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pinksturniolo · 29 days

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Biggest Hater - Part One

Matt Sturniolo x Fem Reader

Part 1 of 2

Alternate version of my Chris fic: Biggest Fan

Requested by the baddest! @muwapsturniolo

Summary: You just don’t get the hype of the Sturniolo Triplets like almost every girl your age does. It probably has a lot to do with the fact that you went to high school with them and Matt Sturniolo particularly, got on your nerves more than anyone you thought ever could. In fact, it has everything to do with that. And when you run into him a couple years later, at the peak of their fame, your feelings haven’t changed one bit. No matter how attractive you find him.

Content warnings: smut, fingering, thigh riding, car sex, loss of reader's virginity, mean!matt (even tho he’s an angel irl), ANGST AF, enemies to lovers trope (somewhat?), slightly toxic, weed smoking

disclaimer: matt and reader are both of age in the prom flashback. also, dont drive under the influence if that wasnt already obvious lol

word count: 4,325

Hate is a strong word. What does it really mean to hate someone? It’s a powerful human emotion that many say is dangerously close to the emotion of love. To feel so strongly about someone, that every time you see them or hear their name it evokes a strong reaction in you, can cause your heart to race in your chest, and your hands to shake.

That’s how you felt every time you saw or heard of Matt. Whenever you visit your family home in Somerville, that’s practically all you hear people talk about. How famous he and his brothers are now and how successful they’ve become. Literally every girl you know has a crush on them. Even your roommate, Stephanie. It gives you a migraine how much people talk about them.

You couldn’t help how much of a hater you were. It wasn’t like you to be like this, you were usually supportive of mostly everyone, especially people you knew or grew up with. You went to high school with the triplets, so you had the privilege firsthand to experience how they were before their YouTube fame.

Chris was funny, always making jokes in class and very talkative. You didn’t mind him as much, during the few interactions you had with him, you found him to be sweet and he was known as kind of a player, but you never saw or heard of him treating a girl with disrespect.

Nick was outspoken and opiniated which you appreciated, and always nice to everyone. You actually got along with him really well, usually pairing up with him for projects in the biology class you two had together. He even invited you over to his house to hang out a couple times, but you politely declined. You adored him but there was one person you just could not be around that would be there.

Matt. He got on your last nerve like no other. He had the worst attitude, and it bothered the fuck out of you. He was pretty quiet, and he often missed school. But the times you were around him, he gave you the dirtiest looks and rolled his eyes whenever you spoke. Why? You had no clue. He was also an instigator, constantly pitting you against Chris and Nick for no reason, which they usually ignored but it pissed you off, nonetheless. There was just something about him that fueled rage in you like you’ve never felt. And it did not help that you were so goddamn attracted to him.

Let’s be honest, all that tension and angst is bound to create a type of energy that just can’t be ignored. Even if it’s caused by someone you can’t stand.

Then, came senior prom. The events of that night and what happened after, forever solidified your hateful feelings towards him.

You had gone with separate dates of course, but somehow ended up alone together by the end of the night. You had a suspicion that your friends and his brothers had something to do with it, but you sat in awkward silence and moping next to him on the bleachers as the rest of your senior class danced on the gym floor.

Large social events like this were not your cup of tea and neither for Matt. You rest your chin in your hand as you lean on your knees, watching your date dance like an idiot. He was your ride home and you were starting to get fed up, tempted to call your parents to pick you up or even order an Uber.

“What an idiot.” Matt says to you, his eyes also on your date.

You scoff, “Yeah, tell me about it.”

“I mean, I knew you were a loser, but I didn’t think you were that desperate.”

You turn to glare at him. “I don’t see your pathetic date anywhere.”

“She was talking too much for my liking.”

“Wow, what a gentleman you are.” You shake your head, eyeing his outfit up and down. “Looks like you didn’t put much effort into your appearance either, so she must not be that special.”

He smirks at your response, his eyes on your body as well. “I wouldn’t be saying anything with that tacky dress you have on.”

You hit him on the arm, anger filling you from his words. “You’re such a dick.”

“Ow!” Matt rubs his arm, his face scrunched up in pain. “Now I see why your date left you, you really are a brat.”

You huff in annoyance, beginning to wonder why you were even sitting here next to him. You stand up, picking your dress up from around your feet so you can step down the bleachers.

“Wait, hold on.” Matt says suddenly, wrapping his hand around your wrist to stop you from leaving.

You stop and look at him, your eyebrows raised in expectation. His fingertips burn into you and his eyes somewhat soften when you look into them.

“Fuck- my bad. I’ll stop, I promise.” he says, stopping you from leaving.

You’re surprised at his words and his fingers removed from around your wrist, when he sees that you’re not leaving, standing over him. He avoids eye contact with you while you stare at the side of his face, his hands now stuffed in the pockets of his suit pants.

His hair is longer now than it usually was, a middle part that showed more of his face and he wore a pair of earrings that you secretly liked. Despite your earlier comment, you also thought the suit looked really good on him. Matt had always had a good sense of fashion, but if anyone asked you, you would say his wardrobe is basic and unattractive.

“You better have a good reason for me to stay Matt because I’m starting to get tired and I just wanna go lay in my bed.” You tell him, waiting for him to say something, your arms crossed.

It’s then that he pulls a joint from his pocket, a mischievous look on his face.

“You can get stoned with me and relax for once in your life.” He says and you hesitate for a second before he stands up, and starts walking down the bleachers, motioning for you to follow.

You don’t know why, but your feet seem to have a mind of their own as you follow him, out of the gym and around the corner of the school. At this point you really had nothing better to do, even if it meant getting high with Matt.

He leads you to the football field across from the gym to the press box at the top of the stadium. You both sit inside, smoke starting to fill the small room as you and Matt pass the joint back and forth until it’s finished.

You both are actually engaged in a conversation that isn’t an argument for once and you find yourself giggling with him. Whether it’s because of the weed or because it’s prom night, you’re not sure.

You look at your phone, the time now almost midnight. “I should probably head home.” You say, getting ready to call your parents.

“Do you have a curfew?” Matt asks, a look on his face like he’s hoping you’ll say no.

“Not really…” you answer, setting your phone back down on your lap.

“Wanna go for a drive?”

✿

Matt watches with a smile as you as you catch your breath, laughing hysterically from his spot-on impression of Nick when he’s angry. You wipe the tears from your eyes, having laughed so hard you were crying. Your hair has fallen from the perfect curls you took extra time on earlier, the strap of your dress sliding down your left shoulder.

He realizes you have a nice laugh, not hearing it often since you’re always pissed off around him. You look beautiful, even more than you usually do, especially like this. The moonlight shines on your skin and he can’t help but stare at you until you catch him, and he looks away shyly, his heart starting to pound in his chest.

You’ve both been sitting here for the past 30 minutes, parked at the now empty neighborhood playground by your house. Matt had driven around for a while, even stopped to get McDonald’s, before he decided the night wasn’t over just yet and lit up another joint after your highs came down.

Now you both were absolutely shitfaced, having the most fun you’ve had in a while. It’s surprising how much you and Matt actually get along under the influence, probably because it calmed you both down enough to forget your stubborn tempers and just enjoy good conversation and laughter.

“Why didn’t you ever come hang out when Nick invited you over? I’m having a blast right now.” Matt says, leaning his seat back a little to relax.

“I think you already know that answer.” You reply, and your eyes trail down his body and the way it looks as he leans back. He removed his suit jacket when you guys were in the drive thru earlier, and the sleeves of his white dress shirt are rolled up, his tie loose around his neck.

“Come on, you can’t really hate me that much can you?”

You sigh, looking away from him and out the window. Of course, he’s oblivious to how much he would actually bother you.

“Are you really that clueless?” You ask and look back at him. His eyes are glazed over and slightly red but incredibly blue.

“When it comes to you… yes.”

You scoff and roll your eyes, ignoring his response while brushing a hand through your hair and picking it up off the back of your neck. “God, its hot in here.” You say and he watches as you move your hair and lean your head to the side, your lips parted. Your slender neck looks inviting, and he can see your pulse jump.

He rolls the windows down slightly, letting most of the weed smoke filter out. His eyes are still on your face and when you return his gaze, this time, he doesn’t shy away.

“What?” You ask, the look on his face makes you nervous. He licks his lips as he looks back and forth between your eyes and your mouth, his jaw clenching.

The smoke has cleared but the air feels incredibly tense now as you stare back. Soft music plays on the radio and the wind blows through the trees outside. You feel like you’ve been transported to an alternate reality, the turn this night has taken starting to not feel real.

“Has anyone ever kissed you before?” Matt finally speaks, his voice barely above a whisper.

You feel your face heat in embarrassment at his question. “Uh… n-no.”

You internally cringe at the way you stutter, and the corners of his lips raise slightly at the flustered look on your face.

His hand comes up to your jaw, his thumb lightly brushing over your bottom lip. “Can I be your first?”

It’s no question that Matt has always found you attractive, even though he’s never voiced his thoughts to anyone about it. The problem is, he doesn't like most people and when it came to you, he just couldn’t swallow his pride enough to let his guard down. It turns out you two are extremely similar and it made you butt heads constantly. So, instead of letting himself let someone in for once, he chose to dislike you and it had always been easier that way.

But the way you look tonight, the infectious energy he’s getting from you now that he’s been alone with you for more than 5 minutes, it has him feeling something he’s never felt before.

Electric sparks crackle through you from his light touch on your lips and you almost open your mouth to taste him. But you’re still incredibly nervous. You haven’t had your first kiss yet, your first anything yet but all your thoughts can repeat is yes, yes, yes. Please be my first.

You nod and he leans over the middle console, his hand now firmly holding the side of your face, his fingertips sliding into your hair. Your heart threatens to go into cardiac arrest as he slowly presses his lips to yours, as if you might break like fine china.

But once your lips are connected, your nerves start to disappear and are replaced with feelings of excitement. They mold together almost perfectly, as he kisses your bottom lip and then your top one, his thumb stroking over your jaw. It feels incredibly sweet and tastes like sugar.

He pulls away slightly, his face still hovering over yours. You make eye contact and put your hands on his chest, your fingers grasping his shirt collar, afraid he might move away from you. “How’s that feel?” He breathes, his voice coming out in a rasp.

“Amazing...” You reply and he bites his bottom lip, his pants tightening from the look of pure want in your eyes. Before he can say anything, you kiss him again, this time with hunger and it feels like you’ve done it a million times before.

You expected your first kiss to be awkward, maybe even a little embarrassing. But this is nothing like that, your body heating and heart racing at the feeling of his wet, warm mouth against yours. He leads the kiss, both hands now on your face, his tongue sliding against yours.

It has your panties growing incredibly wet under your dress, and your breathing rapid as you grasp the tie around his neck, pulling it so he can get even closer than he already is. And then, he moans into your mouth and the sound has butterflies erupting inside you.

You decide you need more and push him back a little, disconnecting your lips. He starts to protest but then immediately stops when you climb over the middle and straddle him in the driver’s seat.

Luckily, the van is spacious and you’re not too uncomfortable as you sit on his lap, your dress riding up on your thighs. He places his hands on your hips as you kiss him again, gripping the silk harshly.

You can feel how hard he is under you, and he groans when you unknowingly grind against him, your body moving faster than your mind can think.

“Don’t do that.” He pants, catching his breath and stopping your hip movements. His eyes are closed, his eyebrows scrunched together as if he’s in pain. Your hands are on his broad shoulders, and they dip into his dress shirt through his loose collar, running your palms over his skin.

“What’s wrong? Does it hurt?” You ask and you move your hips again, this time a little slower. The feeling of his clothed dick against you has sparked a feeling of need in you that you’ve never felt.

He shakes his head, throwing it back against the headrest, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard. His grip slightly loosens on your hips but still tight on your dress as he allows you to grind down onto him. Your head falls into the crook of his neck as you let the pleasure of your movements take over.

He lets his eyes travel down to his crotch where there’s a large wet spot forming on his pants from your arousal. “Fuck…” He moans aloud and his dick throbs from the sight. He lifts your dress slightly and sees the outline of your lacy red underwear, his hands moving to grope your ass.

You’re panting against his neck and start to place soft kisses on his skin, eliciting more groaning from him. You reach your hand down to his belt, starting to unbuckle it.

“Y/N.” He says, stopping your hips firmly now. The tone in his voice makes you pull your head up and he’s trying to keep his resolve from completely slipping when he sees the way your eyes are blacked out in lust.

“I don’t want to do this if you’re not ready.” He says, searching your eyes for any hint of fear. He honestly didn’t expect an innocent kiss to turn into this.

You should’ve said no. You should’ve stopped it then and there, should’ve asked him to take you home.

Should’ve.

Could’ve.

Would’ve.

“Matt, I want this so bad right now. Please.” You whine, arousal clouding your mind and the feeling of your body on his is something you can’t refuse.

He gives in, his eyes on yours as he unbuckles his belt, and you lift slightly so he can pull his pants down just enough to the middle of his thighs. He guides you back down on him, this time so you sit around his left thigh.

You’re a little confused but he wraps his arms around your back, one of his hands tangling into the back of your hair as he holds you against him. “Just relax. Grind on me like you were doing earlier, baby. You were doing so good.” He instructs and the way he calls you baby has your heart fluttering in your chest.

He kisses you, and you do as he says, the feeling of his thigh tensing under you making your body heat with arousal again. You moan slightly, as you slide over him. He then pulls your panties to the side, so you’re bare against him, and the feeling has you both gasping.

“Oh… my god.” You breathe, failing to kiss him back as you shamelessly moan his name. You feel a strong need inside you, and you let your body move against him fluidly, your wetness coating his thigh.

Matt knows what he’s doing. He knows it’s your first time and he wants you to be comfortable. Granted, the minivan might not be the classiest place, but he’s enjoying it if you are. He wants you to know what it feels like to have an orgasm all on your own (besides the help of his thigh) before he’s inside you. Before he absolutely ruins you.

You’re whimpering now, your hips picking up the pace as you chase a different kind of high. He feels incredible and you want to feel embarrassed at the way you’re getting off on his thigh right now but all you can think of is how good it feels.

“Fuck, you’re so wet..” he groans, his own eyes closing in pleasure at the way your pussy feels, slippery and warm on him.

“Matt…” You whine, and he presses his forehead to yours, his hands on your lower back, helping you ride him. “I know baby, let go. Its okay.” He says softly and the coil that’s been building for the past 20 minutes since he kissed you, finally releases and warmth floods your body. You moan loudly and feel yourself leaking on his thigh, your hips slowing down.

You’re out of breath as your movements stop, your heart still racing. “So good, baby. You did so good.” He whispers and you can see and feel how hard he is in his boxers, as your hands brush over him. He grabs your wrists before you can continue.

“Nuh uh.” He simply hums and lifts you up slightly. “Get in the back.”

The dominant tone in his voice causes butterflies again as you climb off him and into the back seat, laying down. He follows shortly after, unbuttoning his shirt so it’s completely open now and pulls his pants all the way off. He puts one arm above your head as he hovers over you, a dark look in his eyes.

His soft hand moves up your thigh, goosebumps erupting across your skin, and he pushes your dress up to your waist. Your red panties are stilled pulled to the side, the wetness from your previous orgasm coating you. He bites his lip, running his fingers through your folds. You gasp from the feeling, still a little sensitive from earlier.

“Let me know if you need me to stop, okay?” He says and you nod, gripping onto his bicep.

He spreads your legs a little further, your knees against his waist and pushes a single fingertip inside you, slowly easing his finger in. There’s a little discomfort at first but it’s quickly replaced with pleasure when he starts pumping it in and out of you. He adds another finger, and you whimper at the feeling, this being completely different from when you were riding his thigh.

“You okay?” he asks, continuing to slide his fingers in you. “God, yes.” You moan, closing your eyes to the feeling. He smirks at your response and the sound of your wetness has him buzzing with arousal. He’s been incredibly attentive to you and patient, and his boxers are suffocating his achingly hard cock.

Your hips start to buck, as you crave more, his fingers starting to hit a spongy spot in your walls, a slow fire spreading within you. He removes his fingers completely, pushing your hips down.

You pout at the loss of contact, and he chuckles, pulling himself out of his boxers. “Not yet, sweetheart. Be patient for me.” He says and your eyes travel down to where he spreads your arousal from his fingers on his cock, stroking a few times to coat it.

You heard he was big but had assumed they were just silly rumors. You were so wrong.

You continue to stare, and he guides himself to your entrance, his hand now forcing your head up to look at him. “Eyes up here, baby.” He says, a smug smirk on his face.

He places a hand on your waist, his other hand still against the window above you as he pushes the tip into you. It’s a little overwhelming, and you’re not sure how he’s even going to fit all of it in you, but his touch relaxes you as he rubs soothingly over your hip, going as slowly as he can.

He’s halfway in, the burning already starting to disappear as he soon eases all the way into you, and your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head as you clench around him, the feeling of him snug in your walls.

“So fucking tight…” He groans, his jaw clenched and squeezes a little harsher on your hip. He leans down closer to you, his arm coming to rest next to your head. He stays still inside you, letting you adjust.

“Matt.” You moan, your hands moving into his hair, tugging at the roots.

“Yes baby? You feel alright?” He checks.

“Yes. Please move.” You respond and he obeys your words gladly, pulling out almost all the way only to bury himself inside again. He makes slow, deep thrusts into you and the feeling has your head swimming, your thighs clenching around him, and your jaw dropped open slightly.

The feeling is indescribable, and he struggles to not cum inside you after only the first sixty seconds. That’s how good you feel around him, soaking wet and so tight.

The windows of the van are completely fogged, the air thick and hot. Your moans and whimpers are swallowed as he kisses you, his thrusts slowly picking up in pace. You both are speechless and there’s an unspoken realization between the two of you as your bodies move together in sync, your lips attached, breathing in each other’s air. The outside world has drifted away, the sweet bubble of pleasure and desire encasing you two.

“Matt.. I’m gonna cum again..” You warn, feeling the release build and build, your legs starting to shake.

“I know, Y/N. I want you to, please. Cum for me.” He responds and the movements of hips against yours are uneven now, his own release slowly crumbling. You cry out as you orgasm for the second time tonight, your walls clenching around him. He’s panting your name as he releases his seed into you at the same time, his fingertips leaving bruises on your hip.

“So fucking proud of you.” He murmurs, an exhausted smile on his face.

Mind shattering. Body numbing. Earth quaking, unforgettable sex. Nothing compared to it.

These are the memories flooding your mind as you sit on the leather couch, a cold drink in your hand, and your friend next to you, leaning over to talk into your ear over the loud music of the party. “No fucking way. Are you seeing what I’m seeing right now?” She says and you take a sip of your drink, nodding your head. “Yup.”

Matt stands at the other side of the large living room, laughing with Chris and Nick and a few other people. He hasn’t noticed you yet, but as you keep your eyes on him, it’s as if he can feel you staring. He turns his head in your direction and once he makes eye contact with you, his smile falls, and for a second, he almost looks upset, his eyes lingering on you.

And then he looks away, whispering something to Chris and walks off, towards the hallway.

Of course, he would run away as soon as he saw you. He’s pathetic.

In fact, you feel pathetic thinking you wouldn’t run into him here in Boston, his hometown. At a party one of your mutual friends is throwing no less. But still, you were hoping, no, praying that the one time you decide to leave your house and socialize, you wouldn’t see him.

And now your heart feels like it’s going to fall out of your ass, your head filled with old feelings you can’t escape. You hadn’t talked to Matt since that night, two years ago. You hadn’t even seen him since graduation. You avoided any video or clip of him that would come across your phone. You couldn’t bear to look at him.

You fucking hated Matthew Sturniolo. For many, many good reasons.

a/n: please dont come at me for making matt so mean in this one!! 😔 and if this flops ill be so sad lol i hope yall like it so far

taglist <3: (if you want to be added/taken off, reply to this post or comment on my masterlist. and if you weren't mentioned, it wouldnt let me tag u :/)

@sturniolopepsi @tillies33ssss @whicked-hazlatwhore @riasturns @christhopersturniolo @junnniiieee07 @sturnsjtop @seahorsie11 @inveigledvex @honestlyjb @mattslolita @certifiednatelover @glassesmattsbae @eryismum @sturncakez @sturnioloco @wh0resstuff @ribread03 @sturniololoco @75sturn

#Spotify #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fanfic

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neoplatinum · 1 month

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i choose you - part 3 | minatozaki sana

summary: a darkness in sana's past comes back into light

pairing: heiress!sana x reader

themes: blood, murder, gore, knives, arranged marriage au, fluff, angst, tension, lots of elitism, conglomerate power-hungry side characters, implied sex, misamo!

wc: 5.9k

(series masterlist)

you stare at her as she stares at you back. the eyes of a woman who's held her domain for decades, bursting in power through the new age of technology. her eyes are still as sharp as ever, despite her age. it's how she's kept her power for so long.

long brushes of the tea cup lid against the cup, nursing a cup of sencha.

"tell me, how devoted are you to the mintaozaki clan." she continues to swirl the tea in the porcelain cup. her eyes never leaving yours.

you stare at her, but also to take a glance at the elders of the minatozaki clan all staring at you. strong eyes and the crest pinned to their delicate fabrics.

momo and mina are sat on the second row of chairs lining the edges of the room. various council advisors and distant family members sat in the back corners as well.

"i would lay my life on the line for the minatozakis." she stops her swirling. the gentle drop of the lid back onto the cup as she sets it down next to her.

with the flick of her wrist, a man shuffles towards, head bowed as he hands her a folder. the sound of papers being flipped through while you keep your eyes trained on the floor.

all around are eyes peering in, a dare. they stare, daring you to make any sign of weakness, you keep your eyes unwavering as you wait. it's so quiet that an outsider would expect no one in this room. you can even hear the faint sound of wind outside.

"let me rephrase. would you survive for the minatozaki clan." she places the paper down. eyes instantly back on you.

"until my last dying breath. i would utter it for the minatozaki name." you say, staring at her with intensity of a thousand flames. you think of sana, of haruto and hanako. the person you have become since being part of the family.

the matriach leans back into her chair. and you stare, for any sign of emotion. the way her eyes remain neutral and unchanging, hands comfortably laying on her lap. her feet tucked together and that large pendant on her neck.

"understood." another flick of the wrist. a different man walks forward, head bowed just like the last.

his head low as he presents a tanto with both hands. the six inch double edged blade. a long dagger, sheathed in dark brown wooden scabbard.

lined with the proud name of the minatozaki clan in hiragana, etched into the layered metal. she holds it within her palms, unsheathing it and holding it out.

"do you know of the etching tradition?" she says as she feels for the blade, the tip piercing enough of her skin to let out a drip of blood. she wraps it into a cloth as she goes back to staring at you.

"no, i do not." you've never even heard of the tradition to begin with. eyeing sana from the corner of your eye but she keeps her eyes focused on her mother.

"present." and then the cacophony of hands folding up their arm sleeves, and the turning of their forearm towards the matriarch, you can barely see it, but it's there. the scarred skin in the symbol of the minatozaki crest, just in the center of everyone's right forearm.

a glance to your right, and you notice it on sana's forearm, it's always been there. even in the curiosity you never asked, always wondering how she had a perfect scarring of her family name. the way it stretches across her arm, like a branding.

like an imprint of being in a cult, you look back at the matriarch.

upon her forearm, the same name is etched deeply, a long stretch of scars lining around it, never touching the name directly. the room all around you, are filled with minatozakis, each and everyone one of them.

"the minatozaki name will be etched into your skin. do not show weakness." the matriarch calls you forth, you rise to your feet, making quick steps to her. kneeling before her as you present your arm, to which she gently rubs over.

the tanto digs into your arm, and you grind your teeth willing the pain away as the tip of the blade drags along the skin. clean and sharp lines that are moving like brush strokes on a painting.

you grip onto your pants for a distraction to shift the pain. the burning and sweating sensation making you tremble a little. you will it away when you feel the blade lift up suddenly.

"breathe." you can hear sana's voice behind you, calming the pain brewing all over your body.

letting out a held breath that's been burning your lungs. a reminder that this pain is temporary, the breathing chills the burning sensation in your head.

the final mark is laid upon your skin, and you can feel yourself feeling faint, holding onto the floor to keep your body upright. you feel the blade lift off your skin, the sound of the blade being cleaned, while you stare at the pool of blood on the marbled floor, dripping and seeping underneath your shoe.

"rise." she speaks. you stand up, letting the blood continue to run down your arm.

the ringing in your ears gets louder and louder. she speaks of tradition, the value of the name across your arm. all eyes continue to stare you down, eyes like steel.

"this blade, has etched every minatozaki in this room, and those that have been laid to rest. this blade, will continue to etch into the minatozaki clan for future generations." you stare at the blade now in your hand, only seconds ago tearing your skin apart and being branded as the family's new pawn.

"to a new generation." she says as she hands it over, the drippings of your blood still across the double beveled edge. you stare at the blade, the weight of it, the memories of each person etched. it's heavier than you expected.

generations of minatozaki's all carved into submission. you begin to feel it, stirring low in your subconscious, you need more.

every night in the dark study, you stare at the name. forever in your skin, and upon your body. a sign that you are now a minatozaki, even years spent becoming a figurehead didn't sear the idea until now.

the scarring has scabbed over and begun to heal, into that perfect shape of the name.

sana's been telling you stories about her late father, the patriarch of the minatozaki clan before he was assassinated by the abe clan. the abe's who wanted his land, his ability to rule over japan.

stories of his strict rulings, his inability to feel remorse, his lack of fear. his dictatorship under his ship, even more fierce than his father.

the golden age of the minatozaki clan.

you often visit the matriarch, learning family secrets that wouldn't be uttered under broad daylight. understanding the inner workings of a regime that's lasted centuries.

more so, you've been trained by the matriarch to take over the next generation for the minatozaki's. receiving training in the philanthropy for public image, but also training on how to take out an enemy without letting a single drop of blood fall.

you can see how the minatozaki's have gotten so far, extremely cautious and calculating, much like other conglomerate group families. as much as you didn't want to be pulled in, here you are. fighting both momo and mina in hand-to-hand combat.

a swift kick of the leg, and you topple over. the pain of the right hook that momo landed earlier still leaving a stinging in your cheek. you turn over, breathing in and out.

"you're still too slow." momo comments, sitting down with mina doing the same.

you continue to stare at the bright light overhead, the feeling of your heart beating thumping in your ears, the sweat dripping down your body.

"i know."

mina gets up, grabbing water bottles and passing one to you. you sit up, drinking it as the two woman stare at you.

"why do you do this?" momo starts, a curious question that's been plaguing her mind lately.

the minatozaki's never asked you to be trained to be the next head of family, but you took it upon yourself to do so. grueling physical training, while learning the arts of the past generations.

mina continues to sip at her water, eyes watching you.

"duty. for sana, for haruto, for hanako." you explain, as much as you didn't want to become a pawn for their family, you care so deeply for the family that you now have, one that you would tear apart the world for.

mina nods, but momo rolls her eyes, "how noble." and with another sip, she gets up again. you begin sparring once more.

rolling your shoulders when you walk into your office, grabbing some soothing oil to rub onto the bruise on your ribs and the smaller bruises along your shoulders.

you stare at the tanto that now lays in a secret compartment under your desk. the etching tradition still leaves you in a heavy daze these days, how much you have changed all for sana's family.

when the devil herself walks in.

"you need to fire that assistant of yours." sana walks in, handbag hanging off her arm. glasses perched on her nose bridge, the exhaustion rolling off her words. she seems aggravated.

"why?" you cock your head to the side.

"she just told me you have a meeting in five, which i mean sure thank you for the information but i seriously don't care." you laugh out, as she crosses her arm. sitting comfortably in the armchair in front of you.

it seems today is one of those days.

"she's just doing her job." you explain. you liked shoko, she did her job well, often reworking your schedule when you needed her to. and she rarely complained about it, you even gave her a raise recently.

"yeah and i'm doing mine." sana gets up, leaving her bag on the floor and crosses over to you, dropping herself onto your lap.

she takes the glasses off your face. letting it slide across the table. you're about to get up to pick it up, when sana pushes more of her weight onto you. keeping you in your seat.

"last time you just waltzed into one of my 1 on 1 client meetings and sat on my lap the whole time." you point at her, showcasing the same exact behavior.

"yeah, like i said, i'm doing my job." sana says, taking off her sunglasses.

"sana...." you say dejectedly.

"i didn't hear you complaining when you bent me over this table and ate me out the rest of the afternoon." and with that she smashes her lips against yours.

you completely forget what you were complaining about earlier.

"what's your favorite color?" sana's voice is quietly coming through the microphone, she called you multiple times, and texting you urgently nearly ten times.

you silenced it, only to get a note from your assistant to pick up her calls.

"hmm, green." you say, watching as the shareholders stare you down, waiting for your approval.

without another second, the sound of the call ending comes through, you glance at your phone screen, seeing the call disappear, and a little confused.

"sorry, please continue." you point at the junior executive, he's been trying to get through this presentation without peeing his pants, and really you would like to get through it enough for him to finally calm down.

fifteen minutes later you get multiple pings on your phone.

"so like i said, we expect the project with akira industries to go well-" the junior executive's voice completely drowns out into white noise when you see what's displayed on your screen.

sana baby: attachment: 3 images

sana baby: you like?

your phone screen is filled with green, all three photos illuminating your face in a green hue.

green lingerie set, green bows tied around her hair, and your dress shirt draped over one. good god, she looks like a vixen.

photos of her laying across the bed, aimed at the mirror, long legs that stretch across the comforter. gorgeous lithe body framed by that light green corset. pouty lips in a selfie, aimed down at her cleavage.

you nearly curse out loud, instead letting a cough come through at the last second to cover it up.

another message comes through. you lift your phone back up to your face.

sana baby: you come home in thirty and you can take it off with your hands, any later and you do it with your teeth.

you're trying to pick out your work outfit for tomorrow, eyes glancing at all the dress shirts that you had hung up in the walk-in closet. you can hear sana faintly humming through the other side of the closet.

"sana..." you pick out one shirt, noticing the pink-ish red color across the collar.

"yes darling?" she says in a light-hearted tone, you see her walk over with her eyes a little playful. her eyes landing on the dress shirt that you have in your hand.

you hold it up to her face.

"why are my dress shirts littered with lipstick marks?" she takes the dress shirt out of your hand, eyeing it with happiness.

"they need to know who you belong to." she says and hands it back to you.

you shake your head at it. putting it back onto the rack.

only to notice another shirt, and another shirt, and another shirt.

"i mean, literally every single shirt is covered in them." you point at the whole rack, now noticing the pink/red littered across the collars. all of them have it. you turn to look at her, eyes wide as she just smiles at her handiwork.

she gives you a peck and just leaves. turning her head to look at you over the shoulder and give one last remark.

"you better not wash them off or you're sleeping on the couch."

"the abe clan cordially invites you to the 2027 annual ball." you stare at the invitation in your hand, red cardstock, beautiful crest in the dead center.

with sana's quiet humming, you barely register that you've arrived at the abe clan's main estate. dark and light reds adorning the walls, intricate wooden carvings of dragons. the dark red crest and lapels on each security guard.

the sedan rolls forwards, until you're stopped by two guards. handing the invitation card to the chauffeur, and letting the guards scan the car.

you watch sana, her eyes floating around, admiring the long trees that line around the garden's pond.

and then the car continues to roll forwards, and all around you are different black marked cars. each with their own crest, women and men donning different formal wear. kimonos, tuxedos, hanboks, qipaos, ao dais, all around.

the door opens, and you step out, rounding the corner to take sana's arms into yours.

"one rule with the abe's, do not ever drink first in front of an abe." she whispers quietly as you both enter down a deep tunnel, much like the minatozaki house.

large stone slabs lined underneath, but you can see it above, the lining of birds across a wired line. much like a telephone line. their dark beady eyes staring down, with jet black feathers that make their body look like voids.

they all move their heads in turn with the walking guests. "trained birds, trained to kill." she comments and continues to pull you forward.

then you enter a big hall, filled with different dignitaries, generals, top executives, council members, even a few celebrity faces.

sana smiles at the sight of the turning heads, everyone's excited to see another conglomerate family at these events. "just smile and nod." she whispers again through a smile.

you do the same, watching the eyes all peer back at you. they don't have the stillness of the minatozakis, there's bloodlust, there's evil, there's an ominous undertone behind those spheres. a predator lying dormant in each and everyone one of them.

with the sound of the doors opening, you hear the awws of the guests, all piling into the abe main hall. much like the grandeur of the minatozaki clan, it's lined with artifacts of war.

great katanas and bows hung along the walls. dark and deep red colored accents, a giant abe crest upon the center. there's beautiful music playing in the background as you scan the room. sana tugs you along.

"how much do you know about the abe's?" sana stares at you as she hands you a small knife. you tuck it into the breast pocket.

"a little." you offer, brushing her hair out of her face, and she gleams at that, giving a little kiss before returning back to her stoic face.

"kaito and kenji, two sons of the abe clan. kaito's set to become the head of the family. there's rumors that kenji might kill him for the seat." she explains, adjusting the knife in her thigh holster.

you nod, her mother has educated you on all the conglomerate groups, especially the abe and watanabe clan. both have been vying for the possible absorption of the minatozaki clan.

you adjust the knife holster for her, as you check your surroundings, just as you expected. nearly the same power in their private military, donning red fabric. you both take off to the other side of the room, eyes darting from face to face trying to remember significant figures, but who are you kidding, they're all people in power.

browsing through plates of delicacies, waiters and waitresses circling with plates of drinks. each more colorful than the last, it seems the abe have distinct taste.

you're leaning to your left when you're suddenly pulled into a conversation, the woman making large and loud gestures at you. most of which you nod and let the words flow through your ears. you never thought you would see her again.

sana's staring, taking turns staring at her and staring at you. her hold on your arm tighter than ever, feeling the blood thump in your arm. she continues to drone on until finally she gets swept into another conversation with someone else.

sana unhooks her arm from you.

"who is that?" sana stares at you, arms folded and that tick in her jaw. you can't help but keep eyeing the long black dress that she has on, with a deep thigh slit along the left side.

you try your best to keep the impure thoughts to yourself, instead offering a kiss to sana's forehead when you stand in front of her.

"hmm, old friend from law school."

sana had been eyeing the woman even as she moved across the room. even more upset when she slid up next to you. talking your head off about something that must have been boring because she could recognize the attention leaving your body.

but she can't help but notice how forward the woman was, unnecessarily putting her hands on you. unnecessarily laughing at whatever you are saying, just a bit too hard. unnecessarily pushing her cleavage up against you.

"our year?" sana says, brushing off a piece of lint from your jacket, also brushing off the feeling of the woman off your jacket.

you stare at her manicured fingers. long slender fingers that wear your ring proudly. you smile at the sight of the large diamond.

"no, a year younger." you say softly, bringing her hand up to kiss it. she flips your hand over to kiss it back. "why do you ask?"

"didn't know you liked younger women..." she comments, back to nitpicking what the woman is wearing tonight.

how dare she try and lay her hands on you? sana's thinking of calling momo and mina to do some 'intervention'.

"i don't, like younger women i mean." you watch sana as she stares down the woman. the way she holds onto the neck of the champagne flute, the way she has that tick in her jaw, the way she can't keep moving her eyes up and down in disdain.

"good." she comments back, it's more so to herself, so you roll your eyes at that.

"i only like you sana." you say the golden words that make her heart melt. she stares at you for a bit.

"mhm keep sweet talking me like that and i’ll let you fuck me in the bathroom." she drapes her arm over your neck pulling you into a hot kiss, tossing a wink to the woman from earlier.

you pull away, her chasing after you, but with all the prying eyes you'd rather enjoy sana in a more private place.

you begin to pull her towards anywhere that isn't open space for people to watch, when you bump into someone on accident.

"oh hello." the man turns around, a tall man toying with a knife in hand. his eyes dancing with amusement. "apologies, hope there's no hard feelings."

"none here." you offer, trying to side-step around him when he places his small knife at your neck. you look down at it, engraving in the base with red ink.

"kenji abe." you whisper to yourself, but he claps in delight, nodding quickly and sheathing his dagger away.

"that is me!" he exclaims, offering his hand. you shake it, his grip awfully loose, too loose.

"nice to meet you mr. abe." you explain, still trying to drag sana away. he stops you with a hand, a little smirk on his face. taking a glance at you and sana.

“nice to meet the minatozaki’s new lapdog.” he smiles, and then takes a look at sana, “hello sana, it’s been a while hasn’t it. kaito misses you.” the curling devilish smile as he hands both of you a drink. and taking one for himself.

“cheers! to a lovely abe ball.” he says as he holds the glass in the air, you take a quick look at sana out of your eye as you both clink his glass, letting it linger away from your lip.

watching the way he smirks, and then drinks his champagne. he smiles at you both before disappearing into the crowd.

“never liked him.” sana shudders as she says it, you just smile at her. letting her lay on your shoulder. “him and kaito. they’re dangerous. and he called you a lapdog, what an excuse of a man.”

you just nod, absorbing the information you’ve just been told. it’s not easy transitioning into this lifestyle, with structures and family systems in place, you feel like you really are out of your depth here.

a question still remains, what did he mean by kaito misses sana? you’re distracted by even more dramatic flairs of the abe ball. fire lighting up around, spotting several of your father’s old business partners, nodding to them.

"have i told you how gorgeous you look tonight?" sana starts, giving you a light kiss under your jaw.

"hmm, no, not tonight." you smirk, leaning into her, garnering another kiss. you smile when she rolls her eyes, kissing her jaw lightly too.

"well you do, and i think you would look even more gorgeous under me." she whispers into your ear, you lean back. it seems tonight’s been getting under her skin, constantly trying to get you away from the ball.

you shake your head ready to tell her no when you hear a mic being tapped.

“hello, welcome to the 247th annual abe ball!” a tall well tailored man is speaking into the mic, upon a lifted podium. his voice loud and commanding as he looks below at all the guests.

all around you are people clapping at him, so you begin to clap, interested in whoever this man might be.

“my name is kaito abe, thank you all for joining us tonight.” he booms into the mic, the sound booming off the walls, everyone clapping at his pauses.

“tonight, we have something special, a very special event.” he says, lifting his hand out to the other side of the podium. white flashing lights suddenly illuminating three bodies.

the sound of gasps and quiet whispers making you curious. you keep your hand on the knife, sana’s picked up on the same thing, her hand pulling the thigh knife.

“i welcome you, the death of the watanabe’s.” and there you can see it, white fluorescent lights shining across three figures. their eyes begging for help while they’re forced to face the bloodlust of kaito abe.

“sana, get behind me.” you push her behind you, her eyes staring at the watanabe’s.

they look roughed up, blood already pouring from their heads and clothes. the patriarch, his wife and the only heir.

“you see, a little weasel from their clan, a vermin even.” kaito begins throwing the tanto he has in his hand, one much like the minatozaki tanto you have in your desk.

he continues to flip it through the air with ease. “tried getting into our clan, how silly right?”

he leans forward, nearly off the edge of the podium as he laughs maniacally. you can see shuffling begin to happen, people are panicking, trying to leave the ball.

only to be pushed back into the center by the abe guards, all of them wielding weapons.

“oh no, you can’t leave darling, the show’s barely begun!” he continues to round the podium, letting out a laugh when the woman starts crying, his tanto hanging loosely in his hand as he points at the woman.

“see, when there's a rat in your home, what do you do?” he continues to pace the podium. “answer me!”

he shouts from above, more people are shuffling nervously and then you hear a distant, “you exterminate them!”

“BINGO! you. exterminate. them.” he laughs a bit, walking briskly towards them, pulling at the hair of the patriarch.

you curse out loud, his swollen eyes and chunks of his hair missing.

“but you can’t just exterminate one rat. no. no. they will just continue to repopulate. exterminate. at. the. source.” and then he jabs the tanto right into the man’s neck.

blood gushing onto his suit like a geyser. he lets out a laugh as the man sputters up blood before falling forward.

then he moves towards his wife, stabbing into her neck as her cries turn into screams. dragging out a laugh from him, meanwhile their son is crying silently, arms defeated as he watches his two parents’ now dead body.

“and remember. no survivors left behind.” he says with finality, as he shoves the tanto deep into the son’s neck, the tanto left inside.

sana’s covered her eyes into your back. you can feel her shaking a bit, you cover her ears as you pull her close, letting her keep her head against your chest.

“sana?” she just continues to shake in your arms, fear enveloping her entire body. memories of her younger self around the abe clan. you’ve never seen her so scared. she clings onto you like a lifeline.

“thank you, thank you! i hope you enjoyed the show!” he takes a deep bow, one in which he keeps his head forward with that smirk on his face. joy from killing, joy from being able to make others submit to him.

and then he walks over, using his foot as leverage as he pulls out the knife, wiping it clean off, and disappearing behind a door in the wall. the sound of shouts and chaos echoing through the hall.

the car ride is silent, sana’s gone quiet, simple nods when you ask her if she’s alright. eyes squeezed tightly and one hand curling around the other. you don’t even know where to begin talking about the events of tonight.

the abe’s are ruthless killers, you remember that even from when sana told you. it just takes a live performance of it to see how they are devoid of remorse.

kaito abe, kaito abe, kaito abe.

you barely knew the watanabe’s, only speaking to their son once, he was quiet. he didn’t seem the type to want to lead their clan, but now he lays dead, at the hands of kaito.

you play with your knife in your hand, thinking about how easily it shoved down the watanabe’s, killing them so quickly. the same blade that’s supposed to show honor and birth of a new member of the clan, used for killing those that harm the family.

the car rolls into the manor, and you take a deep breath, looking at sana. eyes still unfocused and staring at her own hands. you open the door and round the back to open the door to her side.

“darling? we’re home.” you offer your hand, she doesn’t even move. so you tap her shoulder lightly, she jumps at the touch, moving back from it.

“oh, sorry.” she takes your hand, and you pull her out, leading her towards the door. you immediately squatting at the sight of haruto and hanako walking outside.

picking up haruto in your arms, while sana picks up hanako, a warm smile back on her face. holding hanako tightly to her chest. haruto messes with your hair, pointing around and talking about his day. you kiss his forehead and walk inside.

there’s still a weird tension lingering around her, she refuses to look you in the eyes. instead preoccupying herself with putting hanako to bed. so you do the same putting haruto into bed. tucking him in and giving him a kiss while sana waits outside. you kiss hanako on the forehead as well before slipping out.

giving yourself a deep breath when you close the door, you see sana next to you, her eyes back to their unfocused state. there’s something she isn’t telling you, and normally you aren’t one to pry. but after the events of tonight, you need to know.

“sana, are you alright?” you hold her head in your hands, eyes peering into hers, for any sign really. she just nods, taking a deep breath, dragging you down the hallway.

“i have something to tell you.” she begins as she sits at her vanity. starting to take off her earrings, you unclasp the necklace that she has on, placing it into a velvet box before tucking it away.

she stares at herself in the mirror, memories of her past self resurfacing.

“kaito abe and i, we used to date. set to marry actually.” you sit next to hit, listening intently as she continues to take out hairpins and set them across her table. “it was what was destined for us, until his father killed my uncle. momo and mina’s father.”

you nod, you didn’t know much about momo and mina but there was an emptiness in their eyes, you always assumed it was because they were trained soldiers.

“seeing them up there on the platform, it felt like i was watching momo and mina being killed at his hands. then i thought, what if he killed you, what if he killed haruto and hanako. i’m so scared.” she bursts into tears, hands shaking to hold yours.

“he won’t be able to, i won’t let him.” you say confidently, kissing her gently.

“so, the minatozakis were here tonight.” kenji stares at kaito, both of them throwing knives at a corkboard, you and sana’s photos pinned to the board.

“yes, sana and her plaything.” kenji turns to a guard, handing him ten new knives. kaito just laughs, doubling over and wiping the tears out of his eyes.

“her plaything? how delightful.” kaito stares at the photo of you, and then down at the photo of haruto and hanako by your side. “and her spawns.”

“yes, two it seems.” kenji nods as he continues to throw straight into the forehead of your photos. the two continue to throw knives in the silence, slicing through the air, as they land on the different photos across the board.

“kenji, let’s topple the minatozakis?” kaito stares at sana’s photo as he aims for her heart, landing dead in the center.

“with pleasure.” his final knife aimed straight at your heart.

a/n: message me if you want a part 4 :^P

#sana #twice #twice sana #sana twice #sana minatozaki #minatozaki sana #sana x reader #sana x you #kpop imagines #twice x reader #twice x you #neoplatinum

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thisblogisaboutabook · 3 months

Text

Rainy Season - Part 2

What You Gonna Do?

Azriel x Reader

A short follow up to Rainy Season since you all have been so gracious with your responses - Initially I planned a time jump for part 2 but decided to give a taste of the aftermath of her leaving. Things will eventually look up for our girl, she’s just going through it right now. Stay tuned for more! I’ve decided to make this a short series.

Part 1 Part 3

Warnings: cheating, language

Azriel

Who wakes you when the morning comes?

Azriel awoke to rays filling the room with brightness. Shit - he’d overslept. Why hadn’t Y/N woken him? He looked over to find the bed cold, as if it had been vacant for hours.

Wiping the sleep from his eyes, he wandered to the kitchen, lacking its welcoming aroma of fresh coffee and the sweet and savory aromas of pastries and bacon. No, it was totally empty.

Where was she?

“Y/N?” He groggily called out into the house.

Silence.

Slipping on a pair of pajama pants he wandered to the door. The chill of the house whipping against his bare, muscled abdomen.

Perhaps she was basking in the sunlight on the patio. He always loved how she looked in the morning rays - a deity in her own right. He should probably tell her that sometime.

Padding to the front door, two things caught his attention.

One, his clothes were strewn over top of his bag and two, a note was scrawled in her messy handwriting.

No - not a note. A list of rhetorical questions.

“Who wakes you when the morning comes?

Who gives you all she has to give?

Who fulfills all her promises?

Who sees the good in you?

What are you gonna do when I’m gone?

Where you gonna go when there’s nobody home?

Who’s gonna love you when you’re all alone?”

He dropped his head. Fuck - things were good last night. What happened? As he bent back down to clear up the strewn undergarments, the strong, sweet scent of Elain wafting into his nostrils.

No - those questions were not rhetorical. They were a plea. “Who?” Who is that person to him?

Clutching his chest he realized just how terrible a mistake he’d made when he fucked Elain.

—————

Y/N

The warm rays of the Summer Court and the overwhelming weight of crushing heartbreak greeted me bright and early. A mockery to the pouring rain I’d traveled through last night, showing up at my grandmother’s door like a drowned rat.

Instead of chastising me for how long it had been since I’d paid her a visit, her brown eyes only met me with compassion. She knew me well and every ounce of pain on my face spoke the words that I couldn’t get out.

She pulled me into a bone crushing hug, ran a hot bath and steeped a pot of tea before laying in bed behind me and running her fingers through my hair until my heaving sobs turned to shuddering breaths and eventually a deep sleep.

It was a strange feeling. It had been too long since I’d seen her and yet, she showed me more love and compassion in a span of three hours than I had in the last three years.

Thank the gods the rays woke me early as I had to make it to the palace in Adriata immediately.

“Leaving me so soon?” Grandmother asked as I hurried out the door. “Sorry! I promise I’ll be back before lunch.”

I’d only met Tarquin a handful of times but sensed that he was a kind, benevolent ruler. Still, I expected to meet with his officials before being granted access to his office but when he’d heard who was here to see him, he immediately made time for me.

By the end of our meeting, he’d granted me renewed citizenship in the Summer Court and wrote to Rhysand effectively barring Azriel from his court. Careful to not create tensions in the court, he revoked the current ban on Cassian so long as he could keep himself from destroying any more buildings within his court.

Despite my numb state, a small smile flickered across my face as I imagined Cassian’s reaction to the news. He wasn’t one to hold petty grudges but he certainly clung on to that of being banned from the Summer Court. I just hoped he wouldn’t be angry with me for leaving without saying goodbye.

Additionally, Tarquin discussed my skill set with me and by the end of the meeting I had been offered a paid position in teaching self-defense courses within the palace to a variety of age groups, primarily focusing on women and children. I brought few assets with me upon leaving the Night Court and my pride was too stubborn to withdraw any of the money from Azriel and I’s shared account when I left. No, I could do well enough on my own - thank you very much.

After the battle of Adriata, Tarquin had ramped up efforts of ensuring his citizens were better protected on all fronts so his offer was mutually beneficial for his court and me, ergo not solely extended out of pity. My pride beamed at that.

I gratefully accepted his offer.

—————

I returned home. Home? No, not home - to my grandmother’s house to find that my sister and nephew were there waiting for me.

“Oh my gods!!!!!” My sister Camila yelped. Practically tackling me.

“Gran! You didn’t tell me that Y/N was coming for lunch. You secretive old thing.”

Before he could say anything I swooped my nephew, Alex, up into my arms and - ouch, I was not as strong as I used to be because it was an effort to lift him. He’d grown at least a foot since the last time I’d seen him. A pang of guilt struck me out of my blissful state and back to reality at the thought. It had been far too long since I’d come to visit my family.

“Where’s Uncle Azriel?” he asked.

The question struck me like a knife. My expression faltering as I scrambled to regain composure. “He’s on a mission.” I lied.

My sister’s brows furrowed. She was always too good at reading me but thankfully she didn’t press further. I would talk to her when I was ready.

We spent the rest of the afternoon chatting and catching up. Alex animatedly told me of school and all of his friends - I couldn’t help but smile as the warm summer breeze whisped over my exposed skin. The tea tasted a little bit sweeter, the air a little fresher, and the company a little warmer.

—————

“Y/N?”

Rhysand’s distant voice echoed into my mind as I lay down for bed that night. I always forgot how far his daemati abilities could carry.

“Hello, Rhys.”

“I received Tarquin’s letter. Azriel has been on edge all day and…. Well, I’m not going to ask you to share anything you don’t want to but - it must have been bad. Take all the time you need.”

“I’m not coming back, Rhys.”

The words rolled through me so quickly that I almost believed them but I knew I’d need closure at some point. For now, I wasn’t ready for that.

Seeming to sense that exact thought Rhys only replied, “Write me or Feyre if you need anything at all.”

—————

Who cries knowing you don’t care?

Night time always brought out stronger emotions in me. I’d keep my emotional barriers held high all day but as the sun set, so did those walls. As I lay in bed that night the first waves of grief blew through me. Not a wave of my own grief which had been omnipresent within me but… Azriel’s grief through our bond.

Of course it took me leaving for him to feel anything toward me through our own mating bond. I shut it down as effectively as I could and cried. Tears of anger flowed as I realized that my presence was never enough but my absence was what it took for him to give a damn about me.

Who worries what the future holds?

I grieved the future that could have been ours had he only chosen me. I let the sobs pour out once again as his pain rolled through me in waves. He couldn’t even extend the courtesy of shutting down his end of the bond as he came to grips with the ramifications of his own actions. His emotions only brought me bitterness and maybe that was a flaw on my end but it sure as hell felt justified. I spent so long giving him everything and even now, I still receive only heartache in return.

Who’s tired of empty promises?

He swore he’d love me forever but forever only meant until someone better came along. Certainly it wouldn’t be long before he returned to Elain for comfort. Would he be courteous enough to shut down the bond then or would I feel the pleasure she brought as she soothed his emotional wounds then too? As he healed and made the same empty promises to her that he had to me? Hell, had he already made those promises to her? Would he hold to them for her?

What would he do now that I’m gone?

What would I do now that I’m gone?

———————————————

A/N brace yourselves, we’re getting a different character’s POV in the next chapter 😏 🔥

Tags:

@going-through-shit @kalulakunundrum @lisanna2000 @fxckmiup @sheblogs @emryb @one-big-fangirl @historygeekqueen @isa1b2h3 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @theravenphoenix26

#acotar #sarah j maas #azriel x reader #Azriel #a court of silver flames #a court of thorns and roses #a court of frost and starlight #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #azriel shadowsinger #inspired by hunter hayes #Tarquin #summer court #fuck around and find out #azriel angst #acotar angst #elriel #azriel x elain #elain archeron

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luveline · 1 year

Note

would you ever consider writing poly!marauders? or even more of the luna reader with platonic (or romantic) marauders?

if u have more poly!m requests please send them (to clarify this is romantic) fem!reader tw cut

"You should be more careful," Remus says, "really, dove."

You lean back against the kitchen counter and try not to wince as he finishes with the dressing on your arm.

"I am careful," you say.

He laughs softly. It's a rare sound, kind that has you smiling immediately. You wrap your arms around his neck, careful not to press down on your injury, and kiss his neck quickly.

"Thanks for fixing me, handsome," you say.

Remus pats your back. "That's never something you have to thank me for… You might like me less when the boys come home."

You pull away. "You texted them?" you ask, already resigned to your fate.

He looks gorgeous even when you're mad at him, pale skinned but dark in his way, dark eyes and dark brows and his amazingly handsome nose that makes you wanna lean over and kiss him.

"Afraid so." Remus squeezes a path up your arm to your shoulder. "You know the lashing they'd give me if I didn't."

"Well," you murmur, "I suppose you did patch me up."

He kissed your forehead as the sound of the front door opening echoes down the hall. "That's the spirit."

"Angel?"

You relax. It's James, which means you aren't in for a loving telling off, just a loving. You stay by Remus' side until James is in view, a shock of green rugby uniform stark against brown skin. He sheds his bag and you practically throw yourself into his open arms, 'cause usually that's exactly what he wants.

"Wait wait wait!" he says, holding out his hand, his wrist brace scratchy against your arm. "Don't hurt yourself worse! What happened?"

You fight him, trying to hug him and laughing when he holds you back like you're nothing. He's strong. "James, come on. I cut it on the garden fence."

He makes a sound like he feels super sorry for you and finally lets you hug him, your face in his solid chest, your hands at the small of his back. You settle in for as long as you want, James and you both suckers for a good hug, and sigh as his cheek kisses the top of your head.

"You okay, Moons? You look tired." James voice rumbles through your hear, low and warm.

"Fine. She just shocked me, running in the house with blood dripping down to her elbow."

"Give us a hug."

"I'll make tea."

James turns his lips to your forehead, "How come he'll hug me when we're alone, and he'll hug you all day long when you're together, but he's totally allergic to affection when we're together?"

"He's shy," you mumble, "ask him again in an hour and he'll say yes."

The door opens a second time and you'd hide your face pretty much in James' armpit, laughing through the horror. "Hide me."

"No, I don't think so."

James works your face away from his chest, hands held over the soft slopes of your shoulders. He looks you in the eye, all melty brown and sweetness. "Sure you're okay?" he asks.

You hum. He kisses your cheek.

"Okay, I'm gonna go harass Remus for a hug then, before he boils the kettle and threatens me with a scalding. Love you."

"I don't love you, you're leaving me for the wolves."

"I'm hardly a wolf," comes Sirius' amused drawl.

James raises his eyebrows at you in a silent gesture for Good luck, angel, and disappears around the corner to the kitchen.

You sigh and spin on your heel, finding your arch nemesis (concerned boyfriend) propped against the wall. He's in casual work attire, which for Sirius is a smart pair of trousers and a dark button down with the sleeves rolled up. His tan seems to have waned in the winter, leaving him pale. Though he often claims in a joking manner that it's a consequence of loving you, he's always so worried it steals the colour from his skin.

I like to worry, he'd assured you once.

"You might not believe me, but you look very handsome today," you say.

He raises a dark brow. "You say that every day."

"Emphasis on 'very,'" you say.

He pulls his weight off of the wall and holds out his hand as he approaches. You let him take your arm, let him assess the small dressing bandage Remus has applied over your cut.

"It was deep," you admit, "but not very long."

"Mm, Remus said," Sirius says, near murmuring as his thumb works into your wrist. He rubs over unbroken skin gently. "Does it hurt?"

You shake your head vehemently.

"Swear?"

"Why would I lie?" you ask. You smile at him. "You really do look handsome. And you didn't need to come home from work."

"It's my lunch break."

"Oh, good! Let me make you something, while everybody's home."

"Or I can make you something," he suggests.

You enter into a stare off. He faces you with little expression, a blank slate. A pretty blank slate. His lashes don't so much as flicker, while you struggle to keep a straight face under so much seriousness. Your lips twitch with a laugh and something about it must break him, because he takes your face into his two hands and presses your noses together.

"You make it very hard to be sensible about things," he says, and gives you a chaste kiss.

His lips are a warmth you savour, and he steals them back much too swiftly for your liking.

"Remus is the sensible one," you deny. "You're the overprotective one. And James is… James." You sigh, lovelorn. "And I'm the stupid one who cuts herself on chicken wire. You really didn't have to come home."

"I wanted to."

He leads you by the hand into the kitchen, where James and Remus stand in front of an unboiled kettle, Remus face smushed into James broad shoulder, a muscled arm locking him into place. He looks quite happy.

"Sorry, I'm still making tea," he says into James' sleeve.

"No, I'm gonna make dinner," you say, yanking Sirius to the lovefest.

You worm under James' other arm and Sirius strokes at the hair curling over Remus' forehead, mumbling, "Oh, god, she's killed you."

"Worse ways to go," Remus says.

#poly marauders #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders #poly!marauders x fem!reader #remus lupin x reader #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #the marauders #the marauders x reader #the marauders fanfiction #poly marauders x reader

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on-leatheredwings · 18 days

Text

Meeting the Family

based off this! but can be read alone.

Yandere! Fem! Reader / Yandere! Bruce Wayne

> romantic with bruce, platonic with the boys. the boys could be read as pre-yandere if you wish. > tw/cw: reader is a yandere, yandere-typical thought patterns, implied drugging, mention of self-harm, implied drugging > request: thoughts on co-conspirator!reader meeting the boys? > a/n: Hmmmm, i feel it’d be a meeting of interrogation where they see you’re clearly unstable !! > word count: 1.4k

You walk towards the threshold of a Wayne Manor sitting room. You have this hallway nearly memorized. You’ve viewed it through your 24/7 surveillance cameras and glanced upon it during your visits, but never has this hallway seemed so daunting until now. Luckily, your lover is nearby to reassure you. Bruce slips his hand into yours, and you inwardly swoon. You share a warm glance with him.

“They’ll adore you,” he says. You let a smile peek through your anxious expression. “I know I do.” At such sweet words, you feel your cheeks heat. Ugh, this man, you think affectionately.

Your Sunday best is the armor you don to meet Bruce’s children. It seems like you won’t even be able to meet them all – only the ones in town. “They just want to interrogate me,” you whine, letting yourself be pulled towards the impeccably decorated room.

“They just want to get to know you,” Bruce returns, humming. You can’t retort because already, you are in full view of his brood. The three of them look up from their phones and books. You swallow, under the scrutiny of two pairs of blue eyes and one pair of green.

“... Hi,” you say, waving a stupid hand. One smiles in return, thank goodness.

“I’ll just let you all get acquainted,” Bruce says, retreating. You swerve to him, blinking dumbly. That was not the agreement. The agreement was that Bruce moderate the discussion– and he’s gone.

He leaves the sitting room, and leaves you in the lion’s den to fend for yourself. And boy, do the lions pounce.

The eldest, Dick – he’s positively godsent. He’s the first to shake your hand, immediately going into a friendly babble about how you’re all Bruce ever talks about and how he’s been excited to meet you. And thank God for that, because it manages to ease the tension you still have in your shoulders. He introduces himself and his brothers, melts the ice by teasing them as he does it. He offers you a seat across from them, offers you tea and cookies. He shares an anecdote of Bruce’s less polished moments to make you laugh.

You soon realize he was a sleeper agent. He was merely buttering you up, lowering your defenses with well-placed platitudes and good-natured jokes.

It’s Tim who begins the true assault.

“So,” Tim begins over a cup of tea, looking upon you owlishly. “Isolation for 10 long years… How was that?” You blink, startled, before smiling weakly. At least no one was treating you like glass. Sometimes, that made you feel even more like a freak.

You try to give him a Sparknotes recollection, but it doesn’t satisfy him. At his badgering, you do relent more details. You are slipping your innermost thoughts without much of a fight, to your surprise. Dick’s empathetic gaze and Tim’s enraptured attention have you spilling dark thoughts it took you months to even tell Bruce…

It was long. It was traumatic. Mind-altering. You have breakdown after breakdown. Self-harm after self-harm. There is a part of you you can never get back… So, 'how was it?' Why, just awful, thanks for asking!

Dick comforts you with “you’re so strong,” as Tim nods. He seems happy with his findings. It seems like you have piqued his academic interest – you can basically see the gears churning behind his mind, the factoids he’s storing for later. For what, you don’t know, but you’re glad to help. Throat dry, you down the rest of that blasted tea, but the boys aren’t quite finished.

Damian, however, is brutal in his questioning, sparing any of the pleasantries or dithering his brothers employed. He asks rapid fire about your past outside of your years in isolation. What was your childhood like? Your relationship with your parents? Did you ever graduate high school? College? What was your major? Do you like animals? His father houses two dogs, a cat, and a cow – you do know that don’t you?

“What are your intentions with my father?” At that, you flinch.

“Nothing… nefarious, to be sure,” you say, sweat beginning to bead on your temple. It’s true! Aside from all the dastardly actions you wanted to inflict upon Bruce in the bedroom, nothing nefarious!

“And his other suitors? They don’t bother you?”

At that, your smile wilts. Not from any offense… you simply don’t enjoy the reminder that others do seek Bruce’s affection.

“They… don’t worry me,” you say succinctly. Dick doesn’t think you realize how your smile has grown sharp. Damian doesn’t let on whether he approves or disapproves of the answer. And Tim simply watches.

“And my father’s controlling and possessive tendencies? You’re fine with that? What would you do if you caught him in a lie? Or if a woman he was involved with confronted you?”

You gape like a fish. Man, what a character this one was. Damian blinks slow and catlike, before he sniffs. “I’m asking for one of the siblings who couldn’t be here today.”

“Um…” you return, discombobulated. You shoot off your answers as rapid-fire as he posed them. “I haven’t noticed any tendencies. And I can handle myself! If he lied… I’d hear him out. He probably had a good reason, of course.”

“What if it was infidelity?”

You glare at them. “I’d get rid of her.” Why do they keep bringing up other women?

At the boys’ silence, you realize your mistake. You wave your hands and bluster, “Not like– not like get rid of her– I would just tell her to… Leave. And I’d be… angry… at Bruce.” God, you don’t feel like you’re doing too well in this interview. You hiccup, filling your cup some more. What is in this tea? Man, it’s delicious.

“... Interesting.”

“What if Bruce left you out of his own volition?” Tim points out, drawing your attention.

Your head snaps to him and you stare… That possibility had never even crossed your mind.

“He wouldn’t,” you say, confused. At raised eyebrows, you say, “I mean. I-I don’t think he would.” You have faith in Bruce. It’s been five months now, and your relationship has gone swimmingly. You had your insecurities… but Bruce had kissed all your worries away by now. Your fingers dig into the cushion of the couch.

He wouldn’t leave. He couldn’t. He had already reassured you, and been so kind, and wonderful, and shown you what love was like– he couldn’t just leave you now–

“But what if he did?” and this time, the question comes from Dick, who, if you recall, hadn’t asked a single question yet. He looks serious, unlike his casual air from before.

You keep the desperation out your voice by keeping it chillingly level. “Then I’d convince him otherwise.” Good answer, good answer, you applaud yourself. All the boys nod, looking upon you with varying degrees of interest, curiosity, and understanding.

“Then… I suppose we have just one more question,” Tim says, plucking the kettle of tea out your hands. You pout.

“Thoughts on having children?”

At the question, your brows shoot into your hairline.

“... Are there not enough of you already?” you blurt.

To your relief, they all relax.

After that strange encounter, Bruce shows himself and sees you out. The walk outside is quiet. Comfortably quiet on your end. You hope you did good… no, you reassure yourself. Fuck it, you did great.

“So… how were they?”

You glance at his face, and are surprised to see thinly veiled concern behind his smile. “Did any of them say anything… strange? And… did you like them?” You laugh, before floating up to kiss Bruce between the brows. Flight powers came in handy for stuff like that.

“They were wonderful,” you say cheekily. “Something they clearly get from their father.”

bonus!

Bruce re-enters the foyer. He shoots off a text, lamenting. If you hadn’t had him bug his own home, he could’ve spoken to the boys freely. He could’ve had Jason hide nearby, instead of having to listen in on Damian’s phone.

Bruce: Did that satisfy your curiosities?

Several ellipses in bubbles pop up, before his phone rattles with their responses.

Damian: Frankly, she comes off as airheaded and naive, but at least she seems to have some semblance of spine.

Jason: She’s crazy. Didn’t we tell you to stop sticking your dick in crazy

Dick: Well, I think that makes you guys a perfect match!

Tim: bruce i’m sorry, you cannot fix her. however, i would like to study her. and possibly, make her worse

Bruce sighs, albeit smiling. By all accounts, you seem have gotten their general approval.

#yandere batfam #yandere bruce wayne #yandere bruce wayne x yandere reader #yandere reader #mine #platonic batfam for once lol crazyyy #tim drake #jason todd #dick grayson

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mylovelo-ak · 10 months

Text

meeting imbibitor lunae

pairing: dan heng x gn!reader

wc: 688

synopsis: it's been a while since dan heng left for xianzhou, and he came back looking different??

notes: established relationship; spoilers!!! wrote bc im stressed w school </3

"i don't know, himeko, i haven't been able to reach him for days."

himeko let out a light laugh before sipping at her tea.

"he's a strong guy, (name). i guarantee you he's fine."

it's been a while since you last saw dan heng on the astral express after he decided to go after the others on the xianzhou. and he hasn't been replying to your messages since. dan heng has always been quick to reply to you, so his silence was frankly, out of character.

you're worried he's been involved in something keeping him busy or in danger.

dan heng never told you anything about his life before the express, and he never mentioned anything about xianzhou. but his uncertain expression when the place was mentioned, was a dead giveaway that something must've happened before.

"well yes, but he's all alone there and—"

a loud noise cut you off, followed by march's excited voice exclaiming about something.

"well looks like they're back!" himeko smiled before getting up to greet the returning members. you follow suit, eager to see your stoic boyfriend.

your footsteps were hurried, and you only mumbled a quick hello to the rest and went straight to... dan heng?

"did xianzhou give you a voucher for a salon or something?"

dan heng looked different.

his hair was longer, ears pointed, and is that eyeliner?

"hello." was all he said as his eyes darted to look everywhere but straight at you. there was a faint blush on his cheeks, which you assume is a result of your staring.

"must've been a wild trip, huh?"

"so let me get this straight, you were reincarnated, then thrown out of xianzhou, and you're actually some former big shot over there?"

"something like that."

after slipping away from everyone, you and dan heng settled in your bed in your room. his head was nestled in your lap as you hand your back against the bed frame. it's a position you both resort to after a long day, or in this case, a week.

you were mindlessly toying with his hair, almost convinced it wasn't real. for not being in this form for so long, his hair was pretty smooth.

"can i braid your hair?" you asked, already separating strands because you knew what he was going to say. he hummed in response. he leaned into your touch and let himself relax.

it wouldn't be the first time that you've done this. he used to leave the express with tiny braids scattered in his hair.

you started at the part where his hair split into two directions. you figured it would be better to do two huge braids instead of potentially hurting his scalp by doing what you used to do when his locks were shorter.

it frustrated you a little since his position would make the braids turn out wonky and inconsistent, but it's been a long week for your poor lover, you'd rather he lie down and relax.

it took you a while to finish because you took so many breaks admiring dan heng, but eventually you did.

"hey, can you move so i can lie down with you?" you tapped his cheeks to grab his attention.

you waited but to no avail. dan heng was fast asleep on your lap. you took the time to properly look at him. he looked so different from the dan heng you first met. every feature felt amplified and a lot to take in.

you let curiosity take the best of you, tapping on the horns on his head. he frowned in his sleep. he shuffled a bit and you almost panicked that your tap woke him up. but he only moved to nuzzle further into your thigh.

he was still dan heng after all. a boy of a few words who rarely smiled unless it was with you. dan heng who loved to fall asleep on any part of you and would whine when you’d try to escape from his hug (he’d never admit to doing that when he’s awake though).

you'd endure your legs falling asleep anytime for this man.

#dan heng #dan heng x reader #hsr x reader #hsr #hsr x you #hsr dan heng #honkai x reader #honkai dan heng #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #dan heng x y/n #imbibitor lunae

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padfootagain · 4 months

Text

When We Were Lying

Hi! Here is another Hozier fic! Had a lot of fun with this trope, as always, I hope you’ll like this little story! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x reader

Warnings: none… a bit of strong language and an awful lot of longing? Fake-dating AU

Summary: Your ex is attending your family gathering for Christmas and there is no way you're going to face that alone. Of course, you drag your best friend into this, and he's too smitten with you to say no when you ask him to pretend to be your boyfriend. Although, the fact that you both have feelings for each other might end up being a problem...

Word Count: 10055

Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

“Sorry… what?!”

Andrew was blinking at you. There was something unnerving in his frown and the intensity of his stare, but you had to bear it. After all, you had no other choice.

“You’re the only one I can ask to do this with me…”

“I’m absolutely not doing that!”

“Why not?”

“Why not?! Why not?! Do I really have to answer that question or have you found back your sanity?”

“Andrew…”

“I am not going to lie to your entire family at Christmas just to save your stupid arse!”

“But I said ‘please’…”

“Y/N!”

“Andrew!”

“This is a terrible idea! I’m not doing that!”

He stared at you as if you had lost your mind, and in all fairness, perhaps you had… for a part at least. Why else would you be sitting in your best friend’s comfortable sofa, in the middle of his large and yet welcoming living room, asking him to lie to your family and pretend that you were together? Only for a day though, just for the traditional meal on Christmas, the boring and tedious lunch on the 25th where you exchanged gifts and stabbing remarks with your least favourite members of your family.

Not that you were not used to face this tragedy on your own; if your arse of an uncle had been the only obstacle to overcome this year, you would have emerged with flying colours. But this year was different. It was different, because your cousin Samantha was coming with her boyfriend… aka your ex-boyfriend. The one she had slept with ten months ago. The one who had betrayed you and broken your silly heart. The one you wished you could put laxatives into his drinks, or pierce his tires, or put some very strong pepper into his tea… Something Machiavellian like that…

But as your chances of poisoning his food at the Christmas lunch were limited, you had to settle for plan B. Which was simple enough: convince your best friend to pretend to be madly in love with you, so you would not have to bear any comments from your family about your broken heart and the fact that you had been cheated on by your fucking cousin Samantha… and perhaps, with a bit of luck, you could also make your ex, Craig, jealous.

A brilliant plan, if there was ever any. Only, Andrew didn’t seem to share your optimism.

“You’ve lost it, this time,” he went on, eyes wide, aghast as he slowly shook his head.

You couldn’t blame him for thinking this. Especially given the fact that your feelings for him would probably end up being a problem. But despite your silly little crush on him… who else could you ask such a favour to? The two of you had known each other for years. He was your best friend, you were ready to do anything for him. No one else would accept…

“Andy… I know I’m asking a lot…”

“This will never work. Beyond the fact that this is pure madness, it will never work! Your parents know me! They know we’re not together!”

“Friends get together all the time!”

“No one will believe us. And you know me, I hate… PDA and stuff like that… I can’t… even when it’s real, I struggle with that stuff. I can’t fake it.”

“On the contrary, that’s great! Cause then, we don’t have to act too much like we’re together, and we can just blame it on your well-known aversion for PDA!”

“No. I’m sorry, Y/N, but this time… it’s a no. I’m not doing that. I’m not playing fake-boyfriend for you.”

You heaved a defeated sigh.

“And I thought you would kill for me.”

“I’m a pacifist… a punch across the jaw is the best I can do.”

“Lousy friend.”

“Fuck off! You think you asking me to lie to your entire family is better? Just so you won’t have to hear them complaining about you being single? You think that’s not worse?”

You saw the way his expression saddened when yours did, when the tinge of playfulness left your features. His voice was softer when he spoke again.

“Why is it so unbearable anyway, huh? You’ve forgotten how my mother can be? I’ve got that refrain sang to me all the time too. It’s not so bad.”

You bit on your lip and lowered your gaze before answering, holding back tears that came blurring your vision of Andrew’s soft carpet.

“Craig and Sam will be there. Together.”

You didn’t need to look up at him to know he was clenching his jaw.

“I don’t… I don’t want to have to face that on my own. I’m not sure I can…”

You barely had time to brush a tear away that Andrew was holding you close, arms wrapped tightly around your frame. And you let him pull you even closer, until your ear was pressed against his heart, until he could drop a tender kiss to the top of your head. He heaved a sigh.

“Could you still come? As a friend?” you asked, voice trembling even if you didn’t want it to.

You hated being like this. Fragile. Crying. Not over the betrayal. You wanted to wave a perfect life at your ex so he would see all that he was missing, until he regretted everything. It was petty, but true. Instead, you would be the one sitting in an uncomfortable chair in a couple of weeks, trying not to throw up nor cry while you witnessed your ex and your cousin playing perfect couple…

Andrew heaved a painful sigh.

“I’ll come.”

“Thank you.”

“No, I mean… I’ll do it. The whole crazy plan. I’ll do it. I’ll be your boyfriend for the day.”

You pulled away just enough to look up at him. There were traces of annoyance in his gaze, but a lot of tenderness too as his eyes met yours, hazel irises turning greener in the quiet light of a late afternoon.

“Really?” you asked, voice shy even though you craved for confidence.

“Really. But you’d better make sure that your mother still loves me when you break it to her that we’re not together anymore! I’m not giving up on her amazing lasagnas, not even for you.”

“I have the recipe, you know?”

“Your mother’s taste better.”

“Fucker!”

“Don’t insult me, or I’ll take everything back and let you deal with this bunch of assholes on your own!”

“Sorry!” you quipped, hiding your face into his chest again, and you heard him mumbling some complaints, playing grumpy, but you knew better.

You were smiling as you listened to his low voice lulling you back into a soothed state. You wondered how he did that. How a mere hug and some whispering were all it took to calm you down, to make you feel safe all over again, when you were so damn insecure all the time.

You lost track of your own thoughts when his large hand came to rest on the back of your head, keeping you close.

And you were glad that you could explain a lack of PDA in front of your family, because there was no way for you to survive a whole day with the man you secretly loved holding you like that…

“Do you hate me? For being selfish and dragging you into this?” you asked him, voice muffled by his woollen jumper.

“No,” he shook his head. “No, I don’t hate you. I could never hate you.”

“Even if I called you to get rid of a body with me?”

“Erm… As long as I’m not the one cutting it into pieces.”

You both let out a chuckle.

“I’ll make sure to stain your carpet with the blood of my victims.”

“Now, that would make me hate you, for sure.”

“I knew you’d choose your carpet over me.”

“Yeah, but what a carpet it is!”

“It doesn’t make you lasagna though…”

“I only like your mam’s.”

You smiled, but remained quiet. You were serious again when your voice broke the comfortable silence that had settled over your two entwined frames.

“Seriously, though… I’m sorry I’m asking you this. I just… I just don’t see what else I can do. I don’t think I can stomach seeing the two of them as a happy couple while I’m still… desperately single. A real loser…”

“Stop talking about yourself like that,” he admonished, voice genuinely annoyed. “I hate it when you do that. You’re… you’re amazing, Y/N. More than you realise. And Craig and Samantha are terrible people. So… stop blaming it all on yourself. They can rot in hell.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in heaven and hell.”

“You know what I mean.”

A pause while you smiled, wool tickling your cheek.

“Thank you.”

He rubbed your back, gesture soft, taking his time.

“Don’t mention it.”

“You owe me so much…”

“I thought you said ‘don’t mention it!’”

“Don’t mention it, my arse…”

You laughed at him, you couldn’t help it. As Andrew and you walked together down the lane leading to your parents’ house, you couldn’t refrain your laughter. Andrew looked nervous… like the day he had met your parents for the first time, years ago.

“Stop acting like they don’t know you. My family adores you.”

“That’s until they learn I’m lying through my teeth.”

“You’re an infamous liar, anyway.”

“Hey!”

He faked outrage, making you laugh even more, and this time, he couldn’t refrain his own smile.

“I can’t believe you’ve convinced me to do this…”

“Me neither. You must have lost your mind, too.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but thought better of it, and sealed his lips again. There was something almost sad on his features for a second, and you wanted to ask if he was alright, but you were already in front of the green door.

“You ready?” he asked instead, an encouraging smile adorning his handsome features now, the cold of December making his cheeks and nose redden.

And you had to struggle through missing heartbeats to nod your head. He looked lovely like this, hair in a half-bun, some curls still free, hair tied only to keep the strands away from his face. He was wearing the grey beanie you adored, chin buried in a huge matching scarf…

“We’ll be fine,” he reassured you, all traces of playfulness or annoyance gone from his warm voice.

“Let’s make Craig so jealous he’ll choke over some pudding.”

You both chuckled, and Andrew nodded, lovely crinkles forming at the corner of his eyes as he kept on smiling.

“Sounds like a plan.”

You took a deep breath before knocking.

There was no turning back.

You glimpsed at Andrew one more time as you waited for your mother to come and open the door, and you thought it truly was the worst idea you had ever had, to ask Andrew to do this… Andrew, of all people. If he was the only choice, he also was the worst one. You simply hoped you wouldn’t have to fake too much… because your heart sped up at the mere thought of holding his hand…

What an idiot you were, getting yourself into so much trouble… at what point had you imagined it was a good idea to ask the man you secretly loved to be your fake boyfriend?!

Your thoughts were interrupted though, as your mother finally appeared. You grinned at her as she hurried to give you a hug.

Andrew had barely closed the door behind him that he was receiving a warm hug as well.

“Ha! Andy!” your mother welcomed him, making him laugh. “It’s so good to see you, it’s been too long.”

“It has indeed…”

“And finally! You two came to your senses!”

You frowned, but didn’t have time to ask your mother what she meant. Instead, you were pulled into the whirlwind that was your family.

Andrew remained close to you, and you were not surprised. There were plenty of people gathered in the large living room, several generations together in the warmth of your childhood home, and Andrew wasn’t too good with dealing with so many people. When you turned to him to offer him a gentle smile, one he immediately offered as well, he seemed a little uncomfortable, hands in his pockets as if he didn’t know what to make of his long limbs, head slightly bent, as to appear less tall than he truly was, a desperate attempt at hiding. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight, such a stark contrast with the confident musician he was each time he stepped on a stage.

You introduced him to the members of your family he didn’t know (including your terrible uncle, who didn’t fail to be rude, hence living up to his reputation). And everything was going fine, except perhaps for the uncontrollable burst that sparked through your heart and chest every time you called Andrew your boyfriend. You pushed to the side the longing that washed over you at the thought that you wished the word could be true…

But it wasn’t the right time for such consideration. After years spent as Andrew’s friend while harbouring feelings for him, you had grown amazingly talented at hiding the love that coursed through each of your cells every time you saw him, or heard him, or thought of him…

But that was not the right time for such thoughts. Indeed, a new couple was just entering the room…

… and suddenly everyone was quiet.

Samantha and Craig seemed to not notice the sudden silence, or else they were simply very good at hiding it. You couldn’t control your expression as you winced, turning towards the window.

But you were surprised by Andrew’s touch, as he reached for your hand. Fingers shy at first, barely the ghost of a caress across your knuckles. When you leaned closer, fingers searching for his too, he intertwined them together, and as you turned to him, he gave you the warmest smile. A silent gesture to tell you it would be okay.

You were even more surprised when he pulled you closer, a gentle tug at your joined hands. You had discussed, before coming to your parents’ house, the boundaries you needed to respect for today. Holding hands was okay. Touching arms, hair or a waist was okay. You had not discussed kissing, but you reckoned that it was a clear no. An arm around the other’s shoulders or back was good too.

But now, Andrew was pulling you gently closer until you were settled against his chest, and he bent to softly kiss your hair, lips lingering on the top of your head for several seconds. The gesture was so tender, you had to close your eyes…

And then his lips were gone, leaving behind the quiet sound of a kiss and their warmth. When you opened your eyes again and looked up at him, Andrew was blushing, but he was smiling too. And there was something in the way he was looking at you…

“Y/N! How good to see you!”

You turned towards Samantha, hence interrupting your train of thoughts, perhaps for the better.

You forced a polite smile, but didn’t go as far as to completely hide that you weren’t happy to see her.

“Sam! How are you?”

“Good! I’m good! What about you?”

She only then seemed to notice Andrew’s presence by your side, an impressive performance, given his height and the fact that you were still leaning into his chest…

“Oh, hi! Hmmm… Andrew, is it? I remember you! You’re Y/N’s friend!”

“Boyfriend now, actually,” you corrected her, and you were amused by the look of surprise on her face.

“Oh! Congratulations! Good for you!”

Around the room, conversations had started again, filling up space once more and giving you at least some privacy… although you knew it to be but a relative truth. Your relatives who stood closer to you were probably listening closely, unwilling to lose any crumb of the conversation and drama that might ensue.

Behind Samantha, Craig finally greeted you, more uncomfortable than his girlfriend was. He grew even more uncomfortable when he offered his open hand to Andrew.

“Good to see you again, Andy.”

You hated that Andrew had to let go of your hand to shake Craig’s, but his fingers found yours again as soon as the greeting was over. It was rare to see Andrew with a clearly forced smile on his face, he was generally better at hiding his discomfort, a habit of always being polite.

“Craig,” followed by a nod was the only greeting Andrew gave your ex, and you recognised protectiveness in the way he moved slightly closer to you, placing himself between you and Craig.

And you felt a little guilty for the sense of pride that you got from that gesture, knowing you shouldn’t be reading anything even remotely romantic into it… but then again, you were but human. And humans always liked dreaming…

“How are you two doing?” Craig asked, and you nodded.

“Good, we’re both doing good. You?”

“Oh, we’re great! We’re planning on going for a trip for our anniversary, don’t we, dear?” Samantha went on, turning to her boyfriend, who merely nodded… rightly uncomfortable.

“Amazing!” you managed to get out between gritted teeth.

“And for how long have you two been together, then?” Craig asked, changing the subject quickly.

“A couple of months,” you answered, a detail you and Andrew had agreed on.

“So, it’s still the honeymoon phase, then,” Sam nodded knowingly, although you weren’t sure what kind of knowledge that was…

“It’s pretty new,” you nodded.

“How lovely! But… I thought the two of you were friends,” she went on, acting confused.

“We were,” you confirmed, and when you struggled to continue, it was Andrew’s turn to step in.

“And now we’re more than that.”

The two of you exchanged a smile, and again, you noticed the way he was blushing.

Craig nodded his head, and you saw how he was frowning, the kind of expression he wore when he was upset over something.

“It’s funny that you were friends for so long and then all of a sudden… you decide to be more,” he spoke with a tinge of venom in a tone he tried to turn honeyed.

You looked for an excuse, but Andrew was the one to answer again. And you were taken aback by his words… and even more so by how earnest they sounded, although… although he could only be lying.

“We… we’ve spent a long time tiptoeing around that line. I think… we’ve had feelings for a while for each other. I guess we were simply afraid to lose everything we already had if we gave this a try.”

“And what decided you to give this a try, then?”

“I don’t know. Some courage, I guess.”

“Or an opportunity,” Craig proposed, making you frown. There was an insinuation behind his tone, and you didn’t quite know what to do of it.

Andrew seemed to understand better, judging by the way he clenched his jaw, slightly tightened his hold on your hand. He remained quiet though, refusing to rise to Craig’s challenge.

“These things can take time, you know?” you added, trying to pull the conversation away from the glares Andrew and Craig seemed keen to throw each other, a silent battle of thunder and storms. “Where are you planning that trip of yours?”

It was too easy to centre the conversation back onto Samantha, nothing surpriseing, though, considering her character…

Lucky for you, you were soon called by your mother to help in the kitchen.

Or actually, it was but a limited reprieve you were granted. It took your mother only a couple of minutes to bombard you with questions, while she made you cut some carrots, sunlight streaming on your hands from the window set above the sink as you worked. It enlightened the orange stains that slowly grew across your fingers while you dodged your mother’s queries, struggling to remain calm while lying. You thought you would be better at it, but as you peeled the vegetables, their forms made slippery in your hands, you were losing your footing, feeling increasingly guilty as the lies passed your lips again and again.

A first date in a quiet restaurant.

A piece of carrot thrown in the sink.

A first kiss in front of your door, as a tender goodbye, one that lingered in reluctance to part.

A blade slipping too fast.

No, you were not planning ahead for now, just taking things as they went, as they formed.

No, there was no words of love yet, don’t be ridiculous! It’s only the beginning…

“The beginning!” Your mother scoffed, throwing a potato in the sink, alongside your colourful pieces. “The man has been looking at you like you’ve hung the moon and stars for years! You’ve been stealing glances for so long… I don’t even remember when it started! It’s not the beginning, dear. The two of you have been in love for years. It is only a logical continuation.”

She frowned as she looked at you, finally lifting her gaze from the brown pile of peels.

“You’re okay?”

You were startled by her question.

“Of course! Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

“I don’t know… you seem… almost sad.”

You couldn’t hold her stare, and you fought every bit of instinct in you to avoid recoiling from her touch as your mother, in a sweet gesture, rested her hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t worry yourself over Craig and Samantha. And before you ask, I wasn’t the one who invited them.”

You nodded, as if you were reassured, as if she was right about the cause of your worry, had aimed straight at the knot of your problems.

She hadn’t. And you were perplexed as you realized this too. Because you had thought that seeing your ex and your cousin together would be unbearable, and it was, indeed, a painful sight. But it was hurting your pride more than your heart, a sting at your ego rather than a tear at your soul.

Instead, the images you summoned in a fake reality with Andrew were the ones destroying you. Because these details, these anecdotes, these stories you made up for your mother were ones you genuinely longed for.

A quiet date in a restaurant you loved. A kiss bathed in streetlights. Hands holding that didn’t want to let go…

This was a terrible idea. A terrible… terrible idea…

“Andrew! Come here, lad! Give us a hand with these, would you?”

You felt his presence by your side before his hand appeared in your vision, reaching for a vegetable, getting to work without any protest or arguing. He would lose anyway, against your mother, and he knew it.

You chatted together for a while, conversation smooth and easy, as always with him around. You almost forgot that all of this was fake when Andrew leaned closer, as if he longed for your nearness. You reached for him before you could think, leaning closer as well, until your arms touched as you worked, the ghost of a touch that was enough to set your heart ablaze…

God… this was such a terrible, terrible idea…

You barely noticed your mother as she moved around the kitchen, until she reached for Andrew.

“I’m so happy for you,” she spoke in a smile. “After all this time… I’m glad the two of you have finally worked out all the things that kept you apart.”

She disappeared before you could speak to her, ask her what she meant. When you turned to Andrew though, he was blinking tears away.

“Andy? You’re alright? What’s wrong?” You asked with sudden worry in your voice, but your friend shook his head.

“Nothing. I’m fine. Just… Erm…”

But he grew quiet, shrugged. You tried to guess, but were pretty sure to miss the mark when he reassured you again.

“Is my mother bothering you?”

“No! Of course, not. It’s weird lying to her, that’s all.”

There was something more to it, but Andrew interrupted you before you could question him further.

“Besides… we have another problem. A more important one. That’s why I was looking for you.”

“What is it?”

“Craig doesn’t believe us.”

“What?”

“He pulled me aside and told me he knew we were faking it. That he was going to tell everyone.”

“The son of a bitch!”

“My thoughts, precisely.”

“What did you answer?”

Andrew shrugged.

“That he was being ridiculous.”

“And?”

“That he was merely being jealous over the fact that he had let a woman like you slip between his fingers like a moron.”

You tried to hide the grin that formed on your lips at his praise.

“Nice… going all in on the ‘make him jealous’ wagon, I see…”

He took a moment to answer, voice less confident than his usual tone when he spoke once more.

“Just the truth…”

You ignored his remark, and you didn’t get why the same tinge of sadness made his hazel eyes greener again, the same way they had earlier that day…

“What can we do to convince him?” you asked, eliciting little more than a shrug from your friend.

You heaved a sigh, your carrots now all cut in the sink. Game over…

“Let’s see how all this unfolds,” was your only solution for now.

“And if he tells your family?”

“We’ll see, Andy. We’ll see.”

The meal was over. The gifts had been given, the kisses and thankful glances had been exchanged. It was time to settle in with some board games, for those willing, while others nibbled on some pastries and chatted in sofas and armchairs. The last remnants of cakes lingered in porcelain plates while coffee, tea and hot chocolate were being served. You laughed when Andrew picked up your warm beverage before you had a chance.

“Are you drinking my cocoa?”

“I’m trying it out. Just to be sure. In case of poison or something like that.”

You both laughed as he took another sip, humming in delight.

“You could have asked for a hot chocolate instead of tea!” you admonished, but didn’t try to take the cup from him, too happy to see him smiling to even think about it.

God, he could steal the entire beverage, as long as he kept on smiling like that… happy, and soft, and welcoming, calling for a smile of your own to answer his…

“Tastes better when it’s yours,” he laughed, all mischief and cheekiness while he looked at you and drank a third sip, a tiny one, just to get on your nerves.

The charm was broken though when one of the children running around bumped into him and made Andrew spill a little bit of chocolate across his chin. You burst into laughter.

“Well, that was… hot,” you teased while Andrew tried to hide his mouth and chin with his hand, looking around for a napkin of some kind. “Literally, I mean. It must be hot. Graciously so.”

“I hate you,” he glowered without any animosity in his gaze, making you laugh harder as you finally handed him one of the paper towels set on the coffee table.

On the other side of the room, people were playing a board game, but you felt better like this. Just you and Andrew chatting around a cocoa, or what was left of it. No one was truly paying attention to you, or so you had thought… among the five people who were casually chatting in small groups around the coffee table, it was easy to notice that all around the room, if gazes were directed towards your small group, it was to stare at Andrew and you.

Was Andrew aware of that scrutiny? Of the gazes fixed upon you?

“You’re okay?” he asked, frowning slightly, and you wished you could ease the crease between his brow with a brush of your thumb.

“Sure. I’m fine. Just… I think people are kind of watching us,” you added in a whisper no one could eavesdrop, leaning closer to him in the process.

He hummed, slowly nodding.

“Yeah, I think we’re kind of… the new thing.”

You bit your lip before making your next request, and you were surprised to notice that his eyes lingered on your mouth until you spoke.

“Is that okay if we act like…?” you left your question suspended in mid-air.

He nodded again, in silence, and there it was again, the flash of pain turning the hazel into full green…

You noticed the sharp intake of breath he took before finally speaking, the way his eyes narrowed just a little, for a second, while he hesitated… but then the words were out all the same, making his pale cheeks turn a bright shade of pink.

“Can I… tug that strand of hair behind your ear?”

You struggled to swallow and nodded, it was your time to be silent, you couldn’t trust your voice.

He was leaning closer when he lifted his arm towards you, shifting to be facing you, both of you sitting on a sofa that was too comfortable and too familiar for you to feel this tensed, almost frightened.

“You’re sure that’s alright?” Andrew asked again, and this time you let out a faint yes along with your nod.

Frightened wasn’t the right word though. You weren’t scared at all, in fact, you felt absolutely safe with Andrew sitting so close to you, your bodies almost touching, but not quite, just far enough to leave you longing to close these gaps. Slowly, his hand was lifted, all the way up to your face, pushing back a loose strand of hair behind your ear. He was staring at you, something that went beyond softness, beyond the usual tenderness his gaze adorned when it fell on you. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, guess what it meant. But then again, his thumb was brushing your cheek, and the ghostly touch made you too dizzy, anyway.

He leaned closer, unbearably closer, until his lips were next to your ear, his fingers moving to hold your face in place, palm cradling your jaw.

“Can I… Can I kiss your cheek?”

You were certain that your heart could not take more of this, of his intoxicating cologne, of the warmth of his skin across yours, of the delicate breath fanning across your ear…

You reached up for something, anything to hold onto, and your fingers met his woollen jumper, attached themselves to it as if holding a safe line.

“Yes, you can,” you answered despite your shaking voice and the fact that you had no air left in your lungs whatsoever.

Your rational brain wanted to remind you that this was not real, that it was all for show… but the world had vanished the second he had leaned closer. No… no, before that. When he had stared at you in this gentle way, when his hand had risen towards your face. You couldn’t even remember that you were at your parents’, in fact, you couldn’t remember your own name. Your entire world was being rewritten because this man was holding you close, a palm cradling your jaw while the other found its way to your waist; because he was moving slowly away, only to come back closer than ever, lips resting on your cheek. You closed your eyes the second his lips found your skin, their warmth coursing through your entire frame it seemed, his beard slightly tickling you, just enough to make it all the more endearing. He lingered there for what anyone would consider too long, but when you thought he was about to pull away, his lips merely hovered above your cheek, close enough for you to feel their warmth still, and the hurried breaths he exhaled. And then he was kissing your cheekbone again, and again, and with each resting of his lips upon you, you tightened your hold on his jumper, your free hand coming to rest right against his heart, in the end…

You both jumped at the sharp sound of something falling, glass breaking. As you turned, you noticed that someone had dropped a glass of water to the floor. Nothing too bad, your father was already heading towards the kitchen to clean up the mess that was made. Craig didn’t have a drink.

Before you could analyse the situation in depth, though, Andrew was turning his attention back onto you, and you had no choice but to look at him again too. You remained perfectly still for a moment, hazel eyes meeting your gaze in an unreadable expression, his hands still on you…

And then you both realised how close you were, how easy it would be to just lean a little further and to close the gap between your lips…

And you pulled away in a jolt, startled by your nearness, like two teenagers caught red-handed by an adult.

Andrew cleared his throat, rubbing his palms on his dark jeans, shifting like he didn’t know what to do with his own body all over again.

“I should… help clean the mess…” you mumbled, stuttering slightly, while Andrew was nodding and humming, averting his gaze.

You did just that, hurrying towards the table and picking up pieces of broken glass while your brain remained stuck on the feeling of Andrew’s beard on your skin, the softness of his lips, the way he held you closer…

Your heart was still pounding, your breath catching in your throat every now and then; in fact, every time you thought about his fingers slipping to your hair…

“Let’s throw all these away, darling,” your mother told you, nodding towards the shards in your palm.

You stood straighter without a word, headed for the kitchen…

… to fall face to face with Craig.

Wonderful…

“Sorry about the glass,” he said, breathless for some reason.

“Oh, you’re the one who broke it? Don’t worry about it, my parents have plenty of those. As long as you didn’t cut yourself…”

“I did, actually.”

You took a closer look, and indeed, he was pouring cold water onto a cut across his thumb. Nothing worth worrying about, but it would be quite painful and bothersome for a few days, still. The cut was long and clean, if not too deep.

You had walked closer to inspect the wound, and you didn’t notice the way he stared at you.

“It’s not too bad, but it must hurt.”

“No, it’s alright. I’m just waiting for it to stop bleeding.”

“You should press something on it, then.”

You handed him a napkin, which he rolled around his finger as he thanked you. You finally noticed that you were alone in the kitchen, that everybody else was still in the living room either chatting or cleaning up the mess Craig had made.

“Actually, I… I wanted to talk to you, just us…”

You silently encouraged him to continue, but you were taken aback at the passion and hurt in his eyes when your two gazes locked together.

“I… Is it serious? With Andrew, I mean?”

“Yeah… yes! Of course, it’s serious. Why?”

He shrugged, but you saw the way he clenched his jaw.

“It’s just… you’ve been friends for years… why now?”

You shrugged, feeling uncomfortable now… and you blamed it on a lie, but you knew it was because of the longing that was stuck in your heart, and had been dormant there for too long for you to count.

“I don’t know… the timing was always wrong. He wasn’t single, I wasn’t single, he was touring, I was busy… we kind of… were never on the same page, you know? We… our lives never managed to align.”

Slowly, Craig nodded.

“But this time, your lives are aligning?”

“Yeah! I mean… we’re both single, both staying in Ireland for more than a couple of weeks… we… we both want the same things.”

“And what is that?”

“What’s what?”

“That ‘thing’. Whatever it is that you want, what is it?”

You struggled to swallow, looking for a lie, an answer, anything to say. And a weight fell on your chest as the earnest answer flashed before you, taking the shape of two hazel eyes, unruly curls, soft-spoken words and an infectious laugh…

You thought you wanted some revenge. To make Craig jealous, for him to regret leaving you… but the truth was, you had wanted another man all along. And you still couldn’t have him. It was only a game of pretence.

What a terrible idea, this whole fake-relationship scheme…

Craig took a step closer to you, bringing your bodies so close, as you looked up at him, he was but a breath away.

“What do you want? Why are you with him? Of all people, why Andrew, and why now? Do you want to know what I think about all this?”

You frowned at his tone, crossing your arms before your chest, a glare starting to cover your features.

“Oh, enlighten me!” you replied with challenge in your voice.

But Craig didn’t back down. He only leant closer.

“I think you’re trying to make me jealous. I think you’re not over us. I think that deep down, you still want me. And you turned to your best friend as a rebound. But you’ll be tired of him in a couple of months.”

You shook your head, but your ex still went on.

“Look, I know that what I did was horrible, okay? I… Samantha was a mistake… but we could still have this. You and I, we… we were great together.”

You scoffed, taking a step back, shaking your head some more in amazement. The guy had balls, you had to give him that, at least.

“A mistake you’re about to celebrate your first anniversary with…” you replied, tone acidic and bearing no regrets for it.

“Y/N…”

“No! I don’t know what you’re trying to do right now, but you’re wrong, that’s for sure. I… you cheated on me! With my cousin! How could you possibly imagine that I would want to give you another chance?!”

He heaved a sigh, and you thought he would give in, but he didn’t, on the contrary. This was only the first round.

“So what? You’re bringing Andrew here and playing perfect couple just to get under my skin? To make me pay? To show me what I’ve lost?”

You looked for something to say, but couldn’t deny the plain truth.

“Because I already know what I’ve lost, okay?” Craig went on, tears shining in his eyes. “I know that. I don’t need you to pretend to be in love with someone else to see that.”

You let out a shaky breath. You could have walked away, but it felt good to let the truth out. A day spent telling nothing but lies, it was a relief to reveal the truth, even if it was but a fragment.

“You’re wrong. I love Andrew. In fact… I’ve loved him for years.”

He frowned at that, but you went on, a tear escaping your eyes that you didn’t even notice flowing down your cheek. You had been lying to yourself for a long time, pretending that all this made sense, that it was alright, that you were happy and content as Andrew’s friend. In truth, you were anything but happy, anything but content. And today, pretending to be his, pretending that he was yours… it only showed you more clearly that this was what you wanted. What you had always wanted. What you couldn’t have, perhaps, but what you needed.

It was a confession spoken to Craig, but made for you.

“I’ve been in love with Andrew for years. I’ve had relationships because… I wanted to forget him. Thought I could. Thought it was nothing but an infatuation, then nothing but a crush, and then nothing but a meaningless unrequited love that I would get over quickly. But the truth is, you were the band-aid, Craig. And he’s the one I’ve always wanted. And you know what? You’re right. Coming here with Andy today I… I wanted to come with him because I didn’t want to have to face you and Samantha on my own. Didn’t want to have to bear everybody’s stares and pity thinking I was the poor victim of a tragedy… And I wanted you to see that I was fine without you. That I deserved better than the way you treated me. That I… That I was worth keeping, and loving. But I… at the end of the day, if this afternoon has shown me anything, it’s that I don’t need you. I don’t want you. And I don’t give two fucks about you and Samantha. So… let’s be cordial, as we must, as you’re still part of the family for as long as you’ll be dating my cousin, but… I’m over you, Craig. I’m over all of this. And if there is one thing I want in this world, it’s Andy.”

Before Craig could say anything, before you could even process his reaction, you were storming out of the room. Or at least, you tried to. Because you had taken but a couple of steps towards the door, when Craig held you back, holding onto your wrist.

“Really? Is that how you feel?” he asked, clearly hurt, but also unmistakably angry. “I don’t believe you.”

“What?”

“I don’t believe you. You and Andy? I don’t believe it. I can’t believe it. You’re faking it. You’re lying now and for what? To hurt me?”

You didn’t say anything, instead, you merely broke free. Walked out of the kitchen, angry and annoyed and not thinking straight but with a decision taken anyway…

“Andy?”

When you looked around, he wasn’t on the sofa anymore.

“Yes?”

You turned around again. He was right there, by the table, wet napkins in hand, as he had clearly been helping cleaning up the mess your ex had made, standing not too far from the door to the kitchen, your mother by his side while everyone was turning towards you.

He frowned slightly as you hurried towards him, making a bee line to reach him, not caring that everyone was staring at the two of you. Instead, you didn’t think, forgot about the world, focused your attention on Andrew and his unruly curls and the confusion in his hazel eyes, and the way his lips slightly parted as you approached. And then, you took his face in your hands, pulled him down and rose to your tiptoes to meet him halfway, and you kissed him.

You crashed your lips against his, nothing graceful in the gesture, but desperation pouring from every inch of you. You were taken aback though, by the quiet huff he let out, your brain finally kicking in again, and thinking that this was crazy, a terrible idea, and more than anything else, highly inappropriate…

… but Andrew quickly recovered from the initial shock, and before you could pull away and profusely apologise, he had dropped the napkins that hit the floor in a thud, and his arms were wrapping around your frame, pulling you to him. You felt his eyelashes brushing your skin as he closed his eyes, leaning into your kiss, moving his lips over yours to compliment your own movements. And if he was more graceful about it, softer than your rushed gesture, he poured such passion into the kiss that your knees grew weak, and you rested your weight on him, leaning into his chest.

It was over too soon, though, interrupted by the sound of someone – probably one of your parents, or your pain of an uncle – clearing their throat. Andrew was the one pulling away, clearing his throat as well as he took a step back, although one of his hands remained at your waist.

He was blushing when you opened your eyes. And you suddenly wanted to leave. To just go and disappear and pretend like you had not broken the best friendship you had ever had and that the man you loved would not hate you from now on for kissing him like that and that you had not humiliated yourself in front of your entire family…

But as you were about to speak, Craig was hissing from somewhere behind Andrew, making him turn around. Before his attention was pulled away from you, you noted the way Andrew was looking at you. Intensely, a little stunned too, like he wasn’t sure that it had happened, that you had truly kissed him, and yet, like he was searching for answers in your eyes…

But then he turned to face Craig. He had barely turned towards him, though, that your ex was grabbing Andrew by the collar, and pushing him against the nearest wall, Andrew’s hand leaving its resting spot on your hip in the process.

“YOU SON OF A BITCH!” Craig shouted, the whole room too stunned to react while Andrew’s back collided with the wall, a hollow sound ensuing and making a couple of framed pictures shake with the strength of the impact.

“Get off me!” Andrew merely replied through his teeth, struggling to break free, but fighting had never been his strong suit…

“You fucking BASTARD!”

“Craig!”

The first people were finally reacting, hurrying to pull your ex away, but he kept them at bay, trying to keep on pushing Andrew against the wall.

“You were just waiting for your turn, you son of bitch! Dickhead! You were just waiting to get a chance to fuck that bitch!”

Andrew’s expression hardened, and this time, when he reached for Craig, it wasn’t to pull at his hands, but to grab the collar of your ex’s shirt and violently pull as well.

“Don’t you fucking dare insult her like that!” he growled, with such anger and threat, a tone you had never heard on his voice before.

“Both of you, stop!” your father ordered.

“Stop this! What are you doing?” you added, tugging at both their arms, but none of them seemed to care.

Instead, Craig went on, pushing on all of Andrew’s buttons…

“I can’t believe she did run straight into your bed like a whore…”

Before anyone could react, Andrew was pushing Craig away with so much force that he stumbled backwards and fell down.

For a second time, the whole room was too stunned to react, while Craig staggered back to his feet. Andrew moved away from the wall, and as your ex stood straighter again he was glaring at him, jaw tightly clenched. You had never seen so much wrath on his features before.

But it wasn’t over. Craig threw Andrew only one look before he was bending over and running to him, tackling him and making him fall back easily. You gasped at the loud sound of Andy’s head hitting the tiles.

Too stunned to move, Andrew didn’t even try to avoid Craig’s punch, and he got hit straight across the jaw. Thankfully, hands were then pulling Craig off of Andrew. You didn’t care though. You didn’t pay attention to your father and one of your aunts pushing Craig into the kitchen while shouting at him. You didn’t notice your cousin hurrying to join him, clearly worried. All you could do was to fall on your knees by Andrew’s side, holding onto his shoulders and gently shaking him while he blinked, clearly disoriented.

“Andy! Andy, you’re okay? Can you hear me?” you asked in a rush.

His unfocused gaze finally found you, and he blinked some more. You thought he was about to faint.

“Andy! Stay with me! Are you alright?”

Your hands moved from his shoulders to his cheeks. He took hold on your right wrist, touch firm and yet gentle still.

“Y/N…”

“You’re okay? Andy?”

“I’m okay.”

“You’re sure? How’s your head? Do you feel dizzy?”

“A little bit. I’m okay though.”

“Really?”

Slowly, he nodded. Your mother appeared by your side, asked Andrew how he felt as well. His answer was to slowly sit up. He looked exhausted, all of a sudden, paler than usual, but there was no cut across the back of his head, merely the beginning of a bump.

“I’m fine,” he repeated.

You helped him to his feet, your mother checking that he was unharmed too.

“I’m so sorry,” he apologised, but your mother was quick to dismiss it all with a wave of her hand.

“It’s not your fault, dear. Let’s seat you down on the sofa for a moment.”

“No, I’m… I’m fine.”

Samantha walked out of the kitchen, crying, and you wondered why. Or actually, you didn’t. You didn’t want to know. You didn’t want to stay for a minute longer in the same room as either her or Craig.

“Actually, I think we should go,” you interjected, and Andrew nodded.

“No, please… Craig is going to be kicked out, don’t worry about him,” your mother argued.

“No, really, I… I want to go home. Please, I want to go home.”

You were on the verge of tears, and so you turned towards the hallway, followed by your mother’s protests, along with some of your other relatives’ kind words. But you wanted to run now, disappear and leave all of them behind. You were tired of being looked at… you needed to be on your own for a while.

Meanwhile, Andrew was remaining silent. He only spoke to apologise once again to your family, clearly ashamed. You left before Craig could be let out of the kitchen, and were close to running to your car.

You climbed in, Andrew following suit in the passenger seat. You drove on, heading for home. You should have taken Andrew to his house, but you didn’t even think about it. The thought never came. You simply headed home, and Andrew didn’t protest, even though he obviously recognized the road you were taking.

Only when you arrived before your building did you realise that Andrew was still here, the ride had been filled with nothing but silence.

“You should come in, I’ll take a look at your jaw.”

Indeed, a bruise was forming under his beard, colouring the sharp angle of his face with yellowish hues.

“It’s nothing. Nothing broken.”

“Please, come in. Please…”

You stared at each other for a moment, but he yielded, nodding, at long last. You waited for him to climb out of your small car, and he held on the door before closing it, wincing as he unfolded his tall frame.

“You’re sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, just… a little dizzy, that’s all.”

“You need to go to the hospital?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, it was just a punch.”

“And a hit on the head.”

“Thick skull. Don’t you know that already?”

You both chuckled, while Andrew followed you inside your home.

You rid yourself of your shoes and coat, aiming straight for the freezer to get a bag of frozen vegetables there. Andrew was by your side, leaning against the kitchen counter. He didn’t protest when you gently rested the cold bag against his jaw, merely winced at the sharp sensation.

“Thanks,” he breathed, staring right into your eyes.

But you didn’t acknowledge his words. Instead, your world got blurred by tears.

“You… are you angry?”

But Andrew shook his head.

“No. No, I’m not angry.”

“You should be.”

“Probably.”

“You… you had to lie all day long because of me, and then I kissed you without your permission and you probably hated that, and then you punched Craig, and you got punched in the face… all because of me. I’m a lousy friend.”

“The worst,” he corrected you, but there was a tender smile on his lips.

“You should be angry.”

“I’m not.”

“You should hate me.”

“I don’t. And I…”

A pause. He seemed out of breath for a second, wetted his lips, before he went on.

“I liked it, by the way.”

“What?”

“Your kiss. I… I didn’t hate it. I liked it. A lot.”

Your eyes merely grew round, and Andrew looked away, averting his eyes. He heaved a painful sigh.

“I told you this would be a terrible idea,” he pointed out.

“I know.”

“And you didn’t listen.”

“I know.”

“And now… what are we going to do now?”

You had no answer to give, you were plagued by this same question yourself.

A moment of silence, suspended in mid-air. Outside, the quiet of cars passing by and the wind flowing through branches and pushing clouds around. Inside, the cold of the bag making your fingers ache, a welcomed burn to distract your busy mind, while Andrew was taking a sharp inhale.

“I heard you, you know?”

His voice was quiet, low and deeper than usual. He blinked, focusing on you again, trapping you into these hazel orbs you adored.

“When you talked to Craig, in the kitchen. I heard you. I was right behind the door.”

“That’s creepy,” you tried to deflect the impact of that revelation with humour, speaking the silliest thing you could have uttered. It still made Andrew break, laughing despite his best effort not to.

“I was sent to put the napkins away. But then… I heard you. Didn’t interrupt. Wanted to know what you would say.”

He narrowed his eyes a little, the ghost of a frown forming a crease across his brow.

“Did you mean any of that? Or was that just… one more lie?”

The bag of vegetables slipped from the hold of your numb fingers and fell, but Andrew stopped you as you reached for it, holding your face in his hands to force you to look at him.

“Did you mean what you said? About me? About us?”

“What does it matter?”

He knitted his brows, tightening his hold on you. You noticed the way his breathing stuttered, grew shallower.

“What does it matter?” he repeated. “Are you serious?”

“You don’t feel that for me. So… what does it matter?”

He let out a shaky breath, almost a sigh.

“Why did you kiss me like that, though?” you asked, tears shining in your eyes but you were determined not to let them fall. Your tone was almost bitter as you questioned him. “On the couch. You kissed my cheek… God, that was so much more than what it should have been…”

He blinked, trying to read behind your words for their true meaning. He didn’t find it, reached in the dark and his hand closed on nothing.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you. I just… I didn’t mean to.”

“Why did you kiss me like that? That was so out of line…”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry…”

“Why did you do that?”

Slowly, he shook his head. He looked almost stunned by your question.

“You really don’t know?”

He leaned back against the counter, and pulled you with him, until your faces were so close, you could feel his breath fanning over your lips.

“You really don’t know?” he asked again.

“I don’t know…”

“Did you mean it? When you said… when you said that you wanted me. Did you mean it?”

“I said a bit more than that…”

“I’m not foolish enough to hope for the rest to be true as well, I’ll settle for a ‘I vaguely like you’.”

It was your turn to chuckle even if you didn’t want to.

“If I answer earnestly, you’re going to hate me for wanting more and breaking our friendship.”

He shook his head, leaning closer, until his forehead rested upon yours. At long last, you reached up, holding on his forearms for support, and to make sure he wouldn’t go away…

You heard him wincing as he spoke, heard it in the way his voice was shaking. You had closed your eyes, and so had he.

“Let’s be honest with each other. Please… I’m tired of pretending. I’m tired of denying the way I feel for you, or what I want when it comes to you, I’m tired… I’m tired of letting you slip away. So, please. Please be honest with me. I can’t keep on holding onto some mad hope. I can’t keep on pretending that I don’t… That I…”

He struggled to breathe for a moment, you tightened your hold on his arms but remained there, eyes closed, leaning against him.

“I kissed you like that because… because I wanted to. Because I let myself slip into yielding. Because I couldn’t help it. Because… because it hurt so fucking much to hold you like this, to be close to you in this way, to act the way I have longed for for years under some pretence, under a mask, as a lie… when it wasn’t a lie. When I… I wish it wasn’t a lie. I wish it could be for real.”

He sighed, long and painful and full of hurt, and you reached up to kiss him before he could say anything else.

If your first kiss at your parents’ house had been passionate and quite messy because of it, this one was slow, taking its time to learn each other’s taste and lips and mouth. You had no idea for how long you kissed, all you knew was that, while it lasted, there was nothing else in the world but Andrew kissing you; and that when it ended, you longed for it to start again.

“I meant it,” you whispered, bearing your soul in a confession that was so raw you couldn’t summon anything but a murmur, eyes still closed and lips barely parted from his. “What I told Craig, I meant it. I mean it. I want you… And this whole day has been torture for me too.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry it took me so long, I’m sorry I didn’t say anything.”

“I didn’t either…”

“I almost said it a thousand times. Never had the courage.”

“Please… have it now, and kiss me again.”

He obliged, without protest or hesitation. You were lost in his embrace all over again, and rested your head against his chest when you eventually pulled away.

“So… what now?” you asked, voice muffled by his cardigan.

“We could go on a date.”

“I want to be wined and dined, just so you know,” you joked, making him chuckle.

“Duly noted. Anything else, for her ladyship?”

“I don’t know… I’m… I’m so fucking scared, to be honest.”

“Because everything is going to change?”

“Because it might not work out. Because… you might leave me, and I might give up and a thousand things can go wrong, and…”

But he softly shushed you, running his hand through your hair.

"Look, I… I’m not going to pretend that I’m not scared to bits by this. I feel like we have so much to lose. But I… I want you so badly. I want you so much, I’m ready to take the risk. We can take things slow, we don’t have to rush through this. I just… I feel like I'm truly myself when I'm with you. I want to be myself when I'm with you. So now, if you're scared, don't call it love yet. But whatever you want to call it, it's incredible, and I'm not going to give up on this. I'm not going to give up on us. I can promise you that, at least. That I’m ready to fight for this, for you.”

He was surprised by your chuckle.

“You’ve fought already. If you can call it a fight…”

“Yeah, exactly. I mean… he was about to seriously kick my arse but I did have a few seconds of manly glory there.”

You both laughed at that, the tension receding as a result.

“Perhaps, at the end of the day, that plan of mine wasn’t so bad,” you joked, making Andrew laugh harder, shaking his head.

“It was definitely a terrible idea. The worst idea you’ve ever had. Look at all the trouble it has caused!”

“Are you calling me trouble?”

“Of the worst kind.”

You were happy about this kind of trouble though, as Andrew was leaning down to kiss you once more, holding you close, unwilling to ever let go.

#hozier #andrew hozier byrne #hozier x reader #hozier x you #hozier x yn #hozier fanfiction #hozier fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #hozier oneshot #oneshot

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lis-likes-fics · 11 months

Text

A Deal’s a Deal

Pairings: Tommy Shelby x Gold!Reader Word Count: 11.7k words Warnings: NSFW, smut, swearing, smoking, oral (f and m!receiving), dom/sub themes, degradation, virgin!reader, gun kink, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, Tommy is mean and she wants him to be ... A/N: So this was absolutely filthy and I will not apologize. I am American, but I used to British spelling for (as many of) the words that I caught because sometimes I like it better and it also just fit more for the fic. Also, when I say “gun kink”, I mean gun kink. This is filthy shit. Who knows? I may consider writing a second... Enjoy.

Keen eyes were the first thing Tommy noticed as Aberama Gold walked onto the yard, a sly smirk set in place among blond hair and a suit likely just as expensive as his own. The way his eyes surveyed the yard, examined every inch he could without touching any of it, even stopping by Charlie for a word, made Tommy aware it was for more than just surveillance.

Aberama finally approached, his men following after with their own vigilance. "I just took a look around. I like this place," he announced. "Fire for melting silver, canal to get it away." He stopped in front of him, well out of reach but just as imposing as the growing headache Tommy felt nagging at the back of his head. "How much?"

Tommy took a long look at him, still as a statue as blue eyes pierced through blue eyes. He considered not even regarding the question, moving on to more pressing business and pretending it had never been asked, but he knew better. Arthur drank from his flask.

"Nothing you see here is for sale, Mr. Gold."

He disagreed. "Oh, everything's for sale. Everything."

Tommy pinched his cigarette between his fingers, bringing it to his lips but not quite slipping it through yet. Aberama spilled the rest of the tea in his cup into the fire, which roared with the fuel to its flames.

"You tell Mr. Strong I'm going to buy his yard." He didn't leave room for debate.

But Tommy didn't care. "This yard has been in his family since they settled." He moved the cigarette between his lips.

"But I've decided to make it a part of our deal."

There was a long pause as the men stared each other down, testing the other's strength, their tolerance of cold eyes. The sounds of metal and fire and cups on tables next to them filled the silence and fueled the suspense of a standoff.

"Charlie?" Tommy finally spoke, calling to his uncle. "Charlie, come here." He obliged with a sigh. As he stood next to him with a dirty rag to clean dirty hands, Tommy continued. "Gonna spin a coin for your yard, Charlie."

Frustration was quick to settle at his words. He dropped his hands at his sides. "You're goin' to what?"

Tommy didn't spare him a glance, never breaking contact with Aberama as he spoke. "If it's heads, Abbie here takes all of this with my blessing."

"Tommy?" Charlie warned, upset.

"And if it's tails…" he considered for a moment, gesturing to Aberama with his cigarette in hand, "I fuck your daughter, Mr. Gold."

Aberama's grin fell. Arthur laughed, a stifled laugh into his arm at the offer. Tommy's demeanour did not change.

Now, Tommy was a smart man who did his research. He knew all about Aberama Gold's family, but more specifically about his daughter—and, even more specifically, about his oldest. He knew she was a primary school teacher, how that came to be, he was sure it was with the help of her father. He knew she was Aberama's firstborn, born from another woman he'd fallen for but lost too quick to be left without love. Lastly, he knew she was without a husband, or even a suitor with the potential of wedding bells. With how beautiful you had been rumoured to be, he didn't understand it.

He was shocked he hadn't already had you yet.

"You have three daughters, I hear, and Y/N is the oldest and also the prettiest, so I'll have her. So make her part of the deal and spin against the yard." He replaced his cigarette between his lips, putting his hands in his pockets.

Arthur was still amused. The same could not be said for Charlie as he stepped closer. "Tommy, for fuck's sake."

Tommy fished for a coin in his pocket, flicking it over. "Here, you toss the coin, Mr. Gold."

He caught it easily, staring down Tommy before moving the coin in his palm to examine it thoughtfully. Then he smiled, a slow smile spreading over his lips, ready to call a bluff.

Tommy shook his head, just as serious and solemn as before as he took in his grin. "No." He shook his head, raising a finger to point at him with grim intent. "Please don't believe this is a joke, the coin to us is sacred. Yes, Arthur?"

"Sacred," Arthur agreed, his eyes as still and as menacing as his brother's.

They continued to stare. Aberama continued to think.

Tommy gave his warning. "You toss that coin, you take a bet before witnesses, and if I win…"

"Then we'll insist that the terms of this agreement…" Arthur tried again, "wager are fulfilled."

Tommy's eyes held a threat. "Toss the coin, Mr. Gold."

Aberama considered, setting the coin on the crook of his finger and propping his thumb underneath. He contemplated, debating himself and his luck silently as the sounds of metal and fire raged against the silence and pulled the tension taut. Loud, defeaning.

"Tommy Shelby, OBE," he mumbled, still considering. Tommy saw the moment of decision behind his eyes before it reached his face. The challenge, the question of "Perhaps?" warring in his mind. Aberama smiled a small smile. "I'll take your wager."

The Shelby boys tilted up their heads.

Aberama flipped the coin into the air, watching as it twirled and twirled and twirled. The coin made its descent into his hands and he sighed as he closed his palm and slapped it onto the back of his hand. The coin seared his flesh as he stared at Tommy, hoping to see the right side of the coin staring back at him when he unveiled the result.

They stared, tense. "Well?" Tommy raised a brow.

Aberama removed his hand.

And his luck drained as he stared down at the coin tails up to the world.

He lingered for a moment, feeling the eyes on him burning into his skin just as the coin did. "...Congratulations, Mr. Shelby," he breathed. He took the coin and showed the boys. "Tails."

Tommy's lip twitched, although it was hardly susceptible to the eye. "Tails," he repeated, his voice darker than before. He readjusted his stance, regarding Aberama as he spoke to the uncle at his side. "Go on back to work, Charlie. Your yard is safe."

Charlie stepped closer, asking the question as though he was whispering it just to him. "Are you actually going to fuck his daughter, Tom?"

Tommy still didn't look at Charlie, watching Aberama intensely, as if to remind him that this was all his fault.

People seemed to forget who he was. They seemed to forget that you shouldn't fuck around with Tommy fucking Shelby, OBE.

"A deal's a deal, Charlie," he said. "Isn't that right, Mr. Gold?"

He stared back with fire in his eyes. "Aye, Mr. Shelby."

The cab slowed to a stop in front of the large estate you were an expected guest in. Looking out of the window and through the dark, your stomach flipped at the prospect of the meeting you were meant to attend.

Your father had told you that the infamous Thomas Shelby was interested in meeting you. You were grading loads of papers at the time when you stopped to look at him, frozen in confusion. You asked him why and he brushed off the topic like he hadn't even brought it up, giving you a time and date and leaving it at that.

And now you're here, staring at his house and feeling the anxiety of how this evening would go as you stepped out of the car and watched him drive off. You fixed your dress, straightened your spine, and released a breath before beginning the looming evening with a walk up to the door through the dark, guided only by the lamps outside.

You clicked the knocker three times, waiting with your clutch held tightly in front of you. As the door was pulled open, you were somehow relieved to be met with an older woman. Though her blue eyes were shocking and her quirked brow was intimidating, she offered a kind smile and you were put to ease.

You really shouldn't have been as anxious as you were. You were a Gold and a gypsy—if something bad was going to happen to you, you would know and you wouldn't be there in the first place.

But this was Thomas Shelby, and you were terrified. He was rumoured to be the devil himself.

The woman opened the door wider. "Hello." She looked you up and down before stepping aside. "Come in."

You thanked her quietly, walking into the house and glancing around. It was nice. "How may I help you this late in the night?" she wondered, clasping her hands behind her as she awaited your answer.

"Um…" You smiled bashfully but not without the air of respect you've grown into and been taught to demand. "I don't actually know why I'm here. My father, Aberama Gold, sent me to see Tommy Shelby. I am to have an appointment with him?"

She hummed, "Of course. Wait here while I go fetch him." She began to walk off before correcting herself, looking back at you with a respectful smile. "Would you like a cup of tea while you wait?"

"No, thank you."

She left.

You stood in the foyer, twiddling your thumbs atop your clutch as your heart skips in your chest. With a calming breath, you steadied yourself, closing your eyes and waiting patiently.

You swung a foot out, taking a step forward as you wandered farther down the hall to see inside the main room. It was large, decorated sparsely with paintings and tiny statuettes. You didn't get a good look.

When she came back, she was not alone. Turning at the sound of shoes descending stairs, you saw him.

He still wore a suit. Although his jacket was removed, his timepiece was still in place connected to its chain. His sleeves were rolled up—you weren't sure why you noticed that so clearly.

He stared at you with a cigarette between his lips as his cold, blue eyes pierced your soul. Your heart jumped again. Anxious.

He watched you, looking you up and down and taking you in. He brought his hand up to remove his cigarette from between his lips, releasing a long, smoky breath. The look in his eyes shook you.

"Thank you, Mary." His voice was deep as it rumbled in his chest. "You can go to bed now."

Mary looked you up and down briefly. She bowed her head. "Yes, sir."

You didn't break eye contact with Tommy as she ascended the stairs. Even when she was completely gone, he didn't look away. The intensity of his gaze was hard to keep up.

You looked away.

"Come," he finally spoke, walking down the rest of the stairs and meeting you. He lingered in front of you for a moment, as if he just wanted a closer look, before continuing to move. You willed your feet to do so, following slowly behind him.

He took you to his study just off from the main room, pushing the door open to allow you inside. You entered silently, glancing along the room to take it in. He had a library, a burning fireplace, plenty of sofas, and a large wall of windows. The drapes were already drawn for the night, and the large room was illuminated by a small chandelier. You set your purse on the nearest table.

You watched Tommy walk toward his desk in front of the windows. He leaned on it, crossing one leg in front of the other. He stared at you again, and you quickly became frustrated with his gaze as you sighed gently and stood across from him, keeping plenty of distance.

Silence stretched on as he continued to stare and smoke, and you were growing impatient as you stared back. The longer he watched you, unyielding, the more you felt the need to squirm. It was only when you broke his eye contact again, like you had before on the stairs, that he decided to speak.

"Do you know why you're here, Miss Gold?" he asked.

Now that this was finally going somewhere, you sighed. "Y/N, and no," you replied.

He raised his brows. "What did your father tell you, Y/N?"

You shrugged. "That you wanted to meet me and nothing else." His vagueness was really beginning to frustrate you after enduring all of that staring. Why had he stared for so long?

Tommy hummed deep in his chest, looking you up and down with a little nod of his head. He put it bluntly as he gestured toward you with his cigarette. "Your father lied."

It was your turn to raise your brows. "I'm sorry?"

Tommy reached behind him to put his cigarette out, stifling it against the ashtray on his desk. "Your father flipped a coin for a bit of property and lost. In return," he looked at you again, speaking slowly, "he gave you to me to fuck."

Your heart was slamming into your ribcage at the knowledge. Images of such a thing flashed behind your eyes, and your throat went dry. You looked down at your shoes for a moment, blinking rapidly as you stretched your jaw. "I-I don't understand," you confessed, releasing a humourless chuckle and licking your lips. "He… he wouldn't do that."

"Wouldn't he?" he shrugged. When you didn't reply, he furrowed his brows. "Why else would you be here?"

You still didn't respond. He allowed you to process, though part of you felt like he was enjoying all of this, and you did not.

The anticipation started at your heart and spread through your body as it made a home in your chest, curling and writhing there in a bundle of anxious energy.

You swallowed thickly, "Are you going to hurt me, Mr. Shelby?"

He considered your question, mumbling quietly to himself as though he was mocking you, "Am I going to hurt you?" His eyes raked over your body, considering something silently in his head before he spoke again. "Come here."

You didn't move, otherwise frozen in place as you stared at him. Your disobedience seemed to astound him for a moment as he raised his dark brows and pointed to his shoes. "Here. Now." His voice was deeper with the command. He left no room for defiance.

Your body responded before your mind, not eager to see what would happen if you refused a second time. Your feet took you carefully toward him, slow steps treading the space between you until you were hardly a foot apart from him. His expression seemed to ease then, just enough to tell you that you were close enough now.

He took in your face from this distance. You could almost feel his breath. He spoke to you in a low voice, one that rumbled deep in his chest and resonated with you.

"I am a devil, but I'm no monster." Where you expected a crook of his finger to lift your chin, he gave you his hand to take a hold of your jaw and pull you close. "I won't force myself upon you, but if you agree to this, I will not be gentle. So, yes… I am going to hurt you."

You didn't respond—you couldn't. His words echoed in your mind and your mind warred with your body over what you would do in response and, thus, created none. You were frozen, staring at him as he held your face in a slight grip and held your attention in a much tighter one. You forget the fire burning smoke up its chimney. You forget the rows and rows of books lining the shelves of the office. You forget the clothes on your back, for his stare had stripped you bare for him to see.

He let go of your face, but you were not sure how well your brain registered that as you lingered in the same position, gripped in the same attention.

"If you want to leave," he said after a moment, "you'd better walk out of that door right now under the lie that the wager between your father and me was fulfilled. Hell, I'll even make you a cup of tea while you wait, and you can be on your way."

You considered that option. It would be like you never even came—except you did. And you knew you did. The stain of his stare, the hole he had burned into your clothes, into your skin, would never wash away. You would feel it every hour of every day as a reminder of the time you met the Tommy Shelby and lived not to tell the tale.

"But if you stay…" the corner of his lip twitched up at the idea, his pupils darkened and his voice deepened, "you're not leaving until I say you can." Even with their simplicity, his words made you shiver.

"Now, I will ask you once and one time only…" he leaned forward, his head very slightly tilted, his nose nearly brushing yours, "Are you leaving?"

As if you could say no with him this close to you. As if you could say anything with him this close to you.

Your options were idiotic.

Leave and live with the memories you gained here—the closeness, the silent obedience, the cold stare you could never wash from your soul. You would always feel it, feel him. He would never go away, plaguing your mind like a ghost of what could have been.

Or…you could stay. You could stay here and see what happened. You could let him ravage you, let him tear you apart and lick at your flesh and bone as he took you under his primal gaze. You could succumb to the ice in his eyes and let the burn of his touch mix together in some powerful, searing concoction. You would never wash his stain off, no matter how hard you scrubbed, but some part of you was alright with that.

And Tommy seemed to see that in your eyes.

He was amused as he shook his head, leaning back and away from you. He was teasing, you knew it now, heavily amused by the tiny reactions he earned from you as he pulled away to make you suffer a hint of withdrawal. It was with that distance that you realised you'd fallen in his trap, gone in too deep to turn back and be rescued from this tragic and ungodly addiction.

"No, you're not," he said—and, for a moment, you forget what he was talking about. "I can see it in your eyes, the same look your father had before he flipped that coin. You want to know what'll happen if you stay."

You seemed to snap out of it almost as you took a step back, establishing a bit more space as he revealed things you didn't want revealed. In doing so, you proved his point.

"You know exactly what happens if you leave. You go back to your regular life as a school teacher with siblings and a father to take care of." He chuckled silently, and you clenched your teeth. "No, you want to see how far this will go."

He raked his eyes over you for the hundredth time, and he knew the rumours were true. Pretty eyes, pretty lashes, pretty lips, pretty blushy cheeks. There was not a flaw on you that he could see. You were a beauty, an unconquered beauty he intended not to leave uncharted.

You looked away from him, glancing down between your feet and your hands and anywhere but his face as you processed his words, digesting them for what they were—the ugly truth you wished you could throw a blanket back over, swept back under the rug and hidden from view.

Tommy tilted his head as something dawned on him.

"Are you a virgin, Y/N?"

You kept your eyes on the ground, like you were watching his shoes—which you probably are—and shook your head. "I change my mind. You can call me Miss Gold." He could almost laugh at the idea, in fact, he almost did laugh. You brought yourself to look at him, your eyes stern with poorly hidden dismay. "And if I was?"

It made sense. No husband, no suitor, no time for one anyway. His lip lifted very slightly in the corner, and it felt like he was laughing at you. "The proper phrasing is 'and if you are?'" He leaned in, taunting you. "Because you are, Y/N."

You huffed to keep your eyes from fluttering at the effect he had on you. "How do you know?" you asked, doing your best not to sound as upset as you were. Your best was very poor.

He breathed a silent chuckle. "Because if I say the word 'sex'..."

You licked your lips and shifted your weight to your other leg, realising your mistake as soon as you made it but not showing it. You glanced away from him, and that was when you showed the realisation of your second mistake.

He pointed at you, ever amused. "You do that."

You thought for a moment over a way to say your next words without confessing anything—even if you knew it would be rendered unnecessary, as he seemed to read you like an open book.

"What if I did want to see what would happen?"

He inclined his head, lifting a brow. A small huff of a breath made up a tiny chuckle at your words. "Look at you," he said. "A good girl so bored she wants a go with a gangster."

You shrugged a shoulder. "All my family's gangsters and gypsies. It's in my blood."

He stared at you, cold and frozen like a statue. You stared back, gaze darting from eye to eye.

"In your blood," he muttered to himself.

You had no time to process what happened next. All you felt was his hand on the back of your neck and then your cheek against the cold wood of his desk. You groaned at the suddenness of it, stunning you completely—especially when his body pressed against the back of yours, crushing you against the desk and keeping you there.

Your breath was erratic, your pulse loud in your ears. Everything had happened so quickly, you were still catching up. The only thing that grounded you was the cold shock of something against the back of your head and the cock of a gun in your ears.

It was all suddenly very real—the anticipation, the suspense. You held your breath.

"Maybe I lied," he rasped in your ear, his voice just as dangerous as his gun to your head. "Maybe I want to see what's in your blood instead, eh?"

Your lips parted as shallow breaths passed between them, loud in your ears but likely nearly silent to him. You swallowed hard, frightened and exhilarated. "You're not going to kill me, Mr. Shelby."

"Oh, yeah? Why is that?" He seemed to press the gun even closer, trying to scare you some more. But you were a Gold, and guns to heads were not as effective to you as it might have been to someone else from a family that wasn't yours.

"Because you want to see what will happen."

Surprised by your answer, he scoffed. "Maybe you are a whore." He pushed his hips harder into you, thus pushing you harder against the desk. The edge of the wood cut into your thighs, aching and proving very uncomfortable. A strained breath grunted from you.

You smiled slyly, looking back at him as best you could. "Which is it?" you chuckled, "Whore or virgin?"

He took pause, shaking his head as he uncocked the gun. "No," he chuckled darkly. "Just a twisted little girl who gets off to guns at her head."

Your smirk dropped, amusement gone at his words. You furrow your brow, thoroughly upset that he would accuse you of something so crude. "I don't."

"No?" he asked before leaning in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear and making you shiver. "Then why are you so wet?"

You stilled. You hadn't realised it until he said it, the wetness between your thighs, the arousal hiding beneath your thundering pulse. That tingling sensation of simmering lust was now weighing down on you like an anvil, a terrible sentence you wanted to escape but found yourself physically incapable of. Your legs trembled, but you couldn't tell if it was from the ice or the fire rushing through your veins. God forbid it be both.

Your silence made him smirk against your ear. "You really are," he scoffed again. "That was just a guess, sweetheart."

You huffed, doing everything you could to avoid clenching your thighs. With how close he was to you, his body pressed against you so tightly, he'd surely feel it. The shame was thick enough as it was.

"Fuck you," you spat.

He was not fazed by your aggression. "I intend to."

With a sudden burst of defiance, you pushed yourself up from the desk, turning around to face him. Your faces were so close, breathing in each other's scent as the both of you refused to back down. You heard him uncock his gun, tossing it onto the table behind you without breaking eye contact.

"This isn't the first time I've had a gun to my head, nor will it be the last," you told him. "And it's definitely not the first time a man's expressed his desire to fuck me."

"But it's the first time he's been able to, eh? Because before you had Daddy's protection." His hand landed on your waist, roughly pulling you toward him so your bodies were touching. It was useless to try to hide to fluster he put you in, but you did your best anyway. His voice was nearly a growl. "Well, where is he now?"

You shook your head, breathing shallow breaths. "I don't need his protection."

His smirk was small and taunting as he stared at you, his eyes darting between your eyes and your lips.

"You do from me."

His lips crashed down upon yours as he pulled you close. Your surprised gasp was cut off, silenced by his harsh kiss. The feeling was foreign but not entirely unwelcome. Even as the force of his lips had his teeth smashing yours, cutting into the top of your own lip and greeting you with the taste of blood, you welcomed it.

You kissed back, moving your lips with his and following his lead but doing no more than that. Even if you had already compromised yourself, it would help not to encourage him.

When he pulled away from you, you chased his lips and felt the shame of it hot on your cheeks. He smiled at your eagerness, even chuckled at your breathlessness as he shook his head.

"My, my," he goaded. "You really do want this, you twisted little whore."

You shivered at his words and still denied. "And if I don't?" you countered, practically staring at his pink lips and proving him right.

He shook his head. "You should've walked out that door."

He kissed you again, silencing you once more until his lips had a moan clawing up your throat. He placed a hand on your chest, pulling you forward just a slight from turning you in one arm and shoving you back.

You stumbled backward, catching your footing again as you stared at him between the long distance he had put between the both of you. It surprised you and now you were trying to put your mind back in order, as though it hadn't been scrambled enough from his kiss.

"If you want to go so badly, prove it to me." He pointed to the door, urging you to leave with dark eyes and darker words. "Run. Run away, before I catch you."

You stared at him, catching your breath and contemplating. He was giving you one last chance for an out, one last chance to turn away and forget about tonight.

But you could never forget what happened here, especially not now, and not ever. Staring back at his dangerous eyes, you made your choice, knowing there was no turning back.

So you would prove that you wanted to stay as you trudged the distance between you and closed it with your lips on his, addicted to the taste of him—the taste of danger and intrigue and all things twisted in the world.

His hand cupped the back of your head as he opted to devour you, allowing your fingers to work at the buttons of his vest to remove it. You gasped into his mouth and made your decision before your inexperience could talk you out of it, separating from his lips only to kneel down before him with your eyes locked on his.

Amazed by your initiative, he encouraged you by leaning his hips out as you worked at his belt. You fumbled for a moment too long before you finally got his trousers open, finally reaching what you were aiming for as you pulled him from his underwear.

You stared wide-eyed at him as you took in the sight of his cock, the tip flushed red and the vein along the underside pulsing with his well-disguised lust. You looked up at him, finding him staring back down at you with those cold, dark eyes.

"Well, go on then," he mumbled as you continued to stare, conflicted between different courses of action.

Your body heat seemed to rise at the realisation that you were staring like a fool. You swallowed thickly, reaching a hand up and wrapping it gently around him, gliding your thumb along his tip and feeling a little more confident when his unyielding eyes fluttered. You continued on, rubbing your thumb at the head of him before stroking your fist along the length of him, up and down in a steady rhythm as you navigated what he liked and didn't like.

One of his hands cupped the back of your neck, urging you forward as your face pressed into his hips with the warmth of his cock on your cheek. Slowly, you kissed it, your lips gliding along the length as you took in the unfamiliar sensation. You slipped your tongue through your lips, licking along the side until you reached his flushed tip. Kissing the slit at the head of his cock, the bead of pre-cum there spread over your lips as you darted your tongue out to lick it.

You opened your mouth at the taste, setting his tip on your tongue and shivering at the feeling as you closed your lips around it. You built yourself up for it as you felt his heavy stare at the top of your head, bobbing your head slowly back and forth as you took the smallest bit more with each comeback. As he reached the back of your tongue, that tickling feeling in your throat began to tease you before the threat of gagging became too much to try to pass through.

By now, his cock was glistening with your saliva. As you looked up at him with eyes beginning to tear from your efforts, he stared back, lost in the pathetically illusioned look on your face. "You can't be done already," he said, his fingers tangling in your hair.

You spoke breathlessly, "Tommy–"

"No," he shook his head. "Not Tommy. You call me 'sir' while you're sat there on your knees with my cock in your mouth. You understand?"

You took in his authority, deciding whether or not you would listen. You began to scoff, "I'm not–"

"You will," he said finally, giving you that look that demanded respect. You knew, staring at him now, that he held the key to your pleasure. If you wanted to feel good, you would have to obey. As much as that annoyed you, it thrilled you all the same as he continued to look down on you like he was.

Your jaw ached with resentment, but you knew it was a front, you fighting the submission you were not meant to have. But you wanted it. You wanted him to break you down to some common whore, to strip you of your importance as a Gold and turn you into his plaything. But it was so firmly embedded, you would just have to keep fighting against it.

But that didn't matter right now, not with you on your knees with his cock in your hand.

"I can't do it…sir," you replied.

He raised a brow. "Can't do what?"

He was taunting you, insulting you by trying to make you say something you didn't want to say. It sat on your tongue like venom. Admitting what you classified as "it" felt like a new kind of torture.

"What is it you can't do, eh?" he questioned, even smirking at you like he knew he held all the cards. Because he did.

"I can't…" you swallowed thickly, bowing your head.

"No, no," he tsked, lifting your head with his hand in your hair to force you to look at him. And he wasn't lying before—he wouldn't be gentle. "Look at me and tell me what you can't do."

You huffed, speaking in a squeak of a voice. "Can't… take it all."

"What was that?"

"I can't take it all," you repeated, not yelling but not whispering either.

He smiled at you then, an evil, nasty smile that you wanted to wipe from his face. "That's all?" he questioned, laughing when you broke his eye contact. "Well, sure you can. Let me show you."

The exchange was promptly ended as his hand in your hair guided your head back to him as you took his cock in your mouth again, and he pushed you down, inch by inch, back onto him. You felt his tip pushing into your mouth, deeper and deeper on your tongue until he brushed the back of your throat. You gagged around him, feeling the sensations of the invasion rushing down your spine, resting in your belly and tingling all over.

As your nose brushed against his pelvic bone, your eyes welled up as tears spilled over your cheeks. He shushed you as you gagged on his cock, your throat adjusting around the intrusion. His hips bucked a couple of times, pushing his cock further until he could go no deeper. When he pulled out, you took as much air into your burning lungs as possible before you were interrupted by a few coughs.

As much as you wanted to slap him for the assault on your throat, one look at the pleasure on his face calmed the fire of frustration and fed the ache of arousal between your legs.

"Don't– do that again," you huffed, still catching your breath as you leaned forward on your knees to take him into your hot mouth again. You didn't go nearly as far again as you licked along his length, suckling around his cock and laving your tongue along his tip and the vein on the underside.

"The hell I won't," he mumbled, not the biggest fan of your telling him what to do but not necessarily put off by the idea. His hand remained a tangled mess in your hair as you continued to suck and lick and kiss.

You weren't expecting it when he pushed you down the second time, but at least you knew what to expect as you shut your eyes tight and took it, accepting the twisted pleasure that blossomed in your belly until he pulled out of your mouth again, keeping you back as he groaned.

You wiped your mouth off, staring at him with wet eyes and breathing through an open mouth. A deep breath exhaled from his lungs as he hoisted you to your feet, searching out your lips to bring you into another kiss. He turned you both around and pressed your back into his desk as he continued to kiss you roughly, pushing you back until you collapsed on the dark wood.

You gasped in surprise but barely had time to process as his lips continued to attack yours. His hands grasped the neckline of your dress, encouraging shivers down your spine. When he suddenly ripped and ripped at your clothes tearing them off you like a beast, you gasped and watched him turn your dress to rags.

It wasn't long before you were bare in front of him, save for the pantyhose hiding nothing from him. Then those were gone, too. Your hands instinctively flew to your body, trying to cover yourself up. There was really no reason for modesty, not now that you had already seen his cock and had it shoved down your throat, but this was entirely new and you would have rather liked a warning beforehand.

"Don't cover yourself now," he said as he entwined his hands with your own and pulled them away, spreading you out to see every inch of you with those hungry eyes. Your body trembled with the feeling of his eyes on your bare skin. You squeezed your eyes shut, whimpering quietly at the mix of emotions ruling you.

Where some would take pity, Tommy just smiled darkly and tsked gently as he leaned forward and began kissing your neck. Your mouth fell open as your eyes fluttered to see him. A slight moan caught in your throat escaped at the sensation of lips to skin and your hands struggled where he restrained them, wanting to touch him again.

His kisses were not so patient after a moment as teeth began to scrape skin, sucking and nibbling on flesh in order to mark uncharted territory. The pleasure it gave him to know that no man had ever done this to you before was intense, driving him crazy with lust, a desire to claim you as his hips cant into your own, pushing you further into the desk and otherwise hurting you—if you had not been so preoccupied with his kiss.

You moaned into the air when his hand tightened around your thigh, squeezing roughly as he groped and kneaded the flesh. His other hand busied itself around your throat and tilted your head off to the side, sitting securely there but not quite squeezing the same. Your fingers wrapped around his wrist nonetheless, though you didn’t know whether you were trying to make him stop or keeping his hand there, wrapped around your throat and effectively putting him in charge.

The hand on your thigh travelled up, smoothing along your skin until he reached your hip. It never stayed there, moving back down as his fingers brushed over your exposed cunt. Your breath stopped in your throat when you felt his fingers ghosting over your lips and gasped when you felt his middle finger slip between them before biting down hard on your lip in an attempt to silence yourself.

His lips brushed your ear as he spoke in his low tones. “You like being touched by me? Eh?” A whimper left your throat when his finger pressed into you, pushing past your folds and into the warm, wet feeling inside of you. You clenched around it, the feeling foreign and but so good. "You're practically a whore now. I did buy ya after all—cost me a penny."

Your legs trembled as he stretched you out around his finger, a second playing at your pussy before carefully joining the other. "A penny?" you stuttered. "I personally think I'd be worth at least two."

"Well, let's see then," he said, lifting his brows as he pulled his finger out of you.

You whimpered, granting him an annoyed expression at the absence of his touch so soon. "See what?"

"If you taste good enough for two pennies."

You stared at him as his lips kissed your chest, sucking on your nipples on the way down and continuing on down to your thighs. A shocked yelp came from you when he bared his teeth around a chunk of flesh, only soothed when he kissed over it.

He gripped your thighs and pulled them over his shoulders, taking your hips in his hands and pushing himself up so your body was nearly folded in half. He didn't stall you at all as he buried his head between your thighs, licking and sucking on your folds as he shoved his tongue between them.

Your head flew backward, banging against the table. You hardly noticed, even with the full throb at the back of your head, the slight dizziness in your brain. Your hands flew to his hair, tangling in dark strands and tugging him forward. His tongue was just as skilled here, commanding your body to his every will, as it was during his speeches while he commanded armies of men to join in his cause or to intimidate against their own.

One hand left your hip to play with your cunt, toying with your clit. He pushed two fingers into your fluttering hole, swirling his tongue around your clit as you moaned for him to continue.

"Fuck," you mewled, closing your legs around his head and digging your heels into his back. He didn't seem to care, not until you messed up. "Please don't stop, Tommy."

But he did. His fingers and tongue retreated as he pulled back, straightening his back and letting one leg fall from his shoulder, though he kept the other firmly held to his chest.

You whined, looking at him with shallow breath. You watched him lick his kiss-swollen lips as he stared at you with black eyes. The emotions in your belly swirled between lust and frustration and fear and intrigue. He was so intimidating and you wanted more. You wanted him to keep kissing you, to keep dragging his tongue along your wet pussy. But you also wanted him to push you into the floor and take you from behind, his hips slapping into you, his hand planting your cheek against the cold floor, his mouth whispering filthy things in your ear.

"Please," you whimpered, too desperate to care about how pathetic you sounded.

He lifted a brow, saying nothing and staring. When you tried to sit up to reach his face, he pressed a hand into your chest and pushed you down roughly, leaning forward himself to paralyse you with his dangerous glare. Even with his hand on your chest, you tried to sit up still to kiss his pretty lips but he wouldn't let you. Your thigh ached from the position.

"Please," you whispered again, a broken moan as the lack of pleasure became too much, welling in your chest and making your body tremble.

He tilted his head.

You let out a shaky breath, moving your free leg outward to spread yourself even wider for him. "Please, sir," you concede. "Please keep going. I want it."

He didn't continue. His eyes bore into yours and you shuddered. With a gentle huff, you handed over the last of your dignity. "Please, sir, I need it."

He lingered there for a moment longer before smirking. You thought he was going to kiss you when he leaned forward, but instead he took your bottom lip between his teeth and but down before returning to his previous position between your legs.

He began again with the same intensity, devouring you as though you were his last meal. You whimpered and moaned and cried from the pleasure he forced into you. As he shoved his fingers into you, spreading them apart and thus stretching you wider, suckling on your clit and kneading it with his tongue, a coil tightened in your belly as everything seemed to follow.

Your moans built to whining breaths—too high and pitchy to be real—but genuine nonetheless. He didn't let up or slow down, drunk on the taste of you and too far gone to stop just yet, not without his reward.

The warm, wet feeling of his mouth became too much, the suckling of his lips even moreso. You squeezed your eyes tight, arching your back as a loud moan ripped from your throat. Your breath was rough and forceful as it rasped in and out of your throat, and your hands clenching in his hair tugged and tugged as his tongue continued to work. The pleasure took siege of your body, attacking every nerve ending until you were naught but a pile of flesh and blood and bone.

The high slowly descended to bring you back to Tommy Shelby's study, his tongue at your pussy a distant sensation in the back of your mind before it burnt with oversensitivity. You tugged at his hair, grunting as you pulled his head away to catch your breath.

His chin glistened and his lips were plump with blood as he stared at your recuperating body. He pulled his fingers from your fluttering pussy, taking them between his lips to taste you.

"Too much?" he asked, not in any way sensitive as he stared. "What, it feels too good, it hurts?" All you could do was nod. He breathed a laugh. "Have you ever touched yourself before, love?"

You didn't have it in you to be shy as you shook your head. He didn't take that answer this time—not humiliating enough, you supposed.

"Eh?" he urged, lightly smacking your arse to get a proper answer.

You grunted, shaking your head. "No, sir."

"That's your first time cumming then," he said more than asked, watching your dazed eyes slowly return to the dull bite of their natural rebellion—though he knew he broke you down enough for it to be too weak to matter.

He still awaited an answer. "Yes, sir," you obliged.

"Well, congratulations," he said. "Most men don't know how to please, so most women don't get to cum."

You disregarded his comment, still stuck on the aftershocks of pleasure as your eyes wandered the room. You whimpered when he licked you again, suckling around your clit and earning a jerk from your body.

He sat up, moving your legs off his shoulders like they were nothing important to him. He wrapped a hand at the base of your skull and pulled you up to sit. "Come here," he said, bringing you close to his face. "Have a taste."

He pulled you forward and crashed his lips against yours, too rough but just as amazing as all the rough ones he'd given before. The taste of you was strange but addictive as you came back for more, even as he pulled you away.

Tommy backed away from you, leaving you bare and hot on the desk. His hair was a mess, and he licked his lips again. He gestured toward you. "Stand up." You did as you were told, steadying yourself on unsteady feet. "Turn around."

As you obeyed, he came up behind you and pushed you onto the desk again, just as he'd done before. You grunted at the impact and clenched your thighs at the effect it had on you. You hated how good it made you feel, his treating you so roughly, without a care to just how rough. You hated even more how much rougher you wanted him to be.

Your prayers may have been met with extremity when you felt his gun to your head again as he spoke into your ear.

"I could kill you," he considered, pressing the gun further.

Your heart kicked up, and the adrenaline took over as his unwavering voice promised your demise. You held back your moan and responded, "But you won't."

"Why not?"

"You need me," you insisted. He laughed. "It's true. You kill me, well I'm Daddy's favourite. There'll be war. You make me go, I'll just keep coming back to finish it. You fuck me now, your wager is fulfilled and you get to fuck a virgin. What man doesn't want that, eh?"

Oh, you were good. Even if he was going to kill you, your words were enough to persuade him otherwise. He pressed the gun into your temple and the clicking sound of him clocking it reverberated in your ear. You moaned a long, deep moan as you clenched your thighs tightly together.

He smiled, laughing quietly to himself as he shook his head. "A proper whore, you are."

"Then fuck me, sir. That's the purpose of a whore, isn't it?" You gripped the edge of the table when he pushed his hips into you, aching that same spot on your thighs from before and making your lust all the worse.

He lingered, the cold barrel cocked and ready. You held your breath and awaited his decision before he removed it from your head. You sighed gently, missing his warmth when he stepped away from you.

Your hips jolted when the cold tip of his gun pressed to your pussy, spreading your lips apart to see you still wet for him. With the gun still cocked, your heart pounded against your ribcage and you felt the anxiety building deliciously in your body. He hummed, considering something in his head. You stayed as still as possible, certain your breath was loud as you wondered what he was thinking.

You heard him kneel, hyperaware of every sound he made behind you. His hand nudged the other side before he was leaning forward to taste you again.

You whimpered. "You're a dirty whore for being this wet," he said. You bit down on your lip.

He stood again and bent himself over your body. "You got my gun dirty," he tutted, shaking his head like he was scolding you as he shoved the barrel in your face. You could see your arousal gleaming off of it, shaking at the sight of it so close. "Clean it up."

You didn't move, paralyzed by fear. He didn't like that. "Clean. It. Up."

You let out a wavering breath, "Yes, sir." You leaned forward slowly, not even certain you were actually moving, and stuck your tongue out the slightest bit. You shut your eyes, making contact with the gun and a tiny whine slipped.

He watched you do as you were told, licking your slick from his gun and loving every second. A tear slipped down your cheek, slow and beautiful. He kissed it from your skin as you cleaned the gun.

When he deemed that you'd done well enough, he uncocked it and put it away. Your body relaxed, all of the pent up energy inside of you calming a slight as the threat of so much danger lifted from you.

He slipped his hand around your throat and leaned into your ear again. "Such a good girl, crying for me" he husked in your ear. "I'm gonna make you scream."

You felt the head of his cock push between your folds, coating himself in your slick, and there was plenty to go around. He straightened his spine as he took a hold of your hips, just as rough as you were expecting, before he shoved his cock into you. You moaned loudly as the harsh drag of his cock invaded your cunt, stretching you out around him.

"Fuck," you cried, gripping the desk harder. He held you steady as he fucked into your tight pussy, snapping his hips in and out of you without sparing a second for you to adjust. The slick you'd gathered would have to do.

You clenched down on him, thighs aching and trembling and becoming too much already as the tears built in your eyes.

Chants and cries of "yes" and "more" and "harder" spilled from your mouth and into the air, a loud and filthy cacophony of blasphemous praise. He held you down and he held you still, dominating your body as your new god as he ruined you for any man.

"You want more? Sure you do, so desperate for a fuck," he taunted, his harsh words accompany the harsh smacks of his hips. It was loud and continuous and it felt so good. "Such a dirty little thing, filthy and twisted. You like having a gun to your head, you like me being mean to ya. Where's all that pride gone, eh?"

The tears streamed down your face, decorating you in a way that Tommy could only describe as "beautiful".

"That's right. Cry for me, little whore," he grunted.

You did. Your thighs hurt and your throat is sore and your fingers ache from grasping the desk so hard, but you cried for him and the overwhelming pleasure, a depraved sound he fed from.

One of his hands left your hip to toy with your clit as he pressed his chest to your back. He bit the juncture between your neck and your shoulder, cruel and uncaring, before kissing the spot like an absent-minded apology. Your voice was raspy as he drew quick circles at your clit, chasing your next high as though it were unattainable.

And who knows? With Tommy, it might be.

"More," you begged, despite the loss of breath in your lungs, despite the haze of your mind. You chased the pleasure, pleading for it to swallow you whole as you took all that he gave you. "Please, sir, more." He cursed under his breath.

That crashing high from before curled in your belly again, hot and searing, like molten lava. You shuddered when it erupted, squeezing around his cock as you nearly sobbed. "Ahh, fuck!" Your head went fuzzy at the sensations as you gushed around him, sucking him in tighter.

Tommy grunted, his hips stilling before he pulled out of you. You thought he was done, but he seemed far from it as he wrapped his arm around your midsection, lifting you from the table and turning. You thought he was heading for the sofa, instead he lowered you to the ground on your hands and knees, which shook with the aftershocks of an orgasm you were still recovering from.

He pressed down on your back, pushing you onto the floor so your hips were angled up. He grasped your waist, smacking your arse once and earning a cut-off shriek.

He steadied you before burying his cock in you once more, sighing from the warmth your body provided. You whimpered at the feeling so fresh after cumming, slowly adjusting to the pleasure as he fucked into you with the insistence of a starved man.

Once you settled into it again, you moaned into the sensitivity, easing the rock of his hips rubbing you against the floor with your palms planted on the wood. It was cold and hard but the way his cock brushed in and out of you was so electric that you didn't care.

"There we are," he said, guiding your hips quickly as he pulled you in against him. "Fucked on the ground where you belong. Don't you agree?"

You struggled with nodding—though you knew he wouldn't accept it anyway. "Yes, s– Ah!– sir." He rutted into you, his thrusts almost animalistic, and he kept on.

He leaned forward, bracing one hand next to your head as you reached out to grab it. His breath was loud in your ear, full of broken moans disguised as heavy grunts.

"Good," mewled. "Feels good, sir."

"Yeah?" he asked, a particularly harsh slap making you whimper. "You want more, you pathetic whore?"

"Please, sir."

"So polite all of a sudden," he spoke breathlessly.

When he pulled out of you again, you thought you'd scream. But he eased you up to flip you onto your back, standing on his knees and staring down on you. You watched him unbutton his shirt, undoing each button one by one until he was able to shed it from his arms. You stared at the bare skin of his chest, taking in his tattoos, his muscles, the light patch of hair.

Grabbing you by your legs, he pulled you into his lap after leaning back. He set your legs over his shoulders once more, guiding himself back into you before he leaned forward. Your legs ached from being put in this position so much—but hell if you cared, because when he seated himself fully inside of you, the moan you left out was deep and guttural. He reached so much deeper than before, brushing a spot inside of you that set your body ablaze.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close as his hips snapped into yours. His thrusts were shorter in this position, grinding into you and brushing that spot over and over and over again. You whined and moaned through every moment of it, your eyes tearing up and the tension in your muscles building.

Your hand splayed out over his cheek as you tilted his head toward your face, wanting to watch him as he fucked into you. His eyes gazed at you, the intimidation from before not quite as cruel as it melted into the intimacy of the moment. His forehead pressed against yours and you breathed in each other's air as he shoved your hips together.

The sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you were intoxicating, filling the air with a filthy cadence that mixed with the carnal pleas on your tongue and the raucous groans on his.

"Look at you," he said, planting his hand next to your head once more as the other held your hips up for the right angle. "So desperate, pathetically beautiful."

You gave him a drunk smile, looking between his eyes and lips. "You think… I'm beautiful?"

He rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless, shutting you up with a rough thrust. Your head fell back and exposed your neck, which he graciously nipped between his teeth.

You yelped when the pad of his thumb pressed against your clit again, sinking into a breathy moan as you looked between your bodies to see it. You looked back up at Tommy, allowing him to do as he pleased with your body, succumbing to his touch.

"Fuck," you breathed, clenching around him at the feeling of your aching clit being stimulated again. You weren't sure you could cum again, but to hell if you weren't going to try.

Your arms wrapped around his back as your nails took root in his shoulders, scraping down his flesh to find purchase for the overwhelming passion. The sound Tommy made was nearly a moan, which he covered with a hiss as he clenched his teeth.

You kissed him, lips bruising, teeth clicking, tongues flicking as you drank the pleasure. "I'm gonna cum again, sir."

He raised his brows, though his rhythm was wearing. "Oh, you think so, do you?"

You corrected yourself, kissing him again to add in your favour. "Please, sir, can I cum again?"

His grin was almost sinister as he regarded you. You were learning, and fast. His unsteady hips rocked you back and forth on the ground, and his breath was timed with each little thrust. You could tell he was going to lose it, so close to joining you as you encouraged him by clenching and squeezing, sucking him into your cunt and getting him addicted to it.

"Fuck, yes. Go on and cum for me, sweetheart," he groaned, giving you the permission you needed as the pleasure washed over you like a wave of fire.

Your back arched, your weak moan stuttered in your throat, and you couldn't help but utter his name as the ecstasy shook you. Your cunt fluttered around him, and your moan continued until it melted to helpless little whimpers which then dissolved into each breath.

Tommy buried his face in the crook of your neck when he came after you, growling in your ear and his muscles tensed under your hands. His hips rutted into you, sinking in nice and deep and putting you in a position that would have been fairly uncomfortable, had you not been so devoured by his deep fucking that you hardly even noticed. All you could feel was the pressure of his body on yours and the feeling of his hot seed spilling into you, your cunt so tight around his cock that you milked every drop.

Slowly, his muscles loosened and his grip on your hip let up. He sighed, a long, deep sigh that released the rest of his tension as he began to straighten his back again. You stopped him, wrapping your hand around the back of his head and pulling him down for one more kiss. This one was so soft, a slow kiss that rendered your body useless. Everything was limp and lazy as the tender kiss changed the entire dynamic of the night.

It lasted longer than it properly should have as you both came in for more, treasuring it, cherishing it, until it had to come to its imminent end. He pulled away from you, staring at your face for a moment longer before he sat up, pulling out of you and making you shudder from the sudden loss and the even more sudden chill.

You stayed on the floor as he walked toward his desk and tucked himself back into his underwear. Your eyelids were heavy, drooping down as you lacked the strength to stand. As Tommy picked up his case of cigarettes, he looked at you over his shoulder, still laying there. Your legs were still spread out, your pussy dripping with both your cum on display and your arms framing your head. You'd passed out.

Tommy rubbed his cigarette between his lips before he lit it. His eyes never left you as he took the first puff before discarding the light and walking over to you. He knelt, tucking his hand under you to take you into his arms and set you on the sofa. He readjusted your body, your legs closed and one of your arms covering your chest.

He stood there a moment. You looked peaceful as you slept—absolutely debauched with your messy hair, tear-stricken cheeks, and swollen lips—but peaceful. Your face nuzzled into the cushion, and your lips twitched with whatever was going on in your head.

It took more than he would like to admit not to brush the apple of your cheek as he cleared his throat quietly. He picked up his disregarded shirt and draped it over your shoulders before choosing to walk back to his desk. He sat down and sifted through some files he pulled from a drawer to busy himself.

He didn't keep track of how long you slept or how long he sat there. He hadn't realised when he dozed off, tired out from you and from work.

You stirred from your place on the couch, opening your eyes and wondering why the floor was so soft. It took a moment to remember where you were, why you were naked, and why your thighs were so sticky.

Taking a deep breath in, a familiar scent filled your nose as you noticed the shirt over your body. You sat up slowly, pulling it to your chest and taking another deep breath. The scent made you dizzy, and you slipped it over your arms. The shirt was big on you, hanging low as you pulled it closed around your body.

Your body ached as you moved to stand, running a hand through your hair and stretching your sore limbs. Why were you so sore?

You took two steps, examining the floor and taking in all the clothes—scraps and fully intact—laying there, before you looked up and saw him. Tommy was passed out at his desk, bracing his face on his arms as he slept.

The events of that night flooded into your mind all at once and suddenly, everything made sense. You looked down at your dress of scraps again with a frown as you picked it up, rolling your eyes before using it to wipe away the cum glueing your legs together and discarding it back to the floor.

You padded over to Tommy, glancing over him and silently making your way to the window to peek behind the curtains. It was still dark out, so you hadn't slept long.

You returned to Tommy, lifting up his half-burnt cigarette and putting it out properly in the ashtray it was sitting in. You stared at him, watching him sleep.

You never thought the devil himself could ever look so peaceful.

You couldn't help yourself—you reached out and brushed some of his hair from his face. You just wanted to see him a little clearer. In doing so, he woke. It wasn't a slow waking like yours. His was fast, nearly startled as his eyes opened and his sharp inhale shocked his senses. Before he could jolt up to his feet, his blue eyes found you and his dark brows almost convinced you that he despised you as he granted you a hard stare.

But his expression shifted at the sight of you, after he'd properly taken you in and recognized you. He blinked away and sighed, sitting up slowly and leaning back in his chair. He tilted his head as he looked you up and down before reaching for his case of cigarettes again.

He picked one out, rubbed it between his lips, and lit it up in silence. And, in silence, you took it from between his lips and set it between your own. He stared at you, lips parted and amused—though, you had to look closely to notice.

"Apologise."

You stared at him with a raised brow, blowing out a billowing breath of smoke. He was surprised you smoke.

He looked you up and down before sighing and leaning back again. "Alright, I'll bite," he said. "What for?"

You took another deep breath before moving it again, blowing it out before gesturing toward him with his cigarette. "You called me pathetic."

"You are pathetic."

"And you called me a whore."

"You are a whore."

"You called me a pathetic whore."

He opened his arms, shrugging as he watched you. You raised a brow and blew out some more smoke.

"Apologise."

You weren't harsh as you said it, and you didn't look particularly hurt. In fact, you looked like a fucking angel dressed in his shirt, smoking his cigarette, and demanding he apologise for something you so obviously enjoyed.

He gave in, smiling as he rolled his eyes. "I apologise for calling you a pathetic whore…even if you are a pathetic whore."

You watched him for a moment, considering whether you'd accept his apology.

"I also want you to apologise for pointing a gun at me. Twice. And then touching my fucking cunt with it."

"No." He said it so simply, so finally. There was no way you'd get him to budge. "You liked it too much."

You thought about that and shrugged. Fair enough.

"I also–"

"Shut up and come here," he said, turning toward you with his open legs and arms.

You smiled and stepped between them, letting him take hold of your waist—even if you were still sensitive there because you didn't want to give up the affection. You guided the cigarette back between his lips, your fingers pressing against them as you did. He smoked it before taking it out and staring at you, blowing the air out as he thought.

Tommy reached into his pocket, digging around to pull out a coin. He handed it to you, and you shook your head at him. "That's not funny," you mumbled, stifling a laugh.

"Congratulations, you're worth two pennies."

"Fuck you," you laughed, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I've already done that." You laughed again, shaking your head and ignoring the warmth in your belly.

You stared at him, rubbing the coin between your fingers as you toyed with it. He watched you think to yourself, biting your lip as your eyes so obviously flicked between his eyes and lips.

"Thank you, Tommy," you told him softly. "I needed this."

His smile faltered slightly as he continued to watch you. He sighed, unaware of his thumbs stroking patterns into your sides, "I didn't do it for you… but I'm happy to have helped."

You chuckled weakly, half-hearted. Looking down at the penny, you smiled slowly and held it up. "How about a wager?" His subtle amusement encouraged you.

"If it's heads…you get me a new dress because you ripped mine to shreds."

He let out a small scoff, shaking his head gently.

"And if it's tails…" you smiled. You lifted your leg, slipping into his lap as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. His hands found your arse, pulling you forward so your bodies were flush against each other. Your eyes fluttered as his cock brushed your pussy, already exciting you for the probable future. You focused on him again, "...you fuck me again—this time naked."

He smiled and nodded his head. "Toss the coin, Miss Gold."

You licked your lips as you readied it between your thumb and finger. Your eyes locked for a moment between moments, drinking each other like forbidden wine. You flipped the coin into the air, watching as it twirled and twirled and twirled. The coin made its descent, you caught it, and you took a moment to close your eyes and hope before you let it show.

You couldn't hide your elation as you picked up the coin and showed him. "Congratulations, Mr. Shelby," you smiled. "Tails."

"A deal's a deal." His hand wrapped around the back of your neck and he pulled you in, "I would've fucked you otherwise." He kissed you in a mix of the roughness and sweet tenderness from earlier.

Between breaks, you sighed heavily. "Thank God because I need you," you confessed, kissing him again.

You undid his pants once more, this time pushing them down his legs and finally ridding him of them. He let you wear his shirt, refraining from admitting just how much he liked seeing you wear it.

The kiss was a mess as you devoured one another. He rocked your hips in his lap and you moaned at the pressure as his cock spread your lips apart. "Fuck, this is gonna be a long night," you hummed.

"Shut up and ride my cock," he demanded, not nearly as harsh as before but just as breathless as you now.

You smiled. "Yes, sir."

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starseungs · 21 days

Text

lunchtime tea, served by yours truly. ksm.

kim seungmin x fem!reader — getting dragged over to the student council office instead of the cafeteria was far from your lunchtime plans. too bad seungmin seemed to think otherwise.

genre/s — fluff, humor if it counts, historical fantasy, academy au, duke's son!seungmin x marquis' daughter!y/n • 1.3k words

warning/s — petty noble disputes, seungmin implies a nepotism plan (laughs nervously), both of them are in their second to the last year of academy = they're both around 21 !!

note — here's a short fic i whipped up as i finish take a shot ! yes, its inspired by those rofan manhwas with academy arcs/settings. im obsessed with those ngl

“Would it really be such a crime to enjoy one peaceful lunch session, Your Grace?”

You sank down with a huff on the smooth velvety sofa propped in the middle of the spacious office room, not paying any mind to the way the door shut with a soft click despite your strong swing to open it earlier. A pair of footsteps other than yours echoed in the space, the flat, heavy heels of the figure’s shoes clacking with strong authority. Yet, you remained unfazed despite the strong aura permeating the enclosure—choosing to stand your ground with a click of a tongue.

Seungmin sighed at the sight of your demeanor.

“And I believe it would be against academy ordinance for you to call me by that title within the campus premises, Lady Y/N.” He reprimands you with a low drawl before carefully taking a seat at his desk located front and center against a massive glass window, his silhouette strengthening as he leans forward to rest his arms on the desk. You could only whine in mockery at his reply.

“Boo,” you scoffed before crossing your arms and craning your head to stare at him. “Such a stickler for the rules, are you not?”

Seungmin hummed. “I suppose you may be right, but could I also offer you information on my father’s well-being?” He says with a tone implying sweetness, even if you knew otherwise.

“The Duke is alive and well—yes, I am aware,” you pressed for a smile as innocent as you could manage, enjoying the way Seungmin’s formal facade fell apart slightly before getting gathered up once again. The young Lord cleared his throat before continuing the questionable exchange between the two of you.

“Therefore, we should not be having this conversation in the first place.”

“However, you are the heir to the dukedom, if I recall correctly?”

“Yes, you do.”

You then brought your hands together in a resounding clap at his answer, signifying a remarkable conclusion. “Then it is the same thing.”

Seungmin groaned tiredly at your unbelievable words. “It is clearly not—” he suddenly paused mid-sentence. You watched as his eyes narrowed with an inquisitive glint before he took an obvious intake of air. “I’m getting the slight inkling that you are doing this to raise my temper.”

A prominent laugh bubbled its way out of your throat. “I do find that side of you quite charming, yes.”

“I will pretend to not hear your comment, My Lady,” Seungmin pinched the bridge of his nose, desperately trying to subside his growing stress. “And I would like to inform you belatedly that a peaceful lunch should be the last of your priorities at the moment.”

The involuntary squawk that came out of you voiced your offense. “Well, this is surprising news, as I have not received any notice about a new dietary restriction!”

“It is not—” Seungmin caught himself again. You grinned mischievously at his obvious struggle before collecting yourself when you felt a pointed glare being sent in your direction. He exhaled heavily, “Proceeding with the matter at hand, are you aware of the number of complaints the Theta group has placed upon your name?”

“I do believe there has not been a single soul in this academy who has not,” you hummed in acknowledgement.

“My Lady, forgive me for being rude; however, the answer I was hoping for was to be about how you are planning on addressing this issue.”

“Oh,” you blinked. “Then, I plan to do nothing about the issue.”

A small thud was heard from Seungmin’s direction, prompting you to look over to see what had caused such a sound. Low and behold, the sight of the academy’s best student holding his head down towards the polished mahogany desk in defeat—rendering you unsure of what to do next. There had only been a few times in your entire lifetime that you had seen Seungmin completely shatter his dignified demeanor, and you had known the man since you were six. Now you fear that you had actually crossed a line.

“Y/N,” he raised his head ever so slightly to lock eyes with you, his next order coming out as a plea. “Just explain why you poured a cup of tea over Lady Colette’s head.”

“Then forgive me as well for my words. However, in my perspective, Theta is nothing but a pathetic excuse for an institutional social group,” you sighed, remembering the events of the tea party yesterday. “I do not know why they still prove to be the most popular social group for ladies when the Zeta group has always been better. Theta are barely anything worth more than a babble of obnoxious noble daughters who prefer to place themselves on a higher pedestal than they deserve. Lady Colette was terrorizing a freshman from a country-side barony. I only did my best to stop her, considering the fact that mere words seemed to hold no interest for her.”

Seungmin raised a brow. “Quite an interesting way of describing them, don’t you think?”

“Well, I did send my apologies before doing so, did I not?” You smiled back as part of your reply, proudly this time. Seungmin could only scoff, albeit greatly amused.

“You have got to stop trying to outsmart me in times like these, Y/N,” he said, standing up. “You of all people should know how much I lack the ability to harbor ill feelings towards you.”

It was your turn to raise an eyebrow at his surprisingly favorable response. For holding the most coveted position of justice available for students in this academy, Seungmin was surely pressing less strongly on your faults. Perhaps it was a good thing that you still made sure to cool the tea before you dumped it on that Marquis’ pompous daughter.

“Playing favorites, are we now, Mr. President?”

Seungmin laughed openly this time. Talk about a change of mood. “I see that you have now chosen to switch to a different formality, yet again,” he mused on his way towards your figure on the couch. “See, you wouldn’t have this much trouble with other noble ladies if you just joined the student council.”

“Here you go again with your offer,” you said, rolling your eyes. “You of all people should know exactly why I cannot take a position in the council, Seungmin.”

“In my opinion, it would be seen as a reasonable training ground for the future Duchess.”

“You just like the way I do paperwork!” You expressed disbelief at his plan’s implication. “And high society might as well burn me into ashes, thinking that I take advantage of my position as your betrothed.”

Seungmin sighed dreamily, completely disregarding your latter comment. “I do love the way you do your paperwork. Such a perfect pair to my work ethic,” he says, sitting comfortably beside you with a relaxed exhale. “Yes, I genuinely do not see what is so wrong about the offer.”

“Seungmin,” you scowled at him. “Do you wish to put a stain on your reputation?”

“Oh, look at you scolding me as if we had already stated our vows,” Seungmin pinched your cheek in a tease. You attempted to push his hand away, only for him to grab it and intertwine your fingers, leaving you breathless as he placed a feathery kiss on your knuckles. “My dearest fiancee, I do not care what others may think of me. If I am able to, I will give anything you ask for without a silver of hesitation.” He gazed directly at your eyes, pupils swimming with unknown desire.

“My Duchess only deserves the best, after all.”

You pursed your lip at his intimate actions, feeling your stomach do crazed flips at his undivided attention. “It is quite concerning how biased you seem to be when it comes to this matter, Mr. President,” you gave in, letting yourself fall on his broad shoulder. “What have I even done to warrant your unyielding obsession with me?”

Seungmin’s chest rumbled in delight, the lull comforting your mind glazed over with his presence.

“Exist. Now, what do you think of becoming Vice President next year?”

“Serve me tea first, and I'll think about it.”

mastertag 🔖— send in an ask if you want to be added ! 🫶

@fairyki @hysgf @euncsace @comet-falls @starlostseungmin @ameliesaysshoo @hyunverse @djeniryuu @lixxpix

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satorusugurugurl · 2 months

Text

Pairing: Geto Sugurux FAB!Reader

Warning: dirty talk, a little knife play, no blood, squirting, degradation, kitchen sex!

Word Count: 4,740

A/N: A modern college AU!! I just kept thinking of two things. Suguru Geto and a Ghost-Face mask! This is my first post!!

Summary: When you fall asleep waiting for your boyfriend Geto Suguru to get home, you pass out holding your book. The dark romance smut book. The same book your boyfriend picks up and reads. A masked stalker? Geto can give you exactly what you want!

MINOR DNI!!!

The second Geto walked into your shared apartment, the tension in his shoulders seemingly vanished. The stress of his night classes and future exams didn't matter. He took his shoes off. All that mattered was being here at home with you.

Treading into the kitchen, Geto blinked, stunned not to find you sitting at the counter—the spot you had claimed for the last three nights. You sipped on a cup of tea while reading the pages of your newest book, where you asked about his day and seemed hesitant when he asked you about yours. But that had to be because you were lost in your book.

Heading into the bedroom, Geto grinned, finding you curled on your side. Upon hearing your soft breathing, Geto treaded carefully toward your side of the bed. From the book barely in your grasp to the entire cup of tea on the nightstand, Geto could piece together what had happened.

You tried staying up late for the fourth night to welcome him home. It came as no surprise that you had fallen asleep. You were so selfless and caring; those were a couple of the many things Suguru loved about you. You deserved a good night's rest. Grabbing the book, Geto glanced around for your bookmark. He reached over your body, mindlessly searching for it under the blankets.

The second he pulled it out from the blankets, he opened the book to place it securely where you'd left off. But just before he closed the book, a particular line caught his attention. ‘My masked stalker bent me over the counter, tossing his knife to the side before he buried his cock inside of me.’ Suguru read the line over and over again before peering down at you.

What kind of book were you reading? You were his sweet, high fantasy fairy romance-loving girlfriend? The same girl that gets flustered over the couple having to share a bed at an inn?

Well, this was a pleasant surprise.

With his interest peeked, Suguru sat in the living room reading the first few chapters of your dirty, dark romance. Calling it that was an understatement. This book was filthy. The stalker wore a Ghostface mask, fucked the heroine with the handle of a knife, and killed anyone that touched her. The sex scenes were so dark, gruesome, and arousing. He could see why you hadn't been able to put it down.

And why you were always flushed when he came home.

He wasn't an idiot; he knew why you liked it. The author described the stalker character as tall, long dark hair, and incredibly strong. You saw him in this character. Was that why you were so hesitant every night he had come home? Did you want something from him? Perhaps some role-playing?

The more he read, the harder his cock throbbed. This book was what you had been squirming and fantasizing about. And if his assumptions were correct, these were things you might want to try out. How cruel would it be to allow you to continue to suffer in silence? What kind of boyfriend would he be?

With a few taps on his phone, Suguru smirked as he got the notification that his package would arrive tomorrow. There was no going back now. All he could do was wait.

(~)(~)(~) (~)(~)(~) (~)(~)(~)

“Did you finish it?” Shoko asked through your phone as you stepped off the elevator on the third floor.

“No, I passed out reading last night. I'll finish it tonight, though.”

“Are you going to ask Suguru to buy a Ghost-Face mask?”

The teasing tone in your friend's voice made you blush. Not because it was embarrassing, but because you fucking wanted to. Reading Leo’s Throne had awakened things you didn't know you were into. Like choking, biting, rough sex, and being chased by a sexy masked man.

Sighing heavily, you stopped, “Shoko, please,” she giggled at your pain, “it's embarrassing! I don't want him to think I'm some fucked up delinquent.” The line grew silent as hushed whispers bickered on the other line.

“Uhm, I hate to break it to you.” Gojo chimed in, “But beating your meat to a girl getting fucked with the handle of a kni-”

“Shut up!”

More laughter erupted from the other line. “Look, we're not kink-shaming you. We're just encouraging you to talk to Suguru.” Shoko continued as Gojo cackled.

“That doesn't make me feel any better.” A whine worked its way up your throat.

It wasn't like sex with Geto was dull! Not in the slightest. You had never squirted until you met your fantastic boyfriend. The man left your legs trembling and tears running down your face whenever you were intimate. But you just wanted something different. Different as in your boyfriend acting as if he was your masked stalker. Doing that meant you would be asking him to be rougher than he ever had been before.

Oh yeah, how could that ever be mortifyingly embarrassing?

“Just go at your own pace, Y/N. Don't force yourself if you're not comfortable.”

“Yeah, yeah, I just got home. I'll see you two later.”

With a final goodbye, you shoved your phone into your pocket as you unlocked the door to your and Suguru’s shared apartment. It was Friday, so he would be home tonight, seeing as he had no night classes. Now would be the ideal time to discuss the kinky things you wanted to try. For Suguru to be rougher, possibly wear a mask. . .and to chase you around the apartment before he fucked the air out of your lungs.

No holding back! Shoko and Gojo were right. There was no harm in asking!

As you stepped into the apartment, you knew something was different. The sun had just begun to set, and the living room light was off. Which was strange, seeing as it was on a timer. Did the apartment lose power or something?

“Suguru?” No answer. “Suguru, I'm home!” you announced as you slipped your tennis shoes off.

“Welcome home.” Hearing your boyfriend's voice from within eased your nerves.

“Hey, what's going on with the lights? Did we lose power or something?” Without Suguru’s response, you found your answer, noticing the stove clock and refrigerator buzzing hum. “Babe?”

Silence passes by before his chuckle resonates from down the hall. “I turned them off.” That was the only response you got back.

“Why?”

“I thought I would set the mood.”

“I'm sorry. What mood are you trying to set?”

“I'm thinking we could play a little, angel~.”

Your body stiffened, not from his tone or the way he was acting, but because he called you Angel. Never once in your two-year relationship or your five-year friendship has Geto Suguru called you Angel. But Leo Rainsworth, the stalker from Leo’s Throne, called the heroine Angel all the damn time. Because she was so pure, he saw himself as a dark demon.

You were fucked.

“Ohh fuck.”

Another dark chuckle echoes from down the hall. “Oh, fuck is right. You fell asleep with your book in your hand last night. I just happened to read a couple of chapters.” Floorboards creaked from the dark hall. “I just have to say, I didn't know you were into kinky shit like that.” Another creak had your heart thundering against your ribcage.

“I-I well, it was—” you stuttered, trying to find the right words. There was no denying Suguru had found your smut. So you might as well tell him the truth. “It was so fucking hot.”

“Was it now?” You hummed in response. “Were you wanting to try some of that stuff? Is that why you stayed up late waiting for me this week? You were hesitant to ask, weren't you? Didn’t want me to know how fucking kinky you are?”

“Y-Yeah, I wanted to ask, but I was nervous. I didn’t know if it would be a turn-off?”

Suguru sighed heavily. “Well, seeing as someone doesn't know how to communicate their wants.” The sound of something, hard, being dragged over the wall made your pussy clench. “I’ve decided to take matters into my own hands.”

A whimper passed through your lips. Holy fuck, the anticipation of what was to come was almost too much to handle. Shifting your legs, you felt just how wet you were. Your panties were utterly soaked with your arousal. Fuck this hot.

“Fuck.”

“Do you want this?” There was no trace of teasing in Suguru’s voice. He was serious, wanting to know if you were okay with this continuing. “Are you comfortable?”

“God, yes. I-I want this Sugu.”

The response was so sudden it took both of you off guard. No hesitation, no questions asked. Just a simple answer. One that was about to rock your world.

“What’s our safeword?”

“Pineapple.”

“And our safety colors?”

“Green for good, yellow means I need you to slow down, or I need to take a break, and red means stop.” You recited, stepping out of the kitchen to look down the dark hallway for your boyfriend. The eagerness was moving you a step closer to his voice.

“You use them if things get too intense. It doesn't matter how far we get. I could be inside you, but if you say red, we stop.”

“Right, I understand.”

A tall silhouette strutted forward as your eyes finally adjusted to the dark hallway. “Good girl,” he says, taking another step forward. “Now, do me a favor.” Suguru stepped out into the living room, and you swear your heart dropped into your stomach. “Run.”

Your boyfriend is shirtless, black jeans clinging to his hips. Dragging your eyes up, you bite down on your bottom lip. Every fantasy you had in the last four days comes true in seconds. Suguru’s handsome face was hidden behind a Ghostface mask. Making it impossible to read his expressions, which made this ten times hotter. The uncertainty of what was going on through his head had you clenching your thighs together.

“I said run,” he repeated, holding up a large plastic prop knife, “Angel.”

You turned, running towards the kitchen, your socks sliding against the hardwood floor. Just as you slid, a rush of air grazed your back. Looking over your shoulder, you inhaled, seeing your boyfriend on your trail. He didn’t even give you a head start. Goddamn, he was playing the part well. Ducking slightly, you pushed forward, stumbling, only to hear Suguru curse as he missed you again.

“Holy shit, what happened to a ten-second head start?” You gasped out, standing at the far side of the kitchen island.

“Tsk,” he ran his thumb over the knife's hilt, “and give you a chance to get away? I don’t think so.”

Suguru moved, walking towards you as you stepped back. He was like a great white shark, circling the kitchen island, stalking his prey. Which just so happened to be you. Knowing that at any moment he could charge you, it had your pussy throbbing in need.

“Oh shit.” You looked around, thinking of what to do. Heading to the living room would result in a short-lived chase. If you took it to the bedroom, you might just end up begging for him to fuck you. “Fuck, fuck me.”

“Oh, I intend to. I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll have to cancel all of your plans tomorrow.” He smirked. “Not only will you not be able to walk, but I will mark you up. Make you even prettier than you already are.”

“T-That can only happen if you catch me.”

Hearing those words made Suguu’s body stiffen. His ab’s were rising and falling with labored breathing. Your eyes darted towards the prop knife, watching his fist clenched harder around it.

“If?” He asked, placing his free hand over the marble counter. “Baby, it’s not a question of if.” He leaned towards you. “It’s a question of when.”

Mouth dry, you gulped before slowly smirking. “Yeah, I’d like to see you try.”

“Ooh,” Suguru scoffed, “remember those words when my cock is slamming into your cervix.”

It happened so fast that it made your head spin. Like a predator, Suguru gracefully leaped, sliding over the marble countertop. Your jaw dropped as you stumbled back, staring at Suguru as he towered over you. He didn’t even give you a chance to process what was happening. His large hand grabbed you by the back of your neck. Suddenly, Suguru had you turned around and bent over the counter.

“What was that about seeing me try?” His voice was thick with need. “Well, look at you now, bent over the counter just like the heroine in your nasty. . .little. . .book.”

You knew that your inner thighs were slick with your arousal. “Oh my god.” You squirmed under Geto’s grasp, which made him push down on your neck harder.

“It was hard to imagine my sweet vanilla girlfriend getting off on something so dark and demented.” You jolted as he kicked at your ankles, spreading your legs further apart. “But seeing you like this, squirming, breathing heavily, I can see you aren’t as vanilla as I assumed.” His knee slid between your legs, pressing his knee firmly against your clothed cunt. “Tell me~ are you soaked, you nasty slut?”

“S-Sugu~!” You cried out, rocking your hips back against his knee.

“As pretty as my name sounded coming out of your mouth, it wasn’t an answer to my question.” His left hand slowly grazed under your shirt. “Perhaps I need to be rougher~?”

Before you could fathom that, cool steel grazed over the small of your back. The metal barely touched you, but it was still a sharp contrast against your rapidly heating skin that grounded you. Being grounded made things clearer as you realized that the prop knife Suguru was holding was, in fact, not a prop.

It was real.

“S-Suguru, is that real?”

Upon hearing your words, Suguru pulled the cool blade away. “Yeah, it is.” Suguru stared down at your bent form, waiting for you to respond. Your body had tensed up when he confirmed the steel was, in fact, real. “Are you okay? What color are you feeling? Talk to me, baby.” He wasn’t going to assume just because you hadn’t used your designated safe word or a color that, you were okay. “Babe, I need an answer.”

For just a moment, he assumed that maybe he had crossed a line. Before the doubt could settle in his gut, he watched as your stiff body melted against the kitchen island. Your hips rocked harder against his knee as your cunt throbbed through your leggings. A breath caught in his throat, seeing how you desperately humped his knee. Gritting his teeth, he fought against the urge to rock his hips against you. Despite your body’s actions and the desperation in your movements, he still needed an answer.

“Princess,” he groaned, “color.”

“Green!” You cried out, rocking harder. “Fucking green!”

“Good girl,” he fisted you t-shirt. “I’ll buy you another.”

You cocked an eyebrow, trying to look behind. “Another who—“You were cut off when Suguru stabbed the knife through your shirt. “Holy shit!” You slowed your movements as you listened to Suguru rip our shirt up the middle of your back.

“Oooh~ look at how pretty you are.” The knife slid under the hem of your leggings. “Bent over the counter.” With the jerk of his hand, you listened as your pants became his next victim. “Surrounded by the clothes I ripped off of you.”

He repeated the process, your thong and bra following your leggings, and that littered the floor. The whole situation was erotic; you felt your slick seep out of you, dripping shamelessly to the ground. You’d never been so fucking aroused. You needed Suguru so bad.

“S-Sugu, please!”

“Please, what?” His right hand left your neck, fingers trailing down your back. “Use your words.”

“Please, touch me!”

He hummed, training his fingers lower and lower before for inched over your ass. “Please!” a loud smack flooded the kitchen, followed by a sharp stinging pain over your ass.

“I told you to use your words, angel!” He snarled, pressing his body against yours. The knife pressed firmly against your cheek. “Tell me what you want slut.”

“F-Finger me! Fuck m, please! I need you!!” You cried out in desperation. Pleased with your begging, Suguru slapped your ass again before he wrapped his right arm around your waist, dipping between your legs. His fingers quickly began rubbing quick circles around your throbbing clit. “Fuck!!”

“Fuck, you’re soaking wet.” he increased the speed of his fingers, “it wouldn't take much to make you cum would it?”

He was right; it wouldn't take much to make you cum. “M-More!” You begged as he removed his knee. “Please don't te-AH!” Two thick fingers plunged inside your tight cunt.

“Heh,” he chuckled, “fuck your pussy is clamping down on me!” Suguru immediately set a brutal pace, curling his fingers up, reaching a little further as he rubbed your g-spot. “My dirty princess,” he fucked into your sweet spot over and over and over again. Not once letting up. “Does that feel good? I can feel your cunt twitching.”

“S-So good~! S-Sugu! Ah fuck, fuck!” his thumb reached up, rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts. “I-I’m gonna~!”

The cool steel of the knife pressed harder against your face. “Yeah?” Weakly, you opened your eyes, coming face to face with the Ghostface mask. “You look at me when you cum on my fingers.” His words made the coil in your abdomen tighten. “Eyes on me, angel~ you be a good girl and cum for me.” How could you deny him?

“C-cumming! I'm c-cumm—” A scream left your lips as you came. Your pussy clamped down on Suguru’s fingers as a stream of clear liquid squirted out of you. Feeling your juices hit the ground, spreading under his bare feet, ignited a need in Suguru.

“That's it!” He all but yelled. “Fuckin’ good girl~ so good.” Seeing you squirt always riled him up. Good god, he needed to see it again.

You had thought that he was going to work you slowly through your orgasm like he usually did. But not once did he slow down. Instead, he curled his fingers deeper, his pace not flattering, moving in and out faster and harder. All you could do was lay there, legs shaking as he finger fucked you.

“S-Suguru, w-what?!” you cried out as he growled in your ear.

“Again, I need you to fucking squirt again.”

“B-But Sugu, I want you!” Tears flooded your eyes, the pleasure becoming more intense with each thrust of his fingers.

“I know, I know, baby, give me one more and I fuck you.”

Seeing the tears spilling over your cheeks made Suguru throb harder. “Sugu~! I—” Suguru pressed the knife harder against your cheek.

“I don't remember asking. I’m telling you, you're going to squirt again.”

The chill of his words and the knife had your eyes rolling back. It was so overwhelming, so much pleasure. Your thighs were shaking, knees buckling in as he slammed directly into each g-spot. The coil tightened harder and harder until it snapped.

“That’s it!” Suguru praised, growling as your pussy fluttered around his fingers. “Come on, cum for me, cum on my fingers. Make a mess!” Your screams were music to his ears as he felt you cum. You squirted hard, coating your thighs, his jeans, and the floor.

He pulled his fingers out, glancing at your cum, that was dripping off his fingers. The two of you were breathing heavily, not saying a word. Suguru’s cock was so hard, the tip leaking pre-cum, painting the inside of his boxers. He knew you were enjoying this, but holy shit, he was enjoying it just as much, if not more.

“S-Sugu-”

Hearing your shaking voice brought him back to reality. His right hand gently rubbed up and down your back. “You okay? Need a break?” He watched as you shook your head. Your Y/E/C eyes were glazed over with lust as you pressed your ass back against his hips rubbing slowly against his cock.

“No fuck me, please fuck me. I-I need your cock.”

You listened to him growl deep in his chest. Suddenly, you heard his belt being undone, followed by his zipper. You didn't know what to expect. He seemed so calm and collected. But any average, calm person would not have tossed a knife to the ground. He most definitely would not have grabbed your hips so tight before suddenly slamming his cock deep inside your tight cunt.

The sudden fullness of his cock caused the air to escape your lungs. Your mouth formed an ‘O’ shape as Suguru pulled nearly out before slamming back inside you. Feeling your tight twitching walls hug his cock so snuggly had Suguru feral. He had no control over himself as he pounded your pussy, harder and harder with each thrust. He was so deep his tip gently pressed into your cervix.

“Oh, my fuckin fuck!” You cried out, his left hand gently pressing your head against the counter. “S-Su—gu—-ru!!” each syllable of his name was fucked out of you by his thrusts.

“Yeah~?” His hand left your head. Instead, his long fingers wrapped around your throat, gently squeezing. “Feels good? You like it like this?”

“Y-Yeah!! Deep so fucking deep!!”

“Fuck yeah, I am~ I feel your pussy clamping down. Did you imagine this~? Imagine me fucking you just as rough?” all you could manage to do was nod. “You like your stalker fucking your tight cunt?”

That sweet, smokey tone of his voice, your boyfriend's voice, had you clamping down harder on him. He was right; you did want this, and you fantasized about asking him to do precisely this. And he had fulfilled your fantasy, going above and beyond to make it perfect. He was perfect, so fucking good to you.

“Sugu~ Suguru~”

“Yeah? Tell me what you want~? Faster? Harder?” When you shook your head, he slowed his thrusts just a tad bit. “No~? What do you need.” His hand squeezed harder around your throat, cutting some of your air off.

You almost told him to keep going when he choked you like that. With a shaky moan, you turned, staring into the eyes of the Ghostface mask. “I-I want a kiss.” Out of all the things he had expected you to say, that wasn't one of them. But Get Suguru wasn't the kind of man to deny Y/L/N Y/N.

A whimper sounded from deep in your throat as Suguru gently pulled out. His hand slid down your curves, turning you around to face him. In the dying twilight light, you stared at the sweat beading against his skin, slowly running down his ab’s. Trailing your eyes up, his skin was illuminated by the soft pink and lilac tones from outside. After taking in his body, your Y/E/C landed on the mask.

His hand left your hip, tugging the mask off his head. Suguru’s dark eyes were glazed over with love and desire. His dark bun was messy; his bangs were sticking to his face by the sheen of sweat beading on his forehead. He was such a stunning man. And he was yours.

Tossing the mask to the side, Suguru’s hands grabbed your hips, placing you on the counter. As soon as you were settled, his lips slammed against yours in a heated kiss. One that made your toes curl as you matched his pace, kissing back with the same enthusiasm and force. It was the kind of kiss that made you moan into his mouth as he gently pulled you towards the edge, his free hand easing his hot cock back inside your pussy.

“Suguru.” You moaned against his mouth, allowing his tongue to slip inside. “Mhmm.”

Your tongues massaged each other in a slow sensual kiss as he fucked you deeply. It was so good. He tasted good, felt good, god, he smelt so good. Everything about this night was good.

“Fuck, Y/N-“ he growled, pulling away, “I love you. You feel so good, so perfect. You’re such a good girl.” His words made your heart race as you kissed him again.

“Love you too~ so much, thank you for this~” Your praises had him groaning deeply into your mouth. His thrusts increased in speed and power as he kissed you like you were the only thing keeping him alive.

Suguru slid his hand down between your conjoined bodies, rubbing your clit in fast circles. “Cum for me, Y/N, milk my cock, baby~ I wanna cum inside you.” Arching your back, a string of moans erupted from your mouth as you wrapped your legs around his waist. “Y/N fuck, yes, just like that~”

“I'm gonna cum!” you cried out against his mouth. “Sugu, I'm cumming baby~ c-cu—” Your warning was cut off by a scream as your walls clamped down on his cock, milking him.

“Fuck~! Fuck! You're so tight~ tighter than ever.” Suguru grunted, kissing and nipping at your neck as he bit down on your skin. “Focus on my cock~ feel me~ feel it~ Fuck! I'm cumming!” Pulling you tighter against him, Suguru’s thrusts became messy before you felt his cock throb hard. Ropes of hot cum filled your pussy, and he kept thrusting, fucking it deep inside you as he rode the waves of both your orgasms.

By the time he stopped, the sun was long gone, and the entire apartment was enveloped in darkness. Not that either of you cared. Nothing mattered as you two basked in the afterglow. Your heart rates and breathing went from ragged and fast-paced to shallow and calm. The entire time you came down, Suguru had you firmly pressed against his bare chest. He was holding you as close as he could as you both recovered.

Hours seemed to pass before Suguru slowly lifted you off the counter. You rested your head against his shoulder as he carried you to the bedroom, gently laying you on the bed. Without a word, Suguru left the room and returned with a bottle of water and a warm rag. He cleaned you up, his eyes occasionally meeting yours as he smiled fondly.

Your cheeks burned as you returned his loving smile. “Drink some water. I'll be right back,” he said, handing the bottle to you before heading back to the kitchen.

He was gone for several minutes before he returned. “Where did you go?” You asked, watching as he came back in just in his boxers.

“I wanted to clean up real quick,” he responded, crawling into bed and wrapping his toned arms around you. “Tossed my stuff in the washer, yours in the trash.”

“Damn,” you giggle, “I loved that shirt.” Suguru chuckled, pulling you tighter against him.

“Sorry, I'll buy you another.”

“Nah, it's okay.” you hummed, “it was a sacrifice I was willing to make.” You turned to face him. “Thank you again, that was so much fun.”

“Yeah, it was.” Suguru gently cupped your face in his hand. “I love you very much.”

“I love you too.”

He gently pressed a kiss against your lips. He was holding you firmly again at him. This evening was the perfect way to end a week. Fantastic sex snuggling your boyfriend, you couldn't ask for a more ideal night—a night where your fantasy had come true.

“So,” Suguru started, “I bought you the rest of the series of Leo’s Throne. We need to reenact some more scenes, I think.”

Pulling back, you couldn't stop the laughter rising in your chest. “Baby, seriously? Did you buy them for me or yourself?” you cocked an eyebrow as your boyfriend's cheeks flushed.

“What a silly question,” he pulled you on top of him, “I bought them for us!”

“You read the whole book, didn't you?”

“. . .”

“Oh my god, you did.”

“. . .I will say the ending had me running to the bookstore this morning. To have the hero—” You clamped your hand over his mouth.

“No spoilers!”

#jjk x reader #jjk men #jjk suguru #geto x reader #getou suguru x reader #suguru geto smut #suguru x reader #jjk smut #jjk reader insert #jjk x you #jjk geto #reader x geto

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soapsilly · 5 months

Text

Cardio - Roronoa Zoro Imagine

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Spoilers for One Piece (?), also kinda NSFW?

Summary: Ever since she joined the crew flirting with a certain green-haired swordsman has been (Y/N)'s favourite past time - even though she was told to not get her hopes up. Zoro doesn't do romance... or relationships... or situashionships. But what harm could a little harmless flirting do?

Requests are closed

************************************************************************

"So, (Y/N)-san, are you single?", the cook asked her during dinner. (Y/N) enjoyed that the crew ate dinner together every evening. It felt like family. Ever since she joined the Straw Hats the whole crew embraced her with open arms.

"Well, yes I am, but I'm hoping not for long", she answered the blonde but kept her eyes firmly trained on a certain green-haired swordsman that sat at the other end of the table, sending him a playful smile. It was no secret that the girl had cast an eye on the man know as the pirate hunter Roronoa Zoro, who, at the moment, didn't even seem to notice her advances.

"Oooh (Y/N)-swaaaan I humbly volunteer myself as your boyfriend and partner!~", Sanji exclaimed.

The newest member couldn't hold back her giggles, "And I would be honoured, Sanji. Truly! But what would poor Robin and Nami do if you were taken?"

"Oh but of course, how could I forget? (Y/N)-san, you are so thoughtful~ ! But don't worry. I have enough love for all three of you, Ladies~"

(Y/N) giggled at his sing-song voice. She really liked the whole crew - all of them - but there was one person she took an instant liking to.

"Oi, Marimo! It's your turn to do the dishes! Don't you think you can weasel yourself out of it again", Sanji's sing-song was quickly replaced by a harsh holler.

"Oh, I'll help!", (Y/N) exclaimed. She was almost shocked at herself being so excited at the prospect of doing the dishes but spending time with Zoro didn't seem so bad.

"No, no, no. (Y/N)-san, -", Sanji tried to protest but the girl insisted. And so, shortly after, she found herself standing next to the mosshead rinsing the dishes.

"Soooo, what are you plans for the evening?", she asked the man standing next to her.

"Training", he hummed.

"You do that alot"

"Comes with the goal of being the strongest"

"I admire that", she smiles at him. It was quiet in the kitchen. The only things to be heard were the clinking of the plates and the occasional swooshing of the water in the sink, "Can you teach me some?"

The swordsman let out a laugh, "That would take years"

"I mean, just the basics", she shrugged.

"As I said, that would take years"

"You're being difficult on purpose", she grew frustrated, "I'm just trying to get to know you a little, y'know? Spend some time with you..."

The kitchen fell silent for a few moments before she came up with another idea.

"Would you like some company then?"

He looked at her for a few seconds but then decided to send her a nod anyways - maybe because she helped him with the dishes or maybe because he truly didn't care.

"Great! That's far better anyways, I get to sit back and enjoy a nice cold iced tea while watching a hot guy exercise", she nudged him in the side but didn't get a smile back, "You know you're no fun, right?"

Just a little later the two of them found themselves on the deck - Zoro practicing his form and (Y/N) off to the side shouting over some things here and there.

"Wait, so you trained with Mihawk? That Dracule Mihawk? One of the seven warlords of the sea?", she was shocked. She knew Zoro was good - in fact the whole crew was known to be extremely strong especially for how young they were compared to other crews - but this really put into perspective how strong he probably was.

"You talk a lot, you know?", his voice was gruff.

"Oh... Sorry", she didn't mean to annoy him, "I just wanted to get to know you a little..."

When the fighter noticed how quiet she had become he sighed, "Yes, he trained me for two years"

Her eyes lit up at his answer, "How is he like??"

"You're doing it again, woman!!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!!!"

************************************************************************

It was early in the evening. The sun was set low on the sky, painting it in an aray of reds and oranges. Like usual Zoro was on deck training his skills like everyday. Most evenings (Y/N) would join him but tonight she wasn't there. The green-haired man didn't give it much thought though and just continued as usual until the girl entered the deck wrapped in a towel, her hair still damp.

"You shouldn't run around like this", he told her once she noticed her scantily dressed form, "Do you want the waiter to get a seizure?"

"Well, good thing we have a great doctor on the ship then", she answered, "But don't worry. This isn't for Sanji anyways"

Zoro raised his brows.

"Don't get ahead of yourself. It's not for you either", she paused for a second, squinting her eyes, "I mean... unless it's working?"

When he stayed quiet, she continued.

"I put my clothes out here. I like it when my clothes are warm and cozy after a shower"

When he looked over her shirt and shorts were indeed hanging over the railing.

"As much as I'd like to ge there someday, I don't think we're there yet sooo... Would you kindly turn around?"

Zoro scrambled to avert his eyes. Is she really getting dressed here on deck? He didn't get to think about it for long as he was smacked at the back of his head with her towel.

"Done", he heard her voice, "C'mon. Let's get some snacks"

She grabbed him by his sleeve and pulled him with her towards the kitchen.

************************************************************************

"So, I'll go shopping, Sanji-kun is going to accompany me to look for supplies. Franky decided to stay on the Sunny for maintenance, so all you others have free time to explore the island for yourselves. Get your allowances before you leave or I will add yours to mine", Nami anounced.

"Great, I'll go with Zoro", (Y/N) immediately looped her arm into the swordman's. Her exclamation was merely a formality at this point as the last times they explored different islands weren't any different. Looking for firewood, hunting, exploring the wildlife to make sure there wasn't any threat around them - (Y/N) teamed up with Zoro. The pirate hunter never objected, much to the girl's delight. Having some free time now, however, was a welcome change for the whole crew though.

Just as they were about to leave Nami stopped the other woman.

"Hey (Y/N), wait I need to talk to you for a sec"

"Sure, what's up, Nami?", (Y/N) beamed at the navigator.

"Oi, if the two of you want to have your chit chat either have it quick or have it later, I'm not waiting for you, (Y/N)!", Zoro shouted at his companion from where he was standing a few feet ahead already.

"Without my help, you wouldn't even find the bar! You have no choice but to wait for me!", she hollered back but then quickly turned to Nami, "But seriously, if he wanders off without me, he's probably lost forever, so we should be quick before I lose sight of him", she giggled.

"Yeah, about that... I wanted to talk to you about Zoro", Nami awkwardly scratched the back of her neck.

"Why what about him?", (Y/N) was still smiling brightly.

"I noticed you flirting with him... like a lot-"

"Oh... Is he-? Are you? Are the two of you- ?", (Y/N) could feel her cheeks heat up. That would explain why Zoro never really went for any of her flirts...

"Are we what? Oh... OH! Oh god no! Zoro and me? God forbid!", Nami looked shocked.

"Thank god", (Y/N) let out a relieved laugh, "but what is the problem then?"

"Well, Zoro doesn't really do romance or relationships. He never goes for it whenever girls try to flirt with him. He probably doesn't even notice it to be perfectly honest", Nami continued, "I don't want you to get your hopes up just to get disappointed in the end"

"Oh that", (Y/N) made a dismissive hand gesture, "I noticed already. It's fine though. I mean, as long as it doesn't bother him it doesn't bother me either. I like spending time with him", she shrugged but then hugged her friend, "thanks for looking out for me though"

Nami was a little confused but hugged her friend back. She didn't understand how she could be happily having a crush on someone with no sign of reciprocation but as long as she was happy Nami was happy.

"Oh shit. Where is that mosshead gone?? Sorry, Nami! I gotta run. Who know's where that idiot wandered off to?", (Y/N) laughed happily whilst already running in the direction she suspected the swordsman to have disappeared into.

************************************************************************

"You're buying", she grumbled.

"What, why?"

"Why? Are you serious? Because of you, we had to make a half-hour detour! My feet hurt... If you had just waited for me, we would've just taken a road straight into town but you had to wander into the forrest"

"I didn't force you to come with me, you know?"

She just huffed. It was quiet for a few moments then she heard a sigh.

"What do you drink?"

"You're the best!", she side-hugged the mosshead.

For the next hour, the two of them sat in the bar drinking and occasionally even joking around.

"Oof, I need some fresh air...", (Y/N) stumbled down from her bar stool.

"You're such a light-weight, it's a shame", Zoro let out a bark like laugh.

"And you're an alcoholic", she stuck out her tongue at him but then made her way out of the stuffy bar. Once outside she leaned against the wall to steady herself. She let a few deep breaths fill her lungs and thought about Nami's words from earlier once again. It really didn't matter if Zoro liked her back... did it? Nah...

She enjoyed spending time with him - be it as friends or as lovers. Eventhough, she much rather preferred one thing over the other. She knew Zoro never flirted back or even gave an indication that he even took notice of her attempts of gaining his affection but she knew that he at least enjoyed spending time with her, which was good enough for the girl. Maybe someday they could be something more than friends though...

It got chilly outside so she decided to enter the bar again. Once inside she saw Zoro sorrounded by a group of girls. (Y/N) furrowed her brows.

"You're the pirate hunter Roronoa Zoro!", one of the girls gushed.

"So?", he huffed.

"We heard that you and your crew challenged the world goventment", another girl continued.

"I'm trying to have a drink here...", Zoro tried to tell them. Unfortunately, those poor girls took this as an invitation to join him.

"Ah yes! A drink would sound lovely! I'd like a -"

"That seat is taken", the mosshead put his hand over the empty bar stool, where (Y/N) had just sat a few minutes prior. (Y/N) felt like her heart skipped a beat. Maybe he did indeed like he at least a little bit.

"Oh really? I don't see anybody", the girl that just tried to take (Y/N)'s seat demanded to know why she couldn't sit next to the swordsman.

(Y/N) took this as her sign to take action.

"Thaaaaank you, love, for keeping my seat safe", she threw her arms around the man, "and who are your friends here?", she asked sweetly. (Y/N) didn't have a problem with the group of women sorrounding Zoro - not at all. She just decided to help him out here.

"I don't know them", he grumbled.

The group awkwardly shuffled away, mumbling something about being fans but needing to get going now.

(Y/N) turned to the pirate hunter with a wide grin on her face.

"For real though, thanks for saving my seat"

"I just want to have my drink in peace. They seemed annoying", he shrugged, "Why is your face all red?", he asked her.

Her face fell, "I'm drunk... idiot"

************************************************************************

It was right after a fight. Most of the Straw Hats were unharmed - a few scatches here and a few bruises there. Nothing Dr. Chopper couldn't fix.

"That's going to be a scar, I'm sure of it", Nami complained about a cut she had suffered on her thigh.

"Don't worry, Nami!", (Y/N) yelled over from where she was sitting on the floor, "I think scars are sexy!"

"Oh really? Then why do I remember you almost having a mental breakdown after needing stitches on your forearm?", the red-head wasn't having it.

"First of all, that was my pretty arm! The other one already had blemishes...", (Y/N) rolled her eyes, "and second of all, I obviously wasn't talking about myself but rather on other people, isn't that right Zoro?" The girl sent the mosshead a shameless wink clearly alluding to the numerous scars that decorated the fighter's body.

Before Zoro had the chance to react, Sanji chimed in, "How come the stupid marimo is now somehow getting praise for sucking at fighting and always getting hit? Some of us are good enough to come out of a fight unharmed, you know?"

"What? WHAT? It's not my fault I'm actually fighting actual opponents! The only thing you are fighting are your eybrows", Zoro immediately shot back. It didn't take long for the two of them to be at each other's throats. Usually it would be Nami to separate them but everybody was too tired, so they just let them have at it.

************************************************************************

(Y/N) had only heard of the massive feasts the Straw Hat pirates had after every fight - Luffy baited her with them to lure her into joining the crew, but this was far bigger then she had anticipated. There was more food than she could ever eat, enough alcohol for the whole island - and some more just for Zoro - and Brook played his most popular tunes.

(Y/N) was pleasantly buzzed already when she decided to join Zoro where he was sitting in the corner of the room. On her way there she grabber herself a cup and a big bottle of rum, once she plopped down next to him she poured herself a cup and then handed him the rest of the bottle, knowing he'd empty any cup she could've given him in an instant anyways. He didn't complain and gladly took it.

"Are you having fun?", she yelled over the music.

"As long as I have a drink I'm always having fun", he answered her and indeed, he did look like he loosened up for a change.

She sent him a smile and raised her glass at him before taking a deep swig. For a while the two of them just sat in comfortable silence. She knew flirting with him was kind of her thing by now but at the moment she just wanted to enjoy spending time with her friend. If things would always stay the way they were right now - things wouldn't be half bad.

"You did good today", Zoro was talking about the battle they had earlier.

"Am I hearing right? I must've bumped my head... A compliment! By the pirate hunter Roronoa Zoro! I feel honored", she feigned shock.

"Don't get ahead of yourself. I meant you did good for your standards", he added with his lopsided grin that always made her heart skip a beat. To conceal an upcoming squeal she took another drink out of her cup. Okay, maybe staying friends wouldn't be as easy as she had hoped for - at least not with the adrenaline from the fight and the alcohol from the party still rushing through her veins.

"Why is your face all red?"

"You're not usually that observant, are you?", she grimaced.

"You'd be surprised", he smiled goofily before taking another big gulp of his drink.

Before (Y/N) had the chance to even think about what the swordsman was saying there, the song changed and so did the expression on the girl's face. A wide smile lit up her features and she excitedly turned to her friend next to her, who had no idea yet what she was about to propose to him.

"I know that song!", she sounded like a little child in a candy shop, "Do you dance?"

"Never", he barked out a laugh but made sure that she knew that he was aboslutely serious.

She pouted for a second but didn't want to waist any time before the song was over.

"Your loss", she shrugged and then skipped over to where Luffy, Usopp and Chopper where already dancing together arm in arm, joining them and singing at the top of her lungs.

************************************************************************

"Okay you know how it is! We need a team for supplies, a team for guard duty, a team for hunting... you know the drill", Nami announced. The Straw Hats had just arrived on a new island neither of them knew personally. Robin had read about it in one of her books but other than that none of them knew what they would find there. Robin already decided that she would explore the ruins that were supposed to be hidden deep in the woods - the island was supposed to be abandoned - but the others had to divide the remaining tasks among themselves.

(Y/N) was just about to announce that she was gonna team up with Zoro when the swordfighter himself interrupted her.

"(Y/N) and I take guard duty", he spoke up.

"No surprise there", Nami commented.

It was true that the two of them, (Y/N) and Zoro, usually teamed up - today would have been no exception. What was different though, was that it was usually always (Y/N) that would just decide for them to be a team - Zoro most of the time had no choice but to simply go along with it. Today - though - today was different and nobody but (Y/N) caught on. She was so busy with her thoughts that she didn't notice the other guys leave until it was suddenly just her and Zoro all alone on that big ship they called their home.

"So, guess it's just you and me, huh?"

"We don't have to talk, you know?", Zoro stated matter of factly, already preparing himself for a nice long nap.

"I know a few things we could do instead of talking, you know?", she repeated his statement, "In fact, it's gonna be a good few hours before any of them come back... a lot of things one could do in that time... instead of talking I mean", she pursed her lips as if she was really thinking about different possibilities instead of clearly alluding to one thing, before sending the fighter a grin.

"You keep flirting with me" - it was more of a statement than a question. There was no emotion in Zoro's voice that would have given the girl any indication as to how he felt about the fact. She felt her heart drop. And the others would only return in a couple of hours... this was gonna be uncomfortable.

"You - you noticed?"

"Of course, why wouldn't I?"

"Nami said something along those lines a while back..."

"Nami always thinks she knows everything" - there was still no reaction on his face.

"Does it bother you? I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable", (Y/N) could feel her face heat up. She felt bad and embarrassed at the same time.

"Bother me?", he let out a dry laugh - finally a sign of emotion, but now (Y/N) still didn't know what to make of it - "There's worse things in life than a pretty girl flirting with you"

(Y/N) let out a sigh of relieve. She would've been mortified if she made her friend uncomfortable in any way. The compliment didn't even register until a few moments later.

"Oh is that so?", a devious smile lit up her face but as fast as it appeared it disappeared again when she realized something, "Wait but why did you never flirt back? I mean, not even with me... but also with all those girls that always try to get with you... like those girls in the bar a few months back"

"Do I look like the ero-cook or what?", he truly looked insulted but (Y/N) didn't settle for that cheap of an answer. When she stayed quiet he continued, "Girls like these are always annoying. Idolizing you and wanting you to share your drinks with them. I mean not that you're not also annoying but looks like I'm not getting rid of you anytime soon", he shrugged.

When the girl heard that she squinted her eyes, "You know, I'll choose to take that as a compliment". A wide smile lit up her face as she made her way over to the mosshead, "You liiiike meeee", she teased him as she almost was chest to chest with the taller man.

"I liked the you from two minutes ago... You know? When you were too shocked to even form a sentence"

"And I liked the you that just called me pretty", she tried to look serious as she looked up at him, their faces only a few inches apart, before her face split into a grin again as she got on her tippy toes and pecked the swordfighter on his lips.

When she tried to pull back Zoro however had already cupped her face with both of his hands, going in for another kiss. (Y/N) hands almost automatically found their way into the pirate hunter's green hair and for a while the two of them just stood there as if the world stood still until Zoro parted from her lips.

"You know, I think you were right", his voice was low, barely more than a growl, "we do have the ship to ourselves for at least another two or so hours..."

"I'm a fucking genius", she mumbled agains his lips breathing heavily already.

"Jump", he commanded.

She knew exactly what he wanted from her, so without parting from his lips she did as she was told. He caught her with ease as she wrapped her legs around his waist, carrying her into the sleeping quarters of the Sunny. Once inside he laid her onto her matress, only breaking the kiss to basically tear the clothes off of her body.

"Fuck", he took the time to admire the woman in front of him. The cold air from suddenly being exposed had led to goosebumps forming on her body.

"Zoro" - when he heard her impatient whining it was his time to tease her now, taking his time with undressing himself before finally crawling on top of her again. Every touch felt electric, his skin felt hot against hers as she arched her back into him. Anything to get closer to him.

"Is that what you've been thinking about all this time, huh?", his voice was hoarse as he leaned down nibbling on her earlobe. Instead of an answer he earned himself a breathless moan, which in turn seemed to have it's effect on him.

"Zoro, please...", she whined. The swordfighter enjoyed seeing her like this. For months now he had grown to like the overly confident young woman - eventhough her big mouth could become exhausting after a while - but now there was no more sassy banter anymore. Right now all that counted was how good her body felt against his and how perfectly his name sounded when she moaned it.

He leaned down for another kiss, which she eagerly returned. His hands found their way into her hair tuggin at the strands, making the girl underneath him gasp from the sudden sensation. He isn't know to be a patient man but he thought to himself that he was gonna take his sweet time with this - partly to tease her, partly because he wanted to savour every moment of it - but (Y/N) had other plans. As they parted she looked up at him, lips swollen from the make out session and she looked to damn perfect. And then he felt her hand wandering down his torso and between his legs. To hell with taking it slow - they could always squeeze in a round two, he thought, as he pinned the girl's hand over her head and started kissing down between the valley of her breasts.

************************************************************************

"Well, that was a failure", Nami complained to Sanji as they walked up the gangway to the Sunny. This island was puny. There way nothing interesting there. Not only were there indeed no people left, but there was also no sign of human life at all. No abandoned shops. No ghost town. Nothing. And even the trees in the forrest barely held enough fruit to top up their food supplies for the next part of the journey, so that they definitely would have to make a stop at yet another island before going on to their actual destiny.

"At least Robin-chwan had luck with her ruins", the cook babbled along, delighted at the thought of at least one of the women having had a good time. Most of the crew had found their way back to the Sunny again - all of them with similar news - except for Nico Robin, who indeed had found what she was looking for.

"Hey guys we're... back? Where are they?", the navigator was just about to announce their early arrival when she noticed that neither (Y/N) nor Zoro were anywhere to be found on the deck.

"They're not in the crow's nest either", Sanji confirmed, "What if something terrible happend to (Y/N)-san? I know it was a mistake leaving her here with that second class sword-clown"

"Calm down, Sanji", Chopper assured him, "Zoro probably wandered off again and (Y/N) now has to make sure he isn't lost or something. The island is abandoned. Nobody attacked them"

"That's just as bad, that stupid marimo", Sanji swore under his breath.

Nami was just about to answer the cook when a loud crash followed by a "fuck" interrupted her train of thought.

************************************************************************

Zoro and (Y/N) just laid there at the moment, the sheets lazily draped over their exposed bodies. Zoro was just about to propose a round two when they heard the voices of Nami and that ero-cook outside of the cabin coming continuously closer.

"What are they doing back already?", (Y/N) looked panicked, scrambling out of bed trying to gather her clothing but only so far finding her bra, "Where the fuck are my clothes?"

Zoro couldn't help but laugh at the sight of her running around like a headless chicken. He was in no rush to get dressed - he much rather enjoyed the show that unfolded before his eyes.

"Stop laughing, Zoro, and help me", she whined. He noticed that her whining wasn't as annoying anymore... endearing rather.

"And what do you want me to do?", he laughed but actually got out of bed and gathered his clothes along with some of hers.

"Here", he handed her her panties, which she gladly took and tried to hastily put on. In the rush, however, she wobbled on one leg and then stumbled backwards into a dresser.

"Fuck"

"Good job... I'm sure they won't be coming straight in here now", Zoro sarcastically commented. How did he already get his pants and shoes on???

Unfortunately though, Zoro was right. The once muffled voices of their crew mates were coming closer and closer. As much as he enjoyed seeing her struggle, time was running out now and the swordsman was not about to let (Y/N) be exposed like that, so he held out his green robe for her.

For a moment she hesitated.

"Are you sure?"

"It's wide. Easier to slip into than those tight clothes of yours", he shrugged - that was one reason, sure, another reason was, that he really wanted to see the waiters face when he saw (Y/N) in his clothes.

"That's nice", she smiled at him, "smells like you"

When he saw her in his clothes, there was a feeling in his chest he couldn't quite place. It was too big for her, the sleeves hanging over her hand and one side of the collar falling off of her shoulder exposing the naked skin underneath. He grabbed her jaw with one of his hands, making her cheeks puff out adorably and pressed a firm kiss on her lips.

"We should do this more often"

(Y/N) was just about to answer when the door to the sleeping rooms flew open. The girl tried to step away from Zoro as soon as she noticed that they weren't alone anymore but apparently not soon enough.

"Here you are! You know guard duty means guard duty and not nap time...", Nami's voice trailed off once she processed the image that presented itself infront of her.

Once she did, she began shrieking, "What do you two think you're doing???"

(Y/N) slipped out of the room squeezing past the red-head, closely followed by Zoro but to her horror outside most of the crew already stood and waited aswell.

"We - we were...", (Y/N) was usually quick-witted but right now her mind drew a blank.

"Doing cardio", Zoro chimed in from behind her, still shirtless and seemingly not bothered by the situation at all.

"Yep", (Y/N) went along with it, "Cardio"

Robin, who of course caught on to the situation, snickered behind her hand but refused to enlighten Dr. Chopper as to why that was funny, not wanting to tarnish the gullible reindeer's innocence.

Sanji however found nothing humorous in the situation - almost in shock he turned to (Y/N), "(Y/N)-san! I'm sorry I left you alone on this ship with this pervert! I promise I'll make it up to you"

"What did you just call me, ero-cook?"

"You heard me! If you just as much as put a single finger on (Y/N)-san I'll make you regret it"

"Sorry, to disappoint you, but I did a little more than that", Zoro laughed.

That was enough for the cook to lunge for the swordsman, "You are not good enough for her! You dirty bastard!"

Nami massaged the bridge of her nose. First, the island turned out to be a total failure and now this.

"Look what you've done. No more guard duty for the both of you", she deadpanned.

"Sick! I hate guard duty", (Y/N) grinned.

"I meant together", the navigator pressed out between her teeth.

"Oh! Yeah. I can't promise that", the other woman nodded thoughtfully and then turned to leave but then remembered one last thing.

"Oi, Nami!", the red-head looked up to where the voice was coming from. From behind her, (Y/N) could see Usopp furiously signaling for her to shut up - and (Y/N) knew she really should listen to him - but there was this little voice in the back of her head telling her to poke the bear, so she continued, "by the way... you were wrong!"

The last thing (Y/N) saw, before a furious Nami was chasing after her was a facepalming Usopp but she didn't have the time to justify her decision because the navigator was hot on her heels, with a raised hand. A punishment she usually only reserved for Luffy and sometimes Zoro whenever they were being stupid but (Y/N) guessed that the stress from today paired with the reminder of her error about the advice she gave (Y/N) about Zoro, was too much for the red-head.

"Sanjiiiiii, help! Nami's gone crazy and is trying to kill meeeee", she screamed at the top of her lungs as she was fully sprinting away in order to not get hit.

"I'm coming, (Y/N)-saaaaaan~", the cook sing-songed.

And as Nami was chasing after (Y/N) and Sanji was chasing after the two of them, she couldn't help but think about how she wouldn't wanna be anywhere else at the moment than on this ship with those idiots. Especially a certain green-haired swordsman that she had liked for a while and - as she now just found out - wasn't as clueless as she thought.

#roronoa zoro x reader #one piece imagine #roronoa zoro imagine #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro imagine #one piece x reader #one piece

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