful that he didn't freak out, you wanted to freak out yourself or even say "What do you mean we're step aside?", but the only things that came out of you were tears and sobs, as you clung to his torso.
"I-I thought you would hate me…" a lot more sobs, a lot more tears. "And you was going to leave me on some island."
"I would never do that."
"And I-I wanted to eat the salad Sanji makes."
"You can ask that idiot." Zoro gave his arm, he didn't understand much about pregnancies, but when he found out about the subject Robin explained some things about hormones and sensitivity, while Chopper, in the little time he had to call him, had warned him about the health conditions of the woman who he loved most in the world. Arguments with the cook could wait.
"Don't worry, sweetheart." He had to contain his own laughter hearing you say such nonsense. "I promise to take care of you both, here at Sunny or anywhere else."
Zoro couldn't define his promise about taking care of you better. The remaining months of pregnancy passed faster than you could imagine, despite you being left out of any and all activities. No fighting, no major exploration, no staying near stairs or high places. On the other hand, there was a type of exercise that your hormones craved - and consequently, disturbed the entire team.
After long hours of labor, you didn't know who was screaming more - you, in pain, Zoro desperately wanting Chopper to do something or Luffy thinking you were going to die, seeing the blood when he decided to peek into the room. When little Kuina was born, everyone, including you, discovered a new side of the swordsman. More careful, delicate, he held the little girl like the most precious thing in the entire universe. The three swords were no longer tied to him all the time, the insults directed at the cook became a little lighter when the little girl with green hair was nearby.
"Uncle Sanjiiiii" the girl, now five years old, ran and hummed towards the kitchen, clinging to the cook's leg. "Can you make 'rispy potatos for me?"
"Of course my dear, just give me a few minutes." you saw the cook laugh at her pronunciation, but he already knew the girl's favorite dish and no, they weren't the spicy ones.
"Why don't you ask me?" Zoro grumbled, crossing his arms and forcing you not to make fun of him and destroy the little authority he had - yes, little because the man had a soft heart towards his daughter. Not to mention the small jealousy he accumulated towards little Kuina.
"Uncle Sanji's are tastier." she stuck her tongue out at him, laughing with the cook afterwards.
"You know what? Let's see." Zoro marched to the edge of the sink and took the girl from the cook's legs. "You go with your mommy there while we go prepare something."
"Please don't kill yourselves." you murmured, picking the small girl up in your arms. "And you my love, what do you think about going to see Usopp fishing?"
"Yay!"
Zoro practically growled at Sanji and began to dedicate himself to his tasks. Boiled and roasted potatoes, crispy on the outside and soft on the inside in small pieces, was his daughter's favorite dish, it wasn't that difficult, was it? The presentation wasn't the best, at least not compared to Sanji's, but he watched the girl try a little of each dish. After thinking for a brief moment, she pulled out the plate made by Zoro and began to eat happily.
"This one! The dad ones!" She offered you a small potato, which you accepted. "Daddy knows how to make it too! Now I can eat 'rispys every day."
The flavor was good, but you knew that cooking wasn't your now husband's strong point. You reached out and took a small piece of Sanji's and understood what it was, seeing the blonde blink quickly at you, unnoticeable to the other two. In this case, your husband was now holding your daughter on his lap and spinning her around while she was thrilled that he would now have a new potato supplier.
"Uncle Captain Luffy will like it. Dad, shall we take some for him?" she asked showing with her little fingers the small amount she wanted to share and as always, Zoro immediately answered her.
"You know he's going to eat it all, don't you my dear?" He took the plate with his free hand and left with the girl on his lap.
"Thanks." you turned to Sanji, who smiled.
"I may not be a fan of the mosshead, but I wouldn't accept seeing little Kuina disappointed." he replied, removing the dishes that had accumulated on the table and tasting some of the potato he had made. "I just didn't add any seasoning."
"The shitty cook doesn't know how to cook." you both heard him cheering outside and Kuina right behind. "Shitty cook, shiiiity, shit."
"Zoro!"
"I think I already regret helping." the blonde grumbled, watching you follow the two and give him a good scolding.
Luffy
warnings: Fluff, angst with a happy ending. Luffy is a lot more mature than usual in this one, mention of F!Reader being hurt (nothing serious). Gear 5 Luffy (yes, I'm still excited about his latest appearance). The child's name is Ravi, which means sun.
The floor of the small room that the two of you shared seemed to be about to sink with all the turns you had already taken and you were amazed that the test in your hands hadn't yet broken from so many times that it bumped against your fingers in pure anxiety.
"Hey, did you call me?" Luffy appeared at the door noticing that you were alone. "Finally, just the two of us!" he vibrated, about to grab you.
Since the two of you had left Foosha Village, you hadn't let go of each other. You started as rivals when you were children in Dadan's house and it took you a few months after entering the sea to understand the true feelings you had for each other. It didn't take long for him to call you his own pirate queen and introduce you as his girlfriend.
"Hi! Are you around?" he waved in front of you, taking you away from the memories of a past that was already distant and so different from what you would face.
"Luffy, we need to talk." you tried to take a firmer stance.
"As your captain or as your boyfriend?" He remembered the little agreement the two of you had made, to separate matters to maintain order - more precisely so you wouldn't kill your boyfriend when he stole food from your plate and, consequently, be left without a captain too.
"I think both, I don't know." a frustrated sigh left you, shoulders carrying the immense burden of fear. "I was feeling strange a few days ago, I was late…"
"Late for what?"
"I'm pregnant!" you spat out the words quickly. If the man hadn't been paying attention, he would barely have caught it. "I'm pregnant, Luffy."
"This is…" he sat down on the bed, lowering his head. You had never touched on such a subject, it barely crossed your mind what his attitude would be.
"I understand it's a lot, I'm scared too…Luffy?"
His laughter took over the room as soon as your feet left the floor and he turned you around, pressing your body tightly against his arms.
"A baby! A mini me or a mini you!" he vibrated and noticed your expression close. "Don't you want a mini me?"
"Not that. Just don't…" your hand went to your mouth, containing the nausea. "No spins, for a while."
"Ah, sorry." he placed you on the ground, more carefully. "How do you feel?"
"A little scared, I guess." You laughed lightly when you saw him bend down to analyze your belly. He promptly put his ear to it, trying to hear something. "Babe, the baby is the size of a grape now, it's a little hard to hear."
"But I know he knows I'm here. A boy!" He placed a quick kiss on your skin. You wouldn't question the fact that he's sure the baby is a boy.
"I think this is the best treasure I could find." you murmured, hugging your boyfriend and allowing yourself to stay there for a few seconds.
"Love?" his voice called to you quietly. "Can I tell everyone?"
"For sure!"
"Guys!!!" He barely waited for you to respond and pulled you out the door, shouting for his friends. "Let's have another crewmate."
"What idea is this Luffy?" Nami cut off her own scolding when she saw him pointing at her belly.
"We're going to have a baby!" your fear ceased for a while when you saw everyone vibrate with the news.
The time you had to find your balance, you lost when you felt Nami and Robin hug you together, happy for the news. It didn't take long for your other companions to congratulate you on the new life that had emerged there.
"Luffy, we need to stop at an island soon so I can get some materials." Chopper warned and the captain immediately agreed.
"Sanji, can we have a feast to celebrate, please." Luffy asked for cook, being interrupted by you who joined him.
"Meat…" the word alone brought the flavor to your mouth. "I need to eat meat and a pie, please Sanji. It could even be meat pie." you asked, clinging to the cook, in the best Luffy style. Noticing the attitude, you soon resumed your posture. "I think I have a little craving… for meat."
It was undeniable that Luffy's genes were strong in the little child who was growing month by month. Restless, the unborn baby was always making you incessantly hungry and seemed to think your belly was made of elastic. Anyone who looked at you would find you with a small package of snacks in hand or grumbling to Luffy about why he had to insist on poking your belly when the baby was quiet, making the child start kicking again. Luffy still didn't seem to have much of an idea of what having a pregnant girlfriend was like. Occasionally he would steal your snacks or make plans that involved you, getting slapped by other companions.
"She's strong and I'm sure our son will be too." was his common response every time.
The contour of the bulge of your belly was already noticeable at six months of pregnancy and even so, you liked to follow Luffy and the others on each new island they stepped on. This time, you didn't expect that a little shopping break would turn into a horror so quickly. An enemy of Luffy had found you along with Nami and Sanji and even though the cook was capable of fighting, he couldn't hold off the man and his henchmen for so long.
Your head was small compared to the man's hand that held it. The instinct taking over your body made you bring your arms to your belly, protecting the being that was developing there, while he dragged you to where Luffy was. As you approached, for the first time in a while you saw terror in your beloved's eyes.
"I see there have been interesting changes." The man's slurred voice irritated you more than usual. He lifted you off the ground and gave your stomach a little poke. "As far as I know, I bet it's a little straw hat."
"Let. Her. Go." the threat implied in Luffy's voice was different than most times. You remembered seeing him like this when a tenryuubito decided to hit Hatchan, but still, he seemed to have more hate in him than you had ever witnessed. "I told you, keep your hands off her."
"As you wish."
Disdain was present in the man's every attitude and in the same way that he had barely used his strength to lift you, he did the same to throw you meters away. With the wind against your body and the screams of your friends like blurs passing by you, you cringed and waited for the impact that didn't come. Instead, you felt something wrap around you and your body land against something soft.
When you opened your eyes, you found Luffy holding you, putting you on your feet even though he didn't let go.
"You're okay, you're alive, you're okay…" the words came out of his mouth like a mantra. It was like seeing relief and fear walking side by side.
As soon as his hands released you, you felt yourself staggering, being supported by someone behind you. Luffy's hands held your face delicately as if a breath could take you away. He took off his straw hat and placed it on you and one of his hands rested on your belly, feeling the agitation under your skin, which seemed to bring the lucidity he needed.
"Jinbe, take her back to the ship." Luffy didn't bother to look at his companion who had just approached, his eyes roamed your face in search of any discomfort. The hand that remained on your face wiped away a small tear that insisted on falling. "Take Chopper with you, get all the tests possible."
"I am fine." you tried to reassure him, seeing that your words had been in vain. "Baby, we're both fine."
"Zoro, protect them." Luffy asked and only then did you realize it was the swordsman supporting you. "Don't let anyone get close to them. Don't let anyone lay a hand on my girl and my son."
"Okay. Jinbe, you carry her. Chopper, stay alert too, but your priority is to get to the ship with the two of them." the mate gave the orders and before your feet left the ground, you felt Luffy place a quick kiss on the small gap between your forehead and the straw hat.
"Those who are left, don't let any of his idiots get out of here. I'm going to finish that bastard off." the last glimpse you saw of Luffy was of his hair turning white.
Something changed that day. The baby was fine, you were fine - enough for Zoro to restrain you and prevent you from returning to the battlefield. Lying on your bed, you curled up again, this time wracked with worries about your captain and boyfriend. Using the straw hat as your companion, you allowed yourself to close your eyes and wait. The sun was already gone when you woke up from your brief nap to feel arms squeeze you tightly.
"Lu?" you turned around and found him smiling, even if a little lighter than usual. Some scratches on the face, but apparently fine.
He took your lips voraciously, capturing them and holding them to his. Your hands soon tangled in the dark strands of his hair and gave him space to fit around your legs, but Luffy moved away.
"Chopper said you're okay, just scared, but you need to rest so our son can be okay too." the captain slid on the bed, until his face was aligned with your belly.
Luffy lifted the cloth that hid your skin and covered your belly with kisses, in silence. Your hands, which previously sought to get tangled in his hair, opted for a light caress.
"I promised to protect you two and today…"
"Today you protected us, love." you interrupted before he even considered finishing the thought. Taking one of his hands, you led him to where the child was kicking. "And someone agrees with me."
From that day on, you saw Luffy change and consequently, you did too. He no longer teased you about your strange diet and didn't even make jokes about the snoring you started to have every night or because you looked like a cuddly ball - except when he, with the help of Usopp and Chopper - tied a watermelon to his belly. and pretended to be you at the end of the pregnancy. Now the words you had said to him "I think this is the best treasure I could find" made more sense to him.
It was early morning when little Ravi was born. The sea water was more crystal clear than usual and your body was sweating cold even though the night was hot when the first contractions hit and lasted throughout the morning. Chopper had chosen Robin and Nami as assistants while Luffy remained there by your side, using the power of the fruit to avoid feeling the strong grip of your hand against him.
Along with the first rays of the morning sun, Ravi came into the world and illuminated Luffy's face. As soon as the boy stopped crying in his father's lap, it was like watching two long-lost friends reunite after so much waiting, Luffy didn't know that he had been waiting for this his whole life and now he knew that he would never be able to stay away from the boy. In a way, it reminded you of the way little Luffy looked at Ace with admiration when they were still children.
He took the feeling seriously since little Ravi became his father's shadow and Luffy didn't make much of a point of preventing the boy from doing something wrong.
"Luffy!" you screamed as you saw him about to throw the two year old into the air.
"But he likes it."
"Sun…Ravi." the little one mumbled a few things.
"See? He wants to reach the sun." Luffy laughed, throwing the child at a much lower height than he intended at the beginning, eliciting a laugh from the baby. "Who wants to go again?"
"That's enough, you two." You stretched your arms to catch the baby, who promptly reached towards you. "It's time for someone to eat!"
"Yay! Let's eat some good food, kid." Luffy ignored you and headed to the kitchen. Before he reached the door, you took little Ravi from him.
"Just little Ravi." you corrected him and saw him mumble.
With each passing year, he became even more like his own father, which meant double work for you. At least at 8 years old, Ravi still had a little more calm than Luffy.
"Zoro!" he walked across the deck to the swordsman "My father said he was going fishing."
"That's good, it means fresh fish for lunch."
"The problem is that the fish caught him. He hasn't come back to the surface for a few minutes." Ravi said without much concern. "Can I go get him? I know how to swim, I don't think my daddy can."
"What the fuck Luffy!" Zoro dropped his swords and threw himself into the sea, attracting his other companions.
"Do not even think about it." Nami warned the boy who was about to reach for one of Zoro's swords.
"But Nami…" he mumbled, lacking the patience to argue. In the same way that she imputed fear to the father, it worked on the son.
"They're too big for your age." you saw him mumble just like Luffy and you had to hold back your laughter.
"Ravi!" Luffy's voice attracted the two of you to the end of the ship where he was, soaked and being scolded immensely by Zoro.
"Wow dad, what a big fish. All this for us?" the boy poked the little monster lying in the deck.
"That's right." Luffy laughed alongside the boy. You thought it was adorable that their laugh was identical.
"Hey Sanji, I'm hungry." they both shouted. Apparently, the appetite was also similar.
Ace
Warnings: fluff, a little angst until Ace finds out, Marco and F!Reader are best friends. Ace just wants to be loved by his baby. And for the record, I know Whitebeard would be a badass grandfather.
"Wait…" Marco began, analyzing your figure standing there biting his nails in front of him. "I thought you heard me when I explained it to you. You know, condoms, medicine, yoi."
"I heard, but maybe I forgot one…" his critical look made you change your tone. "Okay, I forgot to use protection a few times."
"Sit there already." he gave up and waited for you to curl up on the stretcher. Once you did, you watched him prepare a small kit.
"Why do you keep a pregnancy test kit?" You tried to take the object from his hand, but the doctor quickly dodged it.
"I don't keep it." Your eyes watched him concentrate and insert the needle into your arm, drawing a small amount of blood. "You've only been vomiting for two weeks and you've also been refusing to drink with alcohol. I'm a good doctor, yoi."
"And now?"
"Now…" he dripped the blood onto a small white spatula and placed it next to you on the stretcher. "We waited, for five minutes."
"All of this?"
"I've been waiting for you to bring this up for two weeks, don't complain." he replied.
"I needed Ace to be busy or out of here." you simply responded, turning your attention to the clock hanging next to one of the cabinets.
For the remaining minutes you stood there, legs shaking from side to side and watching a Marco as anxious as you. As soon as the hand reached the long-awaited minute, the two of you turned to the test together.
“Two risks…” you started.
"Positive. Looks like I've been promoted to uncle!" the man smiled, containing the feeling when he saw your face.
"I'm pregnant." the phrase still sounded strange to your ears, so sudden and unexpected. "I'm pregnant." you tested again, trying to improve your expression.
"You're pregnant! Now we need to do some more tests to make sure everything is ok. Dad will be happy when he hears about this." Marco placed the test results on a table away from the two of you. "I suggest an ultrasound, it would also be good to see some blood tests."
"My God, Marco, I'm pregnant!" A certain happiness crossed your expression, eliciting a laugh from your closest friend and brother.
"Now you're ready to jump…"
"You are pregnant?" you both turned as you heard a third voice join the room.
Ace looked at the two of you, waiting for some kind of justification, but at the same time it felt like the air had been knocked out of his lungs. You were still there, the same girl he had left to follow to a nearby island a few days ago, but now it seemed different. There was almost a glow emanating from you to his eyes.
"Ace, can we talk?" your voice reached his ears, but his mind was in a distant place.
Ace took a few steps back, moving away from the small infirmary and disappearing from your field of vision. You and the doctor looked at each other, surely this was the last reaction either of you would have thought of having.
"Are you feeling good?" Marco's voice pulled you back to reality. "Hey, look at me, yoi."
"I need to talk to him." You ignored your friend's question and went in search of your boyfriend.
From his reaction, you knew you had two options and to solve the first of them, you leaned over and saw that the Striker was still docked and with no one around, you immediately ran towards your room, finding the door closed.
Two knocks weren't enough to get his attention, so ignoring any possible chaotic scene you were going to encounter, you entered the room unceremoniously. The idea of finding the room on fire crossed your mind, but was soon dismissed when you found Ace sitting on the bed, his face buried in his hands.
"Babe, please." You asked, trying to keep your tone calmer - despite the internal desperation in him hating you. "Please talk to me."
"Y-You…" his dark irises met yours and only then did you realize that your beloved's eyes were full of water. "I'm going to be a father?"
"My love, I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner." Urgently, you moved closer, holding his face in your hands. "I know it's kind of scary, but I promise we'll figure it out."
"No, no. That's not the problem." he sniffled, not allowing any of the tears to flow. His hand threatened to touch your belly and withdrew. "What if I'm not a good father? What if this child doesn't love me."
"Think about how much I love you Ace, how much you love me." you stated almost obviously, gaining his attention. "What can come out of here, besides love?" your hands found your belly for the first time after the discovery.
Your body was enveloped in a tight hug, his face was almost buried in your belly, while you caressed his dark locks.
"I love you so much." He turned to you, noticing the slight discomfort, he moved his chin away from your stomach. "Oops, I'm sorry."
"It's okay…Ace!!" you screamed as you felt your body hit the bed, now with him fitting between your legs.
When it came to loving you, Ace could be as hot as the fire that emanated from him, strong as the waves that insisted on crashing against Moby Dick. Except that day. His lips touched yours gently, his body didn't press against yours, just covered it lightly. The delicate kisses went down to your belly, being placed as if they always belonged there. His lips found your face again, his smile hovered over yours.
"We need to talk to Marco." he began, interrupting himself to allow his kisses to cover your face again. "I need to know everything that's going on."
"Well, you know now."
"Not this." he grumbled. "We need exams, to know if everything is ok with you two, we also need to know what a baby needs. My god, are you going to give birth here at Moby Dick? We barely have room for the two of us…"
"Calm down, stay calm." you asked as you watched him spiral. With his support, you got back on your feet, holding out your hand for him to get up. "I have a better idea of what we can do."
You expected some commotion, of course. Maybe even a few tears. You didn't expect to see Ace crying like a baby when telling Whitebeard that he was going to be a grandfather and consequently, bringing some tears from your old man and several other colleagues also shedding tears. It was good to know that your little baby would arrive surrounded by love.
The months that followed the discovery were more peaceful than you imagined and even though for a long time you had insisted to your father that there were too many men on that ship, you couldn't complain about being so spoiled.
Want to eat something different? Thatch had it ready within minutes of you ordering. Marco walked like a shadow behind you and Ace - this by his own choice and by Whitebeard's direct order, since on one of the days you were sick, you had almost killed the three men of the heart. It was adorable to see how Ace worried about the mission that was getting closer every month. More than once, you found him in Whitebeard's room, asking for tips on what to do with the baby, how to help you at this time and how he could be a good father. The idea of not being loved by his own son haunted him more than you might expect. Everything seemed great, except one detail: the two of you couldn't agree on the name.
The little baby decided to arrive a few weeks ahead of schedule, which caused widespread chaos on the boat. Ace was having dinner with the other commanders when your scream reached his ears, along with Whitebeard's scream that echoed louder than any earthquake he had ever created, prompting them to speed up the preparations for the birth. Apparently, immense pain arose when you and your father were talking, which led you to stay in the ship's medical wing for hours. Your screams were heard throughout the ship while Ace served as your support point. The little boy was born and if you hadn't been feeling so weak, you would have laughed at the screams of joy coming from outside the room as they heard his cries.
"Ace?" you called to him, who held you even tighter in his arms. "I think I have an idea for the name. Can you see if we can use it?"
You whispered in his ear, making Marco curious. Ace delicately left behind you, who was holding the little baby and ignoring the blood that still stained his hands, he left the ship in search of a specific person. A few minutes later, you saw your beloved enter the room again, accompanied by your dad.
"Can I take that as a yes?" you saw Whitebeard bend down to get closer to the baby. "Meet your grandson, Alev Edward Newgate."
If you were spoiled during your pregnancy by Ace, you couldn't imagine what it would be like with little Alev. The child was never alone - or at least walking on two feet. There was always one of his uncles who could pick him up and carry him around the ship. Marco, who called himself the child's uncle and godfather even though he had not been baptized, had already lost count of how many times he had to redo the serums and medicines he applied to Whitebeard, since Alev - with his grandfather's permission, used the height difference to make it like a little personal slide.
And Ace, who was completely in love with the little piece of love you two had brought to the world, even when he messed up.
"Papa!" you and Ace, who were playing cards with other friends, heard the child scream and a laugh soon after. You already lowered your deck knowing that it anticipated some new prank.
"What is it Alev?" Ace spoke loudly so the boy could hear him and know where he was.
You don't know how your blood pressure didn't drop or how Ace didn't have a heart attack when he saw the child in your not-so-calm and serene days coming twirling a burning cloth in one hand and in the other a lighter that only God should know where he found.
"Look papa, I can control fire just like you!" the boy rolled the cloth and you prepared to move forward and take it from him, but you were anticipated by Ace, who placed his hand exactly where the cloth would hit Alev's freckled face.
"You can't do that, ever again." Ace raised his voice, taking the cloth that was half ash and the lighter from the boy. "You are crazy?"
"But daddy, I want to be like you."
"That doesn't mean setting everything on fire, my little flame." you warned and saw the child threaten to cry. Ace noticed immediately, regretting the little scream.
"I can't believe you're such a crybaby." Ace said in a teasing tone, throwing the boy over his shoulder. "Does your grandfather know about this? He won't like having a crybaby pirate at all."
"No daddy, I already stopped, I already stopped." you heard your son mumble in the distance, drying his tears. "I just wanted to be cool like you."
"My son, you are the coolest kid ever." Ace let Alev slip out of his arms and hugged him, stopping him from reaching the ground. "You know I love you very much, don't you?"
"I love you sooooo much more daddy."
#fiction#one piece#reader insert#no use of y/n#requests open#zoro x reader#zoro roronoa x reader#roronoa zoro x reader#monkey d. luffy#luffy x you#luffy x reader#portgas ace x reader#portgas d ace#portgas ace x you#ace x you#requested
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BUT HE NEEDS A WIFE | NAOYA ZEN'IN
Please read all warnings carefully, my fics cover dark topic matters, that may be upsetting to certain readers. Read at your own discretion.
Warnings: Dark. Arranged/Forced marriage. Non con touching. Violence against reader. Mentions of sex. Misogynistic views. Degrading views. Submissive reader. Abusive relationship. Forced pregnancy. Non con. Dub con. 18+
A/N: I feel like the character is a warning in itself. But of course I had to pick this one, out of all the characters in JJK.
AS ALWAYS MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
MASTER LIST HERE
-
When your parents told you of your engagement to Haru, you had been hesitant.
You knew it was an honour to marry someone so high up in the Zen’in clan but you had remembered Haru from your teenage years, or more so his closest companion, Naoya Zen’in.
Naoya had always tormented you growing up, spitting about how a weak woman like you should know your place. He even once forced his friends to hold you three steps behind him as he paraded you through the school.
Where a woman should be, he had chuckled darkly.
It was no surprise he had turned out the way he did.
Since you had known him, people around him had been feeding him the belief he’d be head of the Zen’in clan one day. No wonder he constantly felt entitled and put himself above everybody else. But his arrogance when it came to women was something else, something that had bile creeping up your throat every time someone even uttered his name.
You had never understood why girls had thrown themselves his way, knowing they’d be discarded like a used toy the next day.
Even your childhood best friend had fawned over him, fluttering her eyelashes and bowing her head like an obedient servant every time he walked her way. For years he had never even batted an eye her way, completely ignoring her existence.
Until he had exhausted his options and finally his line of vision was turning in her direction. Or that’s at least what you believed.
It was only days after you were cradling her form in your lap, her tears soaking your legs as you brushed her hair out of her face.
The sight had sent you into an out of mind craze because days later you found yourself completely alone as you confronted him about it.
At first he had laughed when he saw you storming over his way, even whistling your way. Only for his eyes to narrow at you when you spat your vicious words at him, hand wrapping around your throat before you could finish.
“Anyone would be grateful to be even touched by me,” he hissed, holding you against the wall.
You had wheezed his name, fingernails clawing at his hand. But his grip only tightened, as he glared at you.
“It’s a fucking honour.” He was seething as he spoke the words, a rage pouring off of him that you had never seen before. One that you’d hoped you’d never see again.
With your tears you begged for your life, unable to speak with his hands constraining your neck.
You didn’t know why he let go of you, letting you drop to the floor below him. But he had, giving you once last disgusted look before he walked away.
Even in your fear you had been defiant, the words falling from your lips before you could stop them.
“I fear for the woman who ends up marrying you.”
Naoya had simply rolled his eyes at your words, nostrils flaring slightly but he never responded.
Even though Haru hadn’t been there to witness that day, he had still been friends with Naoya for so long. By association you believed him to be an awful person and the thought of a marriage with someone like that, terrified you to the core.
But Haru had changed since then.
He was gentle and doting, reassuring you with every day you spent together that he would be a good husband. Nothing he did made you believe he could be lying and so each night when he gently brushed his lips with yours before you settled into bed together, you opened your mind to the idea of it. Until it was truly all you believed.
-
Words couldn’t reach your lips when you had been told, body only freezing in your seat as your parents had blabbered on to you and Haru.
It’s an honour, you heard your father say. The head of the Zen’in clan blessing our daughter’s marriage is an honour.
Luckily Haru spoke for you, hand grabbing yours as he squeezed it gently.
Of course we’d be honoured to have him in our home. Haru had told your parents. Me and Naoya used to be such good friends back in the day
Your gaze lifted to look at him then, body trembling beside him as you caught his wide smile.
There was a sickening feeling in the pit of your stomach when you returned home that day. One that you were unable to shake even as the day drew closer and your fiancé tried so hard to reassure you it’d be okay.
“He won’t bless our marriage,” you had told Haru, eyes glazed over with tears. “I know it.”
Haru only shook his head, not taking your fear seriously. “Relax-”
“I know him.” Your hands gripped onto his shirt, pleading with him to listen. “He’ll do it out of spite. He hates me.”
“It’s been years, Y/N.”
You turned away, trying to steady your shaky breaths as you listened to your words. You really wanted to believe him, to think that everything would be okay. But you had both known a different person growing up, while he had been your biggest tormentor, he had been one of Haru’s closest friends.
Haru had of course had no reason to believe that Naoya hated you so much, that he wouldn’t bless your marriage just because he felt like it.
But that tightening feeling in your stomach told you differently. Even when you desperately craved to not want to believe it.
“It will only be for a few hours,” Haru reassured you, his hand rubbing into your shoulders.
“A few hours,” you repeated, taking a shaky breath.
You felt Haru shift behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he held you close. “You know he’s trying to find a wife?”
You giggled a bit at that, a small smile perking up on your lips that your fiancé seemed to share with you, “I pray for the woman who has to marry him.”
“So do I,” he laughed with you.
There was a knock on the door, the tension rising in your body again.
“Must be him,” Haru stated, eyes turning towards the direction of the door. “It’ll be okay.”
Haru tried to reassure you with a peck to your cheek but your body was already quivering with nerves, unable to shake the uneasy feeling.
A feeling that only grew as you heard his horrifying familiar voice.
-
Mandatory duties like this were a chore for Naoya.
Who cared whether he approved of someone’s marriage or not?
However, when he had seen your name on the papers alongside Haru’s, he had almost choked on the tea he had been sipping.
How had Haru found himself in such an unfortunate situation to be engaged to you?
Someone as disobedient as you, surely there must have been a mistake in what he was seeing. He remembered your last conversation years ago like a sour taste in his mouth that he just couldn’t quite get rid of.
You had the nerve to touch him, to look into his eyes as if you were his equal- No, not even that, you had seen yourself better than him.
Naoya had never shaken the rage at that, blood still boiling at the memory.
He had been merciful that day.
Something he wouldn’t be today, he had told himself as Haru greeted him at your front door.
“Where is she then?” Naoya asked, making sure his voice carried through your small home.
He wanted you to know he was there. Whichever room you were hiding in, he wanted you to be quivering at his arrival.
“Where’s your beautiful fiancé?”
He hadn’t expected you to step through a door in the hallway, joining your husband’s side. What was most surprising was when you bowed to him, not even uttering a word as you greeted him in the proper way.
His eyes scanned your form, running over you in your attire and admiring the way your yukata fit your body so well.
“Would you finish preparing the tea for us?” Haru asked you, gently pushing you back in the direction you came.
You bowed your head to him before returning back to the kitchen.
He couldn’t help but watch your frame as it disappeared into another room. He used to tease you about your wider hips, only now he was biting back the words as his cock twitched at the sight of them.
“What have you done to her?” There was humour laced in Naoya’s tone but all that met his eyes was a deep hunger. One that he was sure his old friend caught on to.
“She’s going to be a great wife,” Haru commented, giving Naoya a small smile before he directed him to another room. “Please, let's get you comfortable.”
Conversation flowed between him and Haru easily as if time had never passed. The only time his mind seemed to slip away from the conversation was when you entered the room, tray in hand as you quietly placed it on the table in front of them.
It’s also when he noticed how your delicate hands were trembling as they poured his tea, his lips curling up into a dark grin. There was something satisfying about seeing you so scared to be around him, especially after all these years.
“Thank you, Y/N,” Haru said to you as he took his tea from your hand, pulling you to sit beside him.
He looked at Naoya then, eyes squinting for a second as he placed an arm over your shoulders. Naoya knew that look, he had seen it on so many men before when their wives would sneak him sneaky glances.
Haru was acting possessive and Naoya actually thought it was cute.
“Such an obedient wife you have there,” Naoya spoke, only to tut at himself as he caught his words. “Sorry, I meant fiancé. You still need my blessing before that.”
You looked at him then, eyes glazed over, only for a second before your gaze returned to your hands.
There you are, he thought.
He saw the fear that seeped into your eyes at his words.
“You know Haru there’s a position that really needs filling,” Naoya changed the conversation. “It would get you more money than whatever you’re making now. Help you better provide for your future wife.”
“If you see me fit for the job,” Haru said, eyes widening with hope at his words.
Naoya almost felt pity for him.
-
Two hours in and you were excusing yourself to the kitchen, hand covering your mouth as you muffled your gasps of breath.
You didn’t understand how Haru could be so blind, not even noticing the sadistic grin on Naoya’s face as he toyed with the pair of you. He knew he had all the control, practically holding it over your heads like the dogs he thought you were.
Naoya was quiet as he crept behind you, so quiet you didn’t even notice him until his hands were playing with your hair.
You gasped at the touch but didn’t dare to move as he trapped you between his body and cabinet in front of you.
“There’s a good girl,” Naoya whispered, brushing your hair over your shoulder. You could feel his breath fan against your skin as he inched closer. “You are such a submissive thing, aren’t you?”
You swallowed, pushing yourself further into the cabinet in hopes to escape his grasp.
“All the lessons when we were teenagers really seemed to seep in, didn’t they?” He asked but you knew he didn’t really want a response. “I bet you’re even saving yourself for the big day.”
You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of an answer but he could see it in your heated glare through the reflection of the window.
“You are.” He sniffed your neck, inhaling your scent as he pressed himself right up against you. “So pure, Y/N. You’re going to be such a great wife.”
You could feel every bit of him as he pressed his body against yours and you were horrified at the feel of his hardness rubbing against your back.
You bit on your lip to keep any noise buried, knowing he was already getting off on how docile you were being. You didn’t need him to get off on your fear as well.
At the sound of Haru’s footsteps coming down the stairs, he backed away but not far enough from your liking.
“I should be going to see your parents now, Y/N,” Naoya spoke to you before he turned to Haru, patting him on his shoulder. “I’ll keep in touch with you about the job as well, Haru.”
Haru saw him out, walking back to you with the biggest grin as he tried to cup your face.
You flinched away, turning back to the cleaning you had started.
“You heard him,” Haru said, wrapping his arms around you. “We are going to be fine.”
You wanted to scream at him, unable to understand how he just couldn’t see what you saw.
But you didn’t say anything, only biting at your bottom lip to keep your tears at bay as you hugged him back, knowing it would probably be the last time.
-
There was no surprise on your face when your parents broke the news to you.
Not until they had explained why Naoya hadn’t approved of your engagement.
You wanted to plead with your parents for them to take it back, to not allow you to go through with this.
But you knew the shame that it’d bring them and as much as it haunted you, it was something you couldn’t possibly do to them. There was nothing they could probably do anyway, who were they to refuse the head of the Zen’in clan.
You weren’t allowed to see Haru after that, Naoya had made that clear to your parents.
You had spent most of your days in your childhood room at home, not wanting your parents to catch on how truly sick this made you. You didn’t want to put that guilt on them, for them to learn how truly unhappy you would be with the match.
Even when you reached your wedding day and you felt completely numb to the core, you dragged yourself out of bed with a smile.
Everyone you knew attended the ceremony, the whole of the Zen’in clan being in attendance. Even your Haru standing in the second row.
You couldn’t even meet any of their eyes, gaze being glued to the floor.
For the first time in your life you found some solace in Naoya’s eyes, even if it was only to help you draw your attention to something other than the hundreds of other people watching.
But the way he was smiling at you, had you fighting with yourself to not turn away.
It was as if he was revelling in victory for a game you hadn’t even realised you both had been playing.
Once the ceremony was over, Naoya paraded you around like a doll, showing you to anyone and everyone that would stop to watch. People from your teenage years ogled their eyes at you in disbelief, clearly being shocked to see the pair of you being wed off.
It made as little sense to them as it did you.
Even as you sat next to him while you ate together, you still couldn’t piece together why he was doing this. It’s all you wanted to ask, still believing in your head that this was some sort of sick joke. That he’d eventually get bored and start laughing and this all would be over.
“Your parents served you well,” Naoya finally spoke to you, arm leaning over the back of your chairs.
You turned to him at this, not truly understanding what he was getting at.
“I’ll definitely make sure to thank them for bringing you up like this.” Naoya smirked, toying with his food on the table. “You’re going to be such a great wife.”
You were going to be sick, you were sure of it.
“You’ve barely touched your food,” he stated. “Something wrong?”
“No, I-” you swallowed, eyes flickering up to tables surrounding you. “It’s just nerves.”
In the sea of people you spotted him, looking back at you with a hollow stare.
Naoya’s eyes followed your line of sight, a wicked smile touching his lips as he noticed.
You felt him lean into your side, lips grazing your ear as he whispered, “As wife to the head of the Zen’in clan you must sever all notions of ever having a different life in your mind.”
You could see Haru’s face drop and it was almost like he couldn’t bear to watch you anymore, turning away.
You shuddered as Naoya’s next words brushed against your neck.
“You belong to the clan now and to me.”
He pressed a kiss under your ear, before returning to his meal.
“Remember that.”
-
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