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shushposting · 3 days

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I can be your Prince or I can be your Dragon

Possessive Full Demon Form Vox, intersex Val, toxic relationships because Vox and Val being Vox and Val, they’re so codependent it's disgusting can you have make up sex and hate sex at the same time? Yeah kind of.

Valentino stays gone too long after a fight, Vox doesn’t handle it well

It’s a dance at this point, well practiced and predictable. They fight, they break apart, they fuck, and the broken pieces fit back together. It didn’t matter how many times they stormed out they always always came back.

But even the most practiced dances stumble sometimes, right?

Valentino had walked out of the Vees tower two weeks ago. The longest he's ever stayed away in all their years of euphoric highs and sickening lows. Any attempt Vox made to contact him was ignored. Texts left on read, calls dumped to Vmail, assistants baring messages and gifts shot and left wherever they crumpled. That was the first week and by the tenth day, the texts and calls stopped.

After that, it got more drastic. TVs in the hotels he stayed or in window displays where Valentino walked on the streets burst. Voxtek appliances shorted and sparked or just combusted once he touched them. Lights shattered in his clubs, showering him with sparks and colored glass.

The moth’s last frayed nerve snapped when the next casualty was his phone. He'd only glanced at a text from Velvette that he needed to haul ass back home before every contact and app changed to Vox's speed dial.

Vox vox voxxy V̸̨̊o̶̺͛ ̴̀ͅxv̴̎͜o̸̰̐x̵̢̚x̶̡̒v̴̙̕oVox ̷̬́x̸̪̊ẍ̵͎v̷̱̍ȏ̶̧x̶̄͜Y̴̞̚v̸̟̓Ǒ̸͎X̴̞̍V̸̄͜ö̸̟́X̴̫̀vXY̸͌ͅo̵͖̓Ơ̶̯0̴̡͂0̸͕͘x̶̉͜

The thing rapidly heated and glitched in his hand until the screen cracked. He'd just barely managed to throw it down before it shattered apart with a sharp pop!

Under threat of being sent back to the goddamn stone age Valentino finally relents, he tells Dia to call his car for him and thankfully she's able to do it with minimal static and sparking around the phone. The car was suspiciously close, too close for it to not have been waiting on standby for him. It's not his usual driver who opens the door for him, it's Vox's and he's not asked where it is he wants to go. He swears he sees Vox's eye staring at him in the driver's V-Watch through the partition the whole way back to the tower.

The walk to the media overlord's surveillance room is.. honestly a shitshow. Vox's area of the tower was always pristine, sleek, and perfect. Now it looks like a war zone, with pieces of employees and debris scattered along the floor. Lights hang from their fixtures in ugly wirey tangles, ceiling tiles broken on the floor, elevator doors stand jarred between floors, doors not able to close properly and ding obnoxiously. One shudders to life and opens for him, the light overhead indicating the destination was Vox's lair.

It's not a smooth ride but it doesn't drop him to a temporary death either. Small mercies. It does leave him though, the second he steps into Vox's private space the thing slams shut behind him and groans back up the chute, stranding him.

Wires and cables writhe like snakes along the floor, the ceiling, and walls; all feeding back to the bank of monitors. Vox's highbacked chair was in a gnarled heap, torn from where it had been fastened to the floor, more wires coming up from the hole it had left. The TV demon himself hung in front of the screens, the cables connected to his body holding him aloft like a puppet. Or maybe he was just standing. It was hard to tell with Vox's disjointed limbs, too-long cables and wires lengthening his joints like some grotesque doll. And he said Val was theatric.

Valentino's own reflection looks out from the screens. Recordings and still shots of him over the last two weeks cover every monitor. In his clubs, hotels, the street, looking up at him from his phone before the damn thing detonated. Right in front, the one Vox was fixated on, was the live feed of him standing there in the here and now.

"And you get mad at me for wrecking shit?" Val says to his partner's back- might as well get this shit started "I take a siesta and you trash the whole tower while I'm out."

"G⦻N3" The glitched snarl seemingly comes from everywhere as the screens go red, Vox's black-ringed hypnotic stare broadcast across each one, glaring down at him "Not 'out'. You were gone."

A sneer pulls Valentino's upper lip off his teeth "Oh excuse me, I didn't know I had a fucking curfew."

"Two weeks" In a surging wave of sparking cables Vox is in his face, bodily slamming him against the wall.

"Ow- Goddammit, Vox-"

"You left me." Vox's claws fist into the ruff around his partner's neck as wires wrap painfully around him, sparks of electricity singing the fur. "For two weeks. You. Left. Me."

"Oh poor fucking baby," Valentino growls through a mocking grin, sucking in the electrical smoke and hissing it back out red and thick, cocooning around them as his body threatens to change, to grow monstrous in the face of Vox's own more demonic form even if it makes the wires cut into his skin.

They snarl and growl in static glitches and insectoid chirps, pushing and pulling at each other with too-sharp claws. Val's teeth grow in his mouth, snapping loud in front of Vox's screen when the hypnotic stare tries too obviously to catch his eye.

"You want to bite me? Here-" Vox's throat is suddenly right in his face, synthetic skin pressing against sharp dripping fangs. The hold feels suspiciously like a hug, cradling the back of Valentino's head as he tucks him into the crook of his neck, offering to let him bite and rip. "-bite. I don't give a fuck if we're fighting. Scream. Cuss me out. Hit me. Level this goddamn tower to a parking lot, Valentino I. Don't. Care. But you will fucking come home when I call you."

And fuck if that horrible- pathetic- declaration doesn't have Valentino's hips rolling up against Vox's leg where it pins him between his legs and takes the invitation to break skin under his teeth. "You miss me that bad, Papi?"

Vox's groan is miserable and angry, the cables writhing and tightening around Valentino's limbs, but he grinds his own aggression-hardened cock down to meet his partner's rolling. "You're not supposed to stay gone."

Electricity crawls across his skin as he lets go of Valentino's neck fluff to forcefully lace their hands together. The moth retaliates against the shocks by moving to the TV demon's shoulder and sinking his teeth in there too. Their hips slot together, rocking their cocks against each other, Valentino's pink-tinged slick dampening the panties under his short dress and the front of Vox's slacks. Finally back in step with their dance.

"We have a goddamn deal, Val." The surging electricity burns them both, smoke wafting off Valentino's fur and from Vox's overloaded processors. Burns down their arms, raising lighting-shaped marks to their joined hands where rings manifest around their fingers, the delicate chain joining them unseen between their clasped palms. "We don't leave each other. You don't leave me."

Valentino laughs bratty and condescending, breathing more red into the air around them, "Maybe if you reminded me more often why I shouldn't then I wouldn't have to take a two-week vacation fucking and getting fucked like I deserve. You've not really been acting like my prince have you? I thought I was supposed to be your Princesa?"

The eyes watching him from all over the room spark and glare and threaten to drip digital tears. His poor, hopeless little Voxxy. His ingrained 1950s ego was too fragile to even insinuate he wasn't doing enough, wasn't The Man, wasn't the steadfast and proper provider. That he was failing as a lover. Vox's screen flashes lines of rainbow before going blue, white text typing out frantically

Mine. Mine minemiN3youucaN'+1eavemme3y0u're MmineCaNT13avemem1n3on1ymine

Vox tears through his fishnets and raises bloody lines on his thigh as he pulls Valentino's leg up to hook over his hip. The cables tighten and yank sharply, taking them down to the floor. He's not easy either when he goes up under the tight little skirt, blindly slitting the soaked panties straight down the middle, not minding whether or not he nicks his partner. The grinding, insectoid hiss tells him he must have and the thick cherry scent of Valentino's pheromones flooding the air tells him he liked it.

Finally, some attention. The moth rolls his hips against the sharp points making them slide and rub over his cunt, teasing himself as an obscene gush of candy pink slick coating the media overlord’s fingers and dripping down his wrist. "Come on, Papi. I'm yours? Show me."

Vox's digital face loads back in sharp and snarling, bringing the fingers to his mouth, licking his fingers clean before grabbing Valentino by the jaw and spitting it back into his panting mouth "You taste like a whore, Princess."

He snaps his belt at the buckle, not bothering to try and undo it before tearing his zipper down. He doesn't tease or let his tip kiss up sweet and slow like he has for decades when they come back together and he's winning his princess back. The push is sharp and faster than either of them are ready for, fucking like they fought, full of snapping teeth and cutting claws. The media overlord is ruthless, thrusting hard enough that they slide across the floor. Valentino tears a bloody wrist out of the wires to press above them to keep his head from knocking against the wall, stilettos slipping loudly as he digs his heels into the polished floor trying to give just as good as he got.

"I'm going to kill every worthless nobody you let touch you." His voice crackles over the wet sound of driving himself into the moth's cunt, "Your pussy is mine. I don't give a fuck who you let suck you off or how many whores you stick your dick in. But this-" Two fingers slip in beside his cock, "is mine. Nobody else fucks you. I'm going to start hanging them flayed in the streets, do you understand me?"

Long tongue swiping at the drool and blood painting his lips Valentino arches up with a chuckling moan, gushing and dripping around Vox's cock. "Mmhm, medieval. My Prince knows how to make my heart flutter."

"Maybe I'm done being a prince." Vox leans all his weight into the hand laced with Valentino's with a static rumble, hilting hard until he can see the outline of himself through Valentino's belly with each deep stroke, "Maybe I need to be a dragon and keep my princess in his tower where he belongs. Keep you tied up in silks and jewelry until I get home and I can show you you're mine over and over and over. How many times do you think I would have to write 'mine' with my tongue inside you before you came?"

"Oh fuck- Vox"

"If that doesn't work I'm sure I can make a lock strong enough. Whatever it takes. What about this Val? Would this keep you?” There’s a whirr and a vibration pulses from his cock.

Valentino wails, hand leaving the wall and flying to the vibrating bump buried in his guts, feeling like it was jarring down to his bones and he gushes. “Vox Vo- Papi, please fuck”

“Say you’re mine, Val.” Vox growls, hips snapping faster, the hand tucked in beside his cock slipping out to hold him by the neck. “Tell me you know you’re mine.”

“Yours, Vox. Ah-always yours- only yours”

He pulls Valentino into a kiss by the throat, and they rut like that, rocking and shouting around each other’s tongue until the vibrations pushed them over the cathartic edge of orgasm.

The cables don’t loosen. Vox’s body doesn’t return to form.

“Val.” Static laced lips rub softly across the moth’s “If you ever leave me like that again I’m dragging you back to this tower and I’m chaining you to it.”

Valentino only laughs, long tongue dragging across the screen. “Wear the dragon attachment and it’s a date.”

#staticmoth #voxval #hazbin vox #hazbin valentino #yall hungry? I'm hungry #the dragon thing has been knocking around in my head and I had to get it out #quick little dibble dabble drabble #they’re horrible #but oh so fun

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bigshotautos · 2 years

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dark candy

#spamvil #spamton #jevil #big shot spamton #this was coloring practice gone out of hand #kind of a really late follow up to jevil in cyber city. spamton in card kingdom

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rosenfey · 8 months

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"Remember our first meeting? It was quite a fortuitous timing on your part." "How could I forget? I remember pulling your hand out of a rock." "I remember you giving it quite a smack too. Still, I am ever so grateful for that timely intervention. And, well, for everything that came afterward."

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3edit #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #bg3 spoilers #*fae creations #*fae.gif #*bg3 #pairing: the wizard and the fae #oc: faerene rosenhall #THEM. she really did pull him by literally pulling him hand-first out of his own spell gone wrong #and then they get meowried :o)#psshh im experimenting with different colorings #yes thats exactly what this is. just coloring practice. nothing self-indulgent here #that was a lie. everything is self-indulgent here because I have no shame

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crossbackpoke-check · 2 years

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Hi! Its the Anon re Mo and Zegras hanging out. So I got this from the interview of Mo on the spitting chiclets podcast (which...I really dont like spitting chiclets but I had to listen bc Mo). But if you want to listen to it, the interview (either podcast or youtube version) as a whole is like an hour and is incredibly interesting and the part re zegras is brief at 2 hours 1 min if you would like - Mo apparently chilled with the U18 USNDTP guys so it fits your story! Thanks again for your lovely thought spirals!

😪 literally just listened to the broadscast round table discussion on hockey media today lmao so my ire for sp*tting ch*clets is even more than normal! which is quite a lot! thank you for your service (✊😔 listening to That Podcast and sharing the important information so the rest of us may have content without suffering)

on a better note OH MY GOD i’m???? no words. how would they interact the dynamic this now gives the calder contention why did no one talk about this before 🤌🤏🫴🫰mo & z FRIENDS? frenemies?? is zegras mentioned by name?? which usntdp u18s were named or was it just mentioned as the entire (gestures towards amoeba in a FUCK OR DIE t-shirt) vague conglomerate Entity™️ that is the usntdp??

#me seeing you in my inbox again: HI BESTIE HOW ARE YOUUUUU #i’m not debating listening to it just for mo i’m not (mo reilly voice: willpower)#but i might google a transcript. or someone’s highlights post of the interview but i want the character information but i hate b*rstool 🤬#liv in the replies #i’m so. i’m so. ????????????????????????????? babe ur kids leave for one summer & you’re having empty nest syndrome #where did i put. hang on did i post it yet somewhere i had a moment about the couch poem i’ve got to find it i’m out here like i refuse #but also it just lives in my brain now the mold is in the tupperware folks & it’s not coming out hEY DO YOU EVER THINK ABOUT HOW JOE VELENO #IS CANADIAN AND SO IS JAMIE DRYSDALE HOLD ON LET ME GOOGLE SOMETHING #HAND OVER MY MOUTH SCREAMING FLAILING ALICE YOU’RE THE LOVE OF MY LIFE YOUR HOCKEY TEAMMATES WEBSITE IS THE 👌🧑‍🍳💋✨ BELOVED BEAUTIFUL PERFECT #S H R I E K I N G i. i typed in joseph veleno because i was like ‘official prospect right like they’d full name him’ & it went ‘ha that #doesn’t exist’ & i’m like oh no have i found the man that this system doesn’t even know?? but we’re not that niche ! joe isn’t !! & tHEN I #TYPE IN JOE & IT POPS UP & JOE&JAMIE PLAYED CANADA U20 ‘22 TOGETHER I CAN SPIN A NARRATIVE HERE SOMEHOW but i just about fell out my chair #i’m not retyping that tag but i mean 2020 which is the year z won gold & jamie was PISSED at him about it & at this point mo & joe had #already been playing together on the griffins & somehow?? z & mo saying hi after the draft running into each other at worlds OH MY GOD THE #FULFILLMENT OF THE NARRATIVE THAT’S THE EPILOGUE THEY HAVE THAT COUCH MOMENT & THEN A YEAR LATER EPILOGUE THEY’RE BOTH IN LOVE WITH BOYS ON #TEAM CANADA STANDING DOWN BY THE GLASS AT THEIR PRACTICE IN THEIR DIFFERENT COLORS JUST LIKE THE DRAFT mo in wings red z in anaheim black #but now mo in germany black z in usa rw&b somehow there’s something there about them reversed colors but idk yet & maybe it’s nothing more #than a nod a hello the gentle knowing of each other in companionable silence z looking up after joe shoots a puck at mo on the glass & z #says ‘that’s yours? your island?’ & mo says yeah & of course trevor hasn’t quite found his yet but there’s a comfort in knowing that someone #else has gone before you someone else made it through & maybe it’s just that jamie catches his eye here & dramatic irony we the reader know #the future here but of course trevor doesn’t mo’s smiling stupid big & z’s watching them skate around gets caught on number 6 (trevor’s no.9 #& somewhere in my brain there’s a thing about reversed tarot cards/flip sides of a mirror/mo & z parallels more like tangent lines but #jamie/z sine waves collapsing idk it’s just brring up there we’ve got mo/z NARRATIVE FOILS OKAY) & of course what z actually says to mo #what he calls joe is a poignant callback to the couch island discussion which i have not written & thus cannot properly state bc. no context #love to fully go off the rails about something unrelated to literally anything & also does not make sense unless you’ve read the post #i’m talking about which i will reblog in one moment see above and/or below i don’t know chronology it’s a poem bUT OH IF I KEEP BABY MO & Z #AS HOCKEY PLAYERS I CAN HAVE DYLAN HAVE A CONVERSATION WITH THEM as the au pair when they’re twelve & do you think everything would be #different if they could’ve known when they were twelve that it was okay for hockey not to be everything to have someone sit them down & tell #them they are loved & good enough & i’m not saying this like it’s bad right now but also i’m thinking about that one post that talked about #how we do not love men & now i am projecting onto au pair dylan who maybe burned out of hockey but takes care of these kids now can take

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ramonathinks · 7 months

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Say His Name | SUKUNA

Say his name three times and he shall appear, fucking virgins before he disappear.

tags: (18+, minors and ageless blogs dni) corruption, virginity loss, monster-fucking, double cocks, mouth fucking, pet names (pet, my human, female), oral(f! receiving), handjobs, nipple play, fingering, creampies, copious amounts of cum, tummy bulge, sex in sukuna’s domain, overstimulation, mirror sex

notes: early i did originally plan an entire kinktober but lol (18+ banner/divider made by @/cafekitsune. repost from my first ever kinktober 🥂

“SUKUNA, SUKUNA, SUKUNA.” Call it childish for believing in such tales. But you wanted it to be true. Looking in the darkly lit bathroom of your dorm bathroom you groaned, blowing the candle out. You flipped the light switch back on.

You’d been hearing about it all year. But you should’ve known better than to believe a silly little legend like this. But you were a blushing and bubbling mess of a virgin. So hearing of some mysterious sexy man who fucks virgins with no strings attached seemed too good to be true and you just had to test this theory. But really you should’ve known better. You were too old to believe in such things but you were all dolled up just for him.

You’d been waiting until everyone on your floor was gone and you put on your best and sexiest lingerie. You weren’t expecting to wear this for such a man that everyone has described but you were ready. You were thinking maybe for a boy who’s eventually won your heart you’d wear this to give yourself away.

Your hair was down in a medium length silk press, wearing puffy pink ugg slides and a short pink fuzzy nightgown that hugged every inch of your body, amplifying your busty breast all for show. You even went with no panties.

All for him.

All for a no show.

Sighing, you reached for your shower caddy and got prepared to wrap your hair.

But a deep chuckle from behind, startled you. Every fiber in your being was begging you not to turn around. Your stomach clutching with a sense of fear and your mouth running dry.

“Little human.” His voice alone had you shaking but surprisingly it wasn’t all just fear, something else deep inside, something not so pure filled your body. Lust. You were still too afraid to look at him, your knees growing weak as he continued to speak.

“Too scared to turn around but all dolled up just for me. I can practically smell your sweet nectar from here.” He purred, his breath on your neck and you could feel the warmth of his body heat all over you. “I haven’t even touched you yet.” Taking his tongue, he licked up your ear before biting your lobe. “I could smell how sweet you are even before I got here. I couldn’t believe how delectable you smelled.” With hard hands, he softly grasped both of your breasts.

You released a small yelp with such surprise but your tummy fluttered. “Oh, my little human likes that…” He took note, pressed hot kisses against your neck. Squeezing your breast. With rough hands he stroked your nipples until they grew hard.

You were letting him have his way with you and you still hadn’t even seen his face. You moaned when you felt the soft drag of his claws, tugging at your gown.

“Tell me how badly you like my touch female…or I might just stop.” He pressed his hips into yours, allowing you to feel just how hard he was. “Don’t you want my cocks?” His voice was laced with something unfamiliar, he pressed his nose in your hair and did a quick inhale.

Desire pooled in your belly whenever he talked. “C-cocks?” You squealed. “I… I don’t think I can handle such a thing…” You muttered, trying to move away from him, keeping your eyes trained on your feet.

“Look at me.” He gripped your jaw in his fingers and forced your eyes to the mirror. Your pussy clenched against nothing when you saw his face. He was truly a beautiful demonic man. With sharp teeth and dark eyes that ate up your entire figure. There was colorful dark markings over his face and a sickening grin on his lips when he noticed you staring so hard. His spiked pink hair looked so soft that you wanted to pet him. “You desire is all in the air,” His told you. “Let me please you, my little human.”

“W-wait! I-um…” Your voice was hoarse and completely choked out as you stuttered, trying to find any excuse.

“You wish to deny me this?” He palmed your pussy. Dragging his hand all over the mound before trailing lower. “You are truly ravishing… in all these places.” You we’re panting and hanging on to every word he spoke, opening your thighs wider so he can feel you.

“Tell me…beg me…” His hand ran down lower, inching closer and closer towards your puffy clit.

Then he pulled away.

It was awful and your body felt cold, you even almost tripped over yourself, to which he chuckled. “Why did you st—”

Pressing his hot lips to yours he kissed you, squeezing your ass and adding his tongue. His tongue was sucking and sliding in every inch of your mouth, you could barely breathe. It felt so long and so deep, almost like he was in your throat. “I want you to beg me for my touch, I know you want it… so beg for it, or you won’t get it.” He said as he pulled away, drool on the corner of his mouth.

“Please…touch…me…” You forced the words he wanted to hear out. “I want your fingers, your tongue, your…cocks.” You whimpered a deep pout on your lips. He smiled at your honesty and he clipped your lingerie down with his claws in one swift motion.

His thumb caressed your folds softly and he groaned watching the wetness drip to the floor. Slipping one finger inside, you gasped, holding on to his wrist and grinding down a bit. Loud squelching noises filling the air every time he pushed in a bit deeper. “Tight little thing. All for me.” He dropped to his knees and licked his lips once he spread your folds open.

“Pretty little pearl.” He rasped before taking it in his mouth. Your hips buckled and thrashed against his face, your moans echoing and bouncing off the walls. He added another finger, hard. Slamming them both inside of you, stretching you wide. So much cream and slick ran down your thighs, he pumped faster inside of you.

Both of his cocks were leaking and aching but all he could think about was your pussy and just how good it taste. He groaned with his eyes closed, spreading his fingers inside as you sobbed above him.

“Please, please…” He didn’t know what you were begging for. He sucked, putting his entire mouth on you, licking up and down your sensitive clit. He pressed deep kisses before removing his fingers from your insides. He dipped his tongue deep inside of your tightness and he felt you tighten up, fisting your hand in his hair, rocking your hips.

“Sukuna!” Your eyes were filled with tears as he moaned for more of your virgin taste on his tongue. Hearing his name on your tongue had him throbbing but he resisted touching himself — wanting only to come in your tight pure virgin body.

“I’m going to— ah.” Your body snapped and shook but he continued to feast on your insides, his long tongue hitting all your sensitive spots and every muscle, you came around his tongue and he welcomed everything you gave him. Your walls fluttered against his tongue and your hands grabbed even deeper into his hair, toes curling and small sniffles filling the room.

He placed his tongue back to your sore clit and gave it a few more sucks before he smirked up at you, the pretty noises still in your throat as you tried your hardest to be quiet. Looking up at you with such desire that you felt yourself shrinking. “I was waiting so long for you…” He told you, standing to his full height. “Don’t know if I can let you go this time…”

You didn’t understand. You were still reeling down from such an orgasm. He inhaled against your neck. “Pretty little human. I’m not going to let you out of my sight. Too precious.” He took your lips again and you closed your eyes deeply, gripping his arm as you tasting yourself on his tongue.

When you finally pulled back and opened your eyes, you didn’t know where you were. All darkness surrounded you, dimly lit candles and a beautifully made canopy bed with dark sheets. You could see some sort of throne in the other part of this dark place, which took up almost the entirety of that space. The room seemed to go on forever, almost endless. You felt empty, he wasn’t there anymore. Confusion bled through your mind until you felt him take your hand, dragging you to the bed.

“What did you mean… with what you said moments ago?” You swallowed, trying not to look him in the eyes. But those deep red eyes made it almost too hard to do that. He stared you down before pushing you down to the bed.

“It means you’re mine. All mine.” His hot tongue trailed down your neck and it burned you, your weak legs thrusting against him. He lowered his hips flush against yours and you could feel just how big and thick his cocks were, it was almost disgusting how badly you wanted them. He sniffed and did a devilish grin at you. “Why fight it? You called me here. I have you. Don’t tell me you’re still scared… I won’t hurt you.” He promised.

The way his eyes held such sincerity you couldn’t look away. The flimsy material he wore, slipped off and you got a glimpse of everything he was hiding from you. The rippling abs and those dark marks similar to the ones on his face, you could feel yourself leaking when your eyes drifted to the pretty cocks he possessed.

Throbbing and veiny. Angry red tips coded in leaking creamy pre-cum. You didn’t mean to but you licked your lips and he groaned in your ear: “Female, it looks like you want to taste my cocks…” More pre-cum dripped down and you were panting at the sight, something coming over you. With a trembling hand, you reached out between you both and gripped the base of one, he twitched in your hand but you didn’t stop your assault.

He was thick. You couldn’t imagine doing this to both of his cocks at the same time, you needed both of your hands just to cover just one of them. He thrusted his hips upward, sliding himself through your hands with strained moments. He didn’t want to cum, only wanted it to be inside of you but fuck, this was heaven.

You stroked him, nice and slow. Feeling every bit of him and keeping your clouded eyes on his, both of your breathings harsh and in sync, hot and turned on. Rubbing your thumb on the tip, you watched as a bit more liquid leaked out, slipping between your hands.

“Knees. Now.” He rasped, he needed to be in your tight little mouth now. He needed it. You barley had time to move before he was thrusting himself inside of your mouth. “Fuck…ing, pretty little mouth.” He muttered, thrusting his hips harshly in and out of your mouth. His other cock begging for attention, you squeezed it hard and be released a beautiful moan continuing his rhythm.

Swallowing around him, he bellowed. “Fuck!” He had manners and didn’t want to mess up his female’s hair but he wanted you to take him deeper into your mouth. Pulling you slightly by your hair, he buried himself deeper into your mouth. Bucking his hips, you slid your mouth up and down — saliva covering his length — then you lapped at the tip, rubbing your mouth on it before slipping him back into your throat. Moaning around his cock, then you decided to switch to his other cock.

He was amazed and his toes were curling, watching you. He could see just how much of him was buried in your throat. He could hear the amount of sucking and slurping and you still had time to fondle his balls.

He was going to cum. He could feel it in the pits of his belly. Sweet moans leaving your mouth and he couldn’t take it anymore. With a deep groan, he pulled you flush to his hips and came deep inside of your mouth, his other cock jerking and spasming — raining cum on your face.

He looked at your cum splattered face and his cocks grew hard again and he knew the perfect way to end the night. “Need to be inside of you, now.” He didn’t want anything to stop him. He didn’t clean you off or anything, he wanted to fuck you as filthy and dirty as you looked.

And he would.

He pulled down your panties and looked at your leaking cunt. Smiling in delight, “All this just from sucking my cocks…naughty girl.” He lined up both of his cocks to your small hole.

“Both of them?!” You squealed with wide eyes. “They can’t both fit…” You swallowed hard and he did a roar of heavy laughter.

“Gonna just stretch you out with this one,” He rubbed his throbbing tip along your slippery glistening folds as you cried out. “Then once you’re all full, gonna add my other cock and make you cum all night, my little human.”

He lined himself back against your tight heat, almost slipping inside, he eyed your face before he thrusted forward and buried himself inside of your virgin flesh. Your nails were digging into him as you screamed, it hurt bad.

He was so massive inside of you and your walls wouldn’t let him go, clinging to him. “So damn tight.” He groaned, his hips snapped and with each thrust he was able to get deeper and deeper.

He couldn’t bare to look at you, hearing your small sniffles was hard enough. He wanted this pleasurable for you. His fingers were fast on their way to your little clit that was already throbbing for his attention, he pressed two of them against you and felt you roll your hips against his with a sharp moan, “Ah!”

He did a few sloppy thrust, his balls hitting the cusp of your ass and he could tell that you were feeling good based off how you were reacting. “Please make me cum.” You groaned, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. Now with a newer angle he pressed deep into a gooey wetness that had your tongue out and you squeezing his cock even better than before.

He slammed his cock inside of you, now going at any intense speed. Rocking his hips into yours, trying to hit your sweet spot again. He pressed deeper inside of you, bottoming out. “Say my name.” He told you, softly against your lips before claiming them. His thrust going hard and reckless, stretching you out.

You felt so full, he reached down and jerked his other cock. Squeezing the tip and continuing to thrust faster, rocking the bed. “Say my name.” He said again, his hips slamming down on yours. He felt heavy inside of you and you couldn’t focus on him, drowning in a warmth of endless pleasure.

He bucked his hips and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look up — to look into the mirror above you, watching yourself getting fucked before saying again: “Say my name.” This time annoyed and with a growl.

“Sukuna!” He pumped his cock inside of your little pussy, stretching it just for him and thrusting more — the hold your cunt had on his cock made him bite his lip when he withdrew himself slightly before slamming back inside.

Your eyes roll back when his tip hits your special spot again and your moans has him in a chokehold, “Sukuna, right there, please… again.” You arch your back and he grips your waist, pushing you back down into the mattress.

With a last long thrust, he fills your cervix with creamy cum that leaks out of you. His other cock bobbling before spraying you down as well, you clench around him for the final time and almost breathlessly you say his name again.

Body weak and your eyes fluttering. He pulls you closer to him and kisses your lips.

“My little human stuffed with my cum.” He purrs, wrapping a strong arm around you and you say something that he can’t hear as you drift and drift…

And drift to sleep.

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yuutx · 3 months

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ೀ ׅ ۫ . 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 ! (𝒲𝑅𝐼𝒪𝒯𝐻𝐸𝒮𝐿𝐸𝒴)

wriothesley x f!reader . 18+ content. ⟆ nsfw + unprotected sex/raw sex. praise kink. huge size kink. size difference. breeding kink. cervix fucking. love bites/hickeys. creampie. ⟆ mdom + fsub ⟆ not proofread ! ૮꒰˶ฅ́˘ฅ̀˶꒱ა

i had such bad writers block ,, so so glad its gone, i rlly wanted 2 finish this fic as it's been in my drafts for ages ! i was gonna post sumthing alhaitham related again but decided to just post this instead ! ♡ + ↻ are rlly appreciated ! !

He drank in the sight of you, his eyes raking over your body, memorizing the soft planes of your skin and the curves that molded to his hand perfectly. It was as if you were made for him, the way you fit so snugly against his broad form, the way your lips melded together, it was like you were fated to be together. He couldn't wait any longer, his hands moving down the swell of your hips to pull at your thighs, spreading them wide open, giving him a view of the treasure between your legs. A groan slipped past his lips, eyes glued to the way you dripped for him, a trail of slick connecting your folds to the wet spot on the bed. He had barely even touched you, and yet you were already soaked.

"You're so wet, baby. All for me, hm?" he cooed, rubbing his length along your cunt, smearing your juices along the girth. You could only moan, nodding in response, unable to speak with how worked up you were. The way he was looking at you was enough to drive you crazy, the lust and hunger swirling in his eyes. It was almost too much, your breath catching in your throat, your heart stuttering at the sheer amount of affection he had for you, the love he showed with his touch and his gaze. He was absolutely obsessed with you, and you loved him just as much.

He kissed along the column of your throat, leaving bruises and bites along the smooth skin, his hips pressing forward until he bottomed out. You fluttered around his cock, the stretch a delicious burn, a pleasant sting that made your stomach clench. You could feel him in your belly, his length nestled perfectly in the warmth of your gummy walls. A broken cry slipped past your lips, your arms winding around his shoulders, nails digging into his back. He gave you time to adjust, the both of you relishing in the feeling of him being so deep inside of you.

"You're doing so good, my love. Taking my cock like a good girl.." he breathed, his lips ghosting along the shell of your ear. You whined, a needy sound, and his hips snapped forward, burying himself to the hilt. You cried out, the sound quickly morphing into a moan as he began to fuck into you, the head of his cock bumping against your cervix with each thrust. You could feel every inch, the girth of his dick stretching your pussy to the limit. Your thighs tightened around his hips, urging him on, desperate for more. Each thrust made your mind spin, the feeling of him filling you up again and again sending your head into a frenzy.

You were practically drooling, eyes rolling to the back of your head as his lips found your throat, sucking at the delicate skin, surely leaving marks. They would bloom beautifully, the colors mixing and mingling with one another to create a masterpiece that only he could paint, a canvas for his affection and love. He worshipped you, his lips and teeth marking every part of your body that he could reach, leaving not an inch untouched. You could feel him in your very soul, the pleasure coursing through your veins. His voice was sweet like honey, praises and curses falling from his lips in a steady stream. How good you were, how tight, how pretty, how perfect. Each compliment was met with a sharp thrust, a well-timed drag of his cock hitting every spot within you that made your toes curl. The way you clenched around him, how your body trembled and shook with the force of his thrusts was a sight to behold.

Your face was twisted with the intensity of the sensations, eyebrows knitted together and jaw slack as he pounded into you, his thrusts growing more and more erratic with each passing moment. He could feel his orgasm fast approaching, the familiar heat in his belly, and the way you tightened around him only spurred him on. He couldn't wait to fill you, to spill his seed and watch as it dribbled out of you, leaking from your puffy, abused pussy. A low growl rumbled through his chest, his fingers digging into the soft skin of your hip. You could feel his hips stuttering, his length twitching and pulsing inside of you, the heat of his release painting your insides. The warmth spread through you, a fullness that you never wanted to lose. He ground his hips into you, ensuring every drop filled you to the brim as your own climax crashed over you, the stimulation bringing you over the edge.

Wriothesley pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, his tongue swiping along the plush skin, tasting the saltiness of your skin. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, murmuring praises against the heated skin. You could barely breathe, your chest rising and falling with the effort. Your entire body felt like jelly, the exhaustion of your climax hitting you full force. Still, the weight of his body was a comfort, his warmth a familiarity you couldn't bear to let go of. He rolled his hips once, twice, a third time before pulling out, a gush of his release following, spilling out of you. You were positively wrecked, the sight of his cum dripping down your thigh making his spent cock twitch with interest. Perhaps another round wouldn't hurt.

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togenabi · 6 months

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the promised knight

knight!roronoa zoro x princess!reader

♡— after a lifetime apart, zoro finds his way back to you

word count♡— 8.7k (screams into the void)

genre♡— royalty au, childhood friends to strangers to lovers, slow burn bc a lot of things happen, but there's fluff bc I need there to be

content notes♡— fem!reader wears dresses, mentions of death and grief, very plot heavy, kuina and mihawk are here, canon-typical violence, original side characters, no use of y/n, proofread(ish), inaccurate royalty things, inaccurate chemistry/poisons/acids, yes I got the name florentia from ill be the matriarch

also on♡— ao3

author's note♡— quick explanation!: a regent has no right to the throne, they're just someone stepping in temporarily while the next monarch is absent or unable to execute their powers. happy reading!!

Your happiest years were when everyone was together.

Those were the days you’d sneak out of your lessons to go play in the training grounds. You’d find your best friends arguing about something or other, fighting with wooden swords and chasing each other around.

Kuina and Zoro did their best to include you in whatever game they were playing. You found it all good fun, even if you were mostly being rescued or hidden away somewhere. The proud smiles on their faces when they saved you always made the wait for them worth it.

“Why do I have to play the bad guy?” A young Zoro whines, frowning deeply with shoulders slumped. His wooden sword hangs lazily in his hand, pointed to the ground.

Opposite him, Kuina’s blade was up, stable and correct with proper posture. “Because we agreed I would save the princess today!”

You remember sending Zoro a small smile, trying to reassure him, “You can save me next time, Zoro. I promise.”

Zoro complained, but gave his all acting as a bandit out to rob you. You and Kuina would run into the meadow—hands held in each other’s—squealing and laughing. You’d always end up collapsed together; among the grass and the flowers. They would cheer and scream into the sky, happy that the great knights protected their princess once again.

But that same meadow is now covered with a blanket of melancholy. The colors aren’t as vibrant as they were back then. Flowers no longer bloom like they did. The children’s laughter has been replaced by a deafening silence.

Everything changed when Kuina died.

She was hit by a stray arrow, they said. They called it a tragic accident.

More sadness only seemed to follow after she was gone. Zoro left without a word, abandoning his training, and you along with it. Your mother, Queen Florentia, passed due to an illness a few months after that. In a blink of an eye, you lost everything back then.

The large doors to your chambers slam shut, breaking you from your train of thought. The thud echoes into every corner before fading into noiselessness once more.

A maid rushes in, completely out of breath and practically stumbling towards you. “Your Highness!” She gasps. Waving a hand, you gesture for her to calm down.

“Selma,” You pour her some water in a glass. It’s strange to see your personal maid so distressed. “What did you find?”

Practically inhaling the water, she places a hand over her heart before explaining, “You were right, Your Ladyship. The commander informed me that several knights had poison hidden in their quarters.”

Her eyes trail to the glass she’s holding, then to the pitcher. Selma’s face becomes appalled as it sinks in that you had poured her a drink. You cut her off before she can make a fuss about it.

“Never mind all that.” There are more pressing matters than decorum right now. “What else did Mihawk say? Have the knights been apprehended?”

“No, my Lady.” Selma retrieves a transparent vial from her pocket. “The commander said there's a chance the poisons were planted. Trustworthy men could have been framed… He discourages you from trusting any of them at all.”

The vial is small, barely larger than your thumb. To an untrained eye, it looks like nothing is there. You hold it up to the window, letting the sun’s setting rays shine through the glass.

There it is. A near-invisible, lavender sheen in liquid. The queen regent’s signature poison.

“Damn it all.” You sigh, falling into an armchair.

It’s common knowledge that most of the people are loyal to Queen Regent Cassiopeia. Not to you, the rightful heir to the throne.

Ever since she took the position after your mother’s death, she’s been doing everything in her power to discredit you. Though she's not in the official line of succession, her goal is to become queen by any means necessary.

You’ve only been able to hold on for so long because there are still people loyal to your mother, like Commander Mihawk. However, it will take only one slip up for your standing to collapse. Cassiopeia knows this, and you suspect that she plans to completely ruin you at the upcoming knighting ceremony.

On a paneled wall in your room, encased in an ornate golden frame, hangs a portrait of Queen Florentia. The gold reminds you of the gilded dagger she gave you as a child.

Subconsciously, your hand moves to rest over your pocket; where the dagger is hidden under your skirt. What would your mother have done in this situation?

You scan the painting as if the image would respond. It doesn’t, but your eyes settle on the necklace she’s wearing. It was her most prized possession, and she had promised to give it to you when you were older, but it’s sadly lost to time.

The vial grows heavy in your fist. Your mother would stop at nothing until Cassiopeia is defeated, so that’s what you’ll set out to do.

“Selma, get me some ink and parchment.” You order, feeling more determined. “I have a plan.”

Dracule Mihawk burned the note as soon as he finished reading it. Your idea was brilliant, if only a little complicated to execute.

Cassiopeia will demand you choose a personal knight during the ceremony. Assuming all the knights are loyal to the queen regent, none of them would be a safe choice.

So, you asked Mihawk to hire a skilled fighter to pose as a knight. Someone whose loyalty cannot be bought. Immediately, he knew who to recruit. Though he warned you that you might not find the man… agreeable.

“I don’t care.” You replied stubbornly. “I can’t afford to be picky. Just make sure that he won’t kill me in my sleep.”

Mihawk muses that he might be killed by you in his sleep. Because in a shady, run-down tavern, he sits beside a familiar green-haired swordsman nursing a drink at the bar.

“Fancy seeing you here, commander.” Zoro spits out the title in disgust.

“It seems that some things never change.” Mihawk hums. “You’re still in the same place as you were when we last fought.”

“And your legend ends with you kissing up to that false queen.” Disappointment practically drips from his tone.

“And here you are,” There’s an amused glint in the knight commander’s eye. “...still not able to beat me, Roronoa Zoro.”

Zoro’s jaw clenches in frustration. He breathes out deeply, “What do you want, old man?”

“Join my knights.”

Scoffing, Zoro can’t believe his ears. Is this guy serious? “I’m no knight. Not anymore.”

“Are you sure about that?” Mihawk tests. “The princess needs someone not easily dissuaded.”

At the mention of you, Zoro freezes. He squints at the commander as it dawns on him, “You don’t serve that Cassiopeia bitch.”

“Obviously.”

“But why did you become commander only after Queen Florentia died?” Zoro asks. “Everyone thought you were bought off.”

“That’s besides the point.” Mihawk hisses. “I know you’ve been wanting to make it up to the princess. I’m giving you a chance to do that on a silver platter.”

Zoro stays quiet, eyes watching the alcohol ripple in his glass. He’s not drunk enough for this discussion. And he meant what he said, that he’s not a knight. That dream died with Kuina, and he chose to pursue less honorable ways to become stronger.

It’s funny how Mihawk, who was an outlaw, traded his jacket for a suit of armor. And now, he's trying to act righteous. But some things are just—

“It’s not too late to change things.” Mihawk attempts to persuade him, calmer this time. “Something tells me you’ll regret it if you don’t.”

Shaking his head, Zoro can’t believe this man is talking like he knows him. “What do you know about regret?”

When the commander doesn’t respond, Zoro turns to see Mihawk’s face, a grave expression marks his features.

“I know far too much, I’m afraid.”

Zoro studies him for a moment longer, curious as to what he meant—but he doesn’t dare ask. Only an idiot would test Dracule Mihawk.

This master swordsman, whom he’s looked up to for so many years, has changed drastically. Perhaps everyone has. It makes Zoro wonder how much you might’ve changed in the years he’s been gone.

You. He’s—there’s so much he wants to say. So much he wants to ask… but does he have the right to?

Who is he kidding? He doesn’t.

And yet, Zoro can’t help but wonder if he passes on this opportunity and regrets it, would he spend the rest of his life wishing he could make up for it?

After downing his drink, Zoro slams the glass on the bar counter.

“What do I need to do?”

Selma assists you with your hair and makeup on the day of the ceremony. She’s practically buzzing as she flutters around you. It’s nice that she’s still enthusiastic about things like these, even when dangers lurk in the shadows.

“You look stunning, Your Ladyship!” She gushes, adjusting the different layers of your dress so that it falls on you perfectly. “A vision, you are. Just like Queen Florentia.”

“Thank you.” You respond gratefully, despite not feeling as sure and confident as your mother was. Would that change, if you were to become queen?

A knock sounds on your door. Selma rushes to answer it, and lets Mihawk into your chambers. He steps in, but remains by the entryway.

“You look lovely, princess.” The commander bows to you in greeting. “I was instructed to escort you once you’re ready.”

Nodding, you approach him and hold onto his arm. “Let us be on our way.”

Keeping your face carefully neutral, you whisper to Mihawk under your breath, “Will you really not let me know the knight’s name? How am I supposed to know who to appoint?”

“You’ll know.” Mihawk pats your hand reassuringly. “Without a doubt, you’ll know. I just hope you’re not too hard on him.”

You side-eye him. “He’s not a convict or something, is he?”

Mihawk presses his mouth shut. This bastard, is he trying not to laugh? “You might actually prefer a convict over him.”

That pulls a frown out of you that you cannot contain. What on earth is that supposed to mean? Is the man that bad? How are you supposed to mentally prepare with such vague warnings?

All thoughts of the mystery knight fade into the back of your mind, however, when you and Mihawk make your entrance at the throne room.

The extravagant hall is decorated to the nines. Flags of different family crests hang from the ceiling. Flowers bloom at every window sill. You smile at it all, at your people—but it fails to reach your eyes. It’s difficult to truly smile when Cassiopeia stands dangerously close to your mother’s throne.

You curtsy when you reach the steps, one hand still on Mihawk’s arm as the fabric of your skirt dips onto the floor. You hear murmurs of approval from the ministers in the front row, pleased to see the good relationship between the princess and queen regent.

But they don’t see through your gloves, how your grip on your skirt is tense and far too tight. They don’t see how Cassiopeia’s smile is truly a smirk when you lower your head to her.

“Lovely to have you here, darling.” She says, and you fight the urge to laugh. ‘Lovely’ would be if she accepted her place and let go of her greed.

Mihawk guides you to the smaller throne on the left. This has been your seat since you were born. If Cassiopeia had her way, it would be your seat until the end of your days.

She glides to the center of the dais, the train of her excessive dress flows like a river after her. She stands; graceful, powerful and smiling—but she will never be happy until she can sit on the throne and wear your mother’s crown.

Whatever it takes, you will find a way to stop her.

“Welcome to the long-awaited knighting ceremony.” Cassiopeia addresses the audience. “It is an honor to have the kingdom’s finest pledge to serve and protect us.”

The ceremony proceeds to speeches from several dignitaries. Mihawk delivers a short yet intense declamation about the knightage being the greatest honor; and hands the queen regent an elaborate, bejeweled sword.

“These warriors before us today are hereby called forward to receive Knighthood. The kingdom will forever be grateful for your service.” Cassiopeia proclaims.

Attentively observing the knights lined up, you keep an eye out for the one Mihawk recruited for you. One at a time, Cassiopeia announces their name before tapping their shoulders with the ornamental blade.

You grow restless as the line dwindles. Frustrated, you throw questioning looks at the commander’s direction. He skillfully avoids your gaze. The nerve.

When only about five men are left, you begin to study them all and weigh your options. Perhaps you should pick someone with a smaller build, so that you can have a better chance of escaping? You also spotted someone who appeared clumsy. If you were to outsmart him, your odds of surviving weren’t so bleak.

But then—dramatically, as if in slow motion—the great doors to the throne room opened with a loud, booming sound. Everyone turned as light poured into the hall.

A swordsman makes his entrance. His armor is unassuming, but the three blades at his side demand attention. He wears a helmet over his head, but even after so much time, you’d know those eyes anywhere.

Mihawk was right. You would have preferred a convict—or maybe some rogue, or a thief who would rob you blind. You would have preferred anyone over Roronoa Zoro.

You thought you’d never see him again, but he’s here, marching towards the end of the line. You gape at him, feeling too many emotions all at once. Why is he here? Why now?

Mihawk intercepts Cassiopeia before she can question Zoro’s identity. “Forgive me, queen regent. This young man ran late due to an errand I sent him out on.”

How brilliant of him. Cassiopeia hates unexpected interruptions, but would never express her frustrations openly with so many people watching.

It’s amusing to see her grin and bear it. “That’s… quite alright, commander. I’m glad he made it before the end of the ceremony.”

When only Zoro remains to be appointed, you stand and call for the queen regent’s attention.

“Should he accept, this man shall be my personal knight.” You declare as Zoro’s gaze meets yours.

“What of your decision, knight?” Cassiopeia asks. Zoro nods, and the queen regent’s gaze sharpens. She understands that something is amiss, but passes the decorated blade to you without a word.

Back when you were children, you used to dream of this moment together. Kuina and Zoro would kneel before you on the grass beneath a shining sun, pledging their unwavering loyalty as you tap their shoulders with a stick.

You’re no longer children, but as Zoro kneels before you now, you still feel like a child all the same. Your clothes feel too big. The throne room is too vast; the ceiling too high. The sword is too heavy in your hands as you raise it.

“Roronoa Zoro. I hereby dub thee into the honorable order of knights as my chosen protector.” The blade lands on his shoulder—his right first, then the other. You pray to the stars that no one notices your hold quivering.

“Arise, Sir Zoro, and be recognized.”

You’re no longer children, but you’re still here. Playing a different sort of game.

Mihawk, the wise man that he is, makes himself scarce after the ceremony. You’re left to awkwardly journey back to your chambers with Zoro in tow. He doesn’t speak a word the entire time, but you can feel his eyes burning a hole through the back of your head.

Selma is there when you get back, your usual afternoon refreshments prepared. She approaches you, but stops short when she sees Zoro.

“Leave us.” You tell her. She obeys, albeit reluctantly—looking back over her shoulder more than once as she exits.

After the door closes shut, the outside world feels a million miles away; making the air feel tense. You hastily take off your gloves, the fabric suddenly feels constricting against your skin. Every fiber of your being wants to scream at him.

Roronoa Zoro. Your best friend who had left all those years ago. You don’t even know where to start.

Maybe throwing something at him will make you feel better.

You throw one of your gloves. The fabric hits his chest before falling pathetically.

“Seriously?” Zoro frowns at you, unimpressed. You throw the other one. It meets the same fate.

Grumbling under his breath, Zoro takes off his helmet. It vexes you how you subconsciously hold your breath until you see his face.

You huff skeptically, “Why are you here?”

“Mihawk said you needed help.” He answers with a shrug, causing his armor clink.

After a breath, he speaks cautiously, “I didn’t know things had gotten this bad.”

“How could you have known?” You bite back, “You left, Zoro.”

In a sense, you understand why Mihawk chose him. You asked for someone who wouldn’t kill you in your sleep, and Zoro—at least, the one you knew—definitely wouldn’t.

Some (rational) part of your brain is telling you to keep quiet and accept his help. With Cassiopeia planning a mutiny, time is something you don’t have a lot of.

But your heart still feels angry and hurt when you see his—stupidly handsome—face. The years just had to treat him well, didn’t they?

“I’m thankful for your help,” You admit disgruntledly. “But I’m not happy about it.”

Zoro calls your name. It makes your heart ache a bit, but you hold a hand up to silence him.

“Please, just—I need time to process this, Zoro.” Turning away from the knight, your eyes find the window. The sunset paints the meadow in deep oranges and blues. It doesn’t make you feel any better.

“...We’ll talk tomorrow.” You promise, your tiredness evident from your tone.

Zoro lingers, hesitating. But he doesn’t push you. You hear his armor shift as he bows before he leaves.

That night, Zoro stands guard outside your door. It’s good that no one else is around, it allows him to think in peace. About you.

The last time Zoro saw you, you were a small thing, getting dirt on the edge of your skirt. When he saw you today, sullying even the path you walked on felt like a crime.

He knew you would be mad. He had prepared himself to be yelled at. Maybe he thought you would cry. How much you went through didn’t really sink in until he saw how exhausted you were.

All the things he wanted to say, every apology and excuse, fade into nothing. The first thing he wants to tell you is how thankful he is that you’re still alive. It doesn’t matter that you stay mad at him forever, he’ll protect you for just as long.

Footsteps sound through the dim hallway. Zoro rests a hand on his blades, ready to fight back anyone who poses a threat. A knight he’s not acquainted with approaches, his steps staggering just a bit. The man carries a bottle of alcohol.

“Hey! New guy!” The stranger bellows. “This ’ere is a little something we prepared for ya, since yous didn’t eat dinner with us.” Zoro makes a mental note that they’ve been watching him.

“Take it, take it.” The knight tries to shove the bottle into Zoro’s hands. At the last second, Zoro spots a knife the man hides behind his back.

Quick on his feet, Zoro jabs the man’s neck, causing him to stumble. The knight charges at him, but Zoro effortlessly dodges. Grabbing the knight’s shoulder, Zoro slams his head onto the stone wall.

The bottle clatters to the floor as his opponent collapses, looking up at him in fear. Picking up the glass, Zoro sniffs at its contents. It’s laced with some sort of sedative.

Zoro pries the knight’s jaw open before pouring the drugged beverage into his mouth. The amber liquid spills. The man coughs, gurgling and struggling in vain until he slumps onto the ground.

Observing the bottle inquisitively, Zoro shakes his head before dropping it again. What kind of amateurish attempt was this? Is the queen regent testing his skills?

If anything, all this managed to do was—Zoro starts, turning to your door in alarm—…divert his attention.

Not a second later, he kicks down your door. The elaborately carved wood falls from its hinges, dust clouds billow once it crashes on the previously spotless tiles of your room.

You’re fighting off three large strangers clad in black, a dagger in your hand. Zoro tries not to think about how your eyes softened in relief when they landed on him as he cuts down one of the intruders. Maybe you still care for him a little.

“Took you long enough!” Or not.

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” He grunts back, slashing his sword at someone charging towards you. Zoro only realizes the deeper meaning to his words when you make a face.

“Don’t make being late a habit, Zoro!” Stabbing an intruder’s side, you quip at him, “You and your dramatic entrances, I swear.”

Zoro bites back a grin. He missed you more than you’ll ever know.

After taking down one of the intruders, you hide in your wardrobe as Zoro deals with the rest.

It would be smart to lock the door. Barricade it, so that no one can get to you on the off chance Zoro is defeated. But you don’t. You keep the door ajar to watch everything unfold. The way he fights is a captivating sight.

Look at him. Your knight in lackluster armor. Protecting you like how you always talked about as kids. He’s wielding two blades, one for each perpetrator still standing. You blink in surprise when you make out the third, sheathed blade. Kuina’s.

The more you examine him, the more you see how different he seems. He carries himself more confidently, unlike that boy who whined about roles, responsibilities and challenges.

You also see how gruff he’s become. He’s grown stronger, for sure, but you get the sense that he’s closed himself off from the world. Perhaps the years weren’t as kind to him as you'd thought.

The last intruder lets out a pitiful cry as Zoro knocks him unconscious.

“I’ll tie them up and let Mihawk deal with them in the morning.” Zoro says, pausing to breathe for a moment before dragging the men out by their feet.

Emerging from your wardrobe, you become dismayed at the sight of your room in such a state. “Did you really have to kick down the door?” You groan.

Surprisingly, Zoro blanks, appearing sheepish. “...I didn’t know it would break like that. I just—you should get a damn better door.” He mumbles, heaving the doors up and resting them against the wall outside.

When he comes back from restraining the intruders, he stands before you awkwardly—like he doesn’t know what to do when he’s not fighting or cleaning up bodies.

No one says anything. You both just take each other in, not completely recognizing the person that looks back.

You don’t feel so angry at him anymore. When all’s said and done, everyone has different ways of dealing with grief. Your heart only grows conflicted, wishing you had been there for each other instead of being apart. Goodness knows you could have used someone by your side. You’re sure he did as well.

“I—” Zoro falters. “...I’m glad you’re okay.”

‘Okay’ isn’t how you would describe your current state, but you nod anyway.

“You too, Zoro.”

In a secluded alcove in the royal gardens the following afternoon, you invite Mihawk for tea on the pretense of thanking him for your newly sworn knight. The story that spread was that you would have been done for were it not for Zoro. You don’t want to think about how true that might be.

“The queen regent is furious you were able to secure a knight loyal to you.” Mihawk informs you as he helps himself to some pastries. “We should avoid meeting for a while, lest she suspect anything of me.”

“Alright.” You agree. “Selma also informed me that we can gather statements from mistreated staff.” You show Mihawk a list of names. “If enough of them support us, and if we can prove Cassiopeia orchestrated what happened last night… We can take her down.”

“She will be busy attending a gala this evening. I’ll make sure no one is near her office while she’s gone.” Mihawk turns to Zoro, who is standing guard behind you, sending him a fearsome look. “Those men got a tad too close last night—”

“Mihawk.” You warn him to drop it. He doesn’t.

“Ensure that it doesn’t happen again, young man.”

“It won’t.” Zoro replies icily. The commander only huffs in response.

‘It won't happen.’, he said. But trouble finds you when Zoro steps on a tripwire in Cassiopeia's office. Arrows soar, launching from scattered, hidden contraptions. Zoro shoves you into a bookshelf, covering your frame with his.

“So much for her not finding out we were here.” You remark sarcastically, waiting for him to step back.

But then, as they cage your head, Zoro’s arms tense up. His expression contorts in discomfort.

“...Zoro?” Raising your hands, you cradle the sides of his face.

“Damn arrows,” He growls. “I think they’re poisoned.”

“What?!” You gasp, ducking under his arm to check his back. You find a wound where an arrow grazed his skin. “Of course you get injured when you don’t wear your armor.”

“Why don’t you try sneaking around in that thing, then?” Zoro argues, but you’re startled when the wound begins to bleed.

“We need to get you treated.” Panicking, you grab his arm and pull him along. He doesn’t budge. “Zoro, we should go.”

“No.” He refuses, hissing in pain all the while. “That bitch won’t let us find a way in here again. Let’s just be quick.”

“...Fine.” You cave, still worried, hating that he’s right. “At least stay still, search the desk. I’ll handle everything else.”

Zoro relents, opening every drawer and scanning every document in them. You turn your attention to the shelves, trying to find hidden compartments or anything that looks remotely suspicious.

It's not long before a loud crash makes you wince. Zoro found something.

A panel beneath the desk detaches, revealing an ornate box. Studying it, you hum, “It looks like we’ll need a key.” Zoro unsheathes one of his blades, cutting through the lock until it cracks open.

You shake your head. “Or we could do that, sure.”

However, instead of the nefarious plans or blueprints you were hoping for, you find old papers. All of them yellowing with age.

“It’s your handwriting.” Zoro points out, picking up the first document.

“What?” You lean in, reading the file over his shoulder. It’s a letter written to acknowledge a transfer of money. But the amount is astronomical, and you don’t remember signing anything of the sort.

“Look at the date.” Pointing to the corner, it reads more than ten years ago. And then it clicks, “My mother wrote this.”

“There’s more than one.” Zoro sifts through the papers, counting over ten.

“All of them are addressed to… Shimotsuki Koushirou?” He reads the name slowly. You look at each other, confused. Why would Queen Florentia be sending payments to Kuina’s father?

A tall longcase clock chimes to signal the hour. If you clean up now and review the evidence later, you can make it look like you were never here. You instruct Zoro to pack up the box.

“We should head out soon.” You say, moving to pick up the arrows scattered on the floor.

“Be careful.” Zoro reminds you.

“I am.” You show him that you’re holding the arrows by their tail ends. “You can go ahead, if you want. Get that wound treated.”

“Do you really think I would leave you?” You can’t help the incredulous look you send his way.

“...Forget I said anything.”

Back in your chambers, you twirl an arrow you decided to keep as evidence while examining the documents sprawled out on your carpet.

Zoro grabs it from your hand. “I thought I told you to be careful with that.”

You think aloud as he sets the arrow to the side, “I just can’t figure out why my mother gave Koushirou so much money.”

“Maybe she felt bad about the accident.” Your swordsman suggests. “We all did.”

“But why did she have to keep it quiet…” Mumbling in thought, you read the last receipt Queen Florentia signed. It had been penned the week of her death.

The sky grows darker, and it becomes more difficult to see. Zoro strikes a match to light a few candles, bathing the room in a subtle, warm light.

Beneath the dim, flickering flames, the sharp arrow on your tea table glints ominously.

It took you a long while to get over spacing out whenever you saw an arrow. It was one of the things that affected you after Kuina’s passing.

Sometimes, you think of how much better everything would be if she was still here. If it weren’t for that—

…accident?

“Zoro?” Your voice is unsteady, “...What do you remember about Kuina’s death?”

“It was some new guy at the training grounds.” He answers, frowning as he recalls what happened. “He misfired, and his knighthood got revoked after that.”

“But,” Memories come flooding back as you try to piece things together. “If the archers were practicing that day, what was Kuina doing in the grounds?”

“Kuina wasn’t in the grounds.” Zoro corrects you. “She was in that meadow we always went to.”

He points to the view outside, raising a finger to trace the horizon. “The arrow flew through the fence, but it was really dangerous, even—”

Zoro turns back to you with wide eyes. “Even the queen was almost hit! Holy shit, she was there to observe that day.”

You blink at him in disbelief, “My mother was the real target.”

“And she didn’t want the culprit to know she realized, which is why she kept quiet about the money.”

You collapse into a chair as you run your hands over your head. “Did anyone ever check the arrow for poison?”

“No.” Zoro’s face crumples. “She was hit straight in the heart... She wouldn’t have made it even if it wasn’t poisoned.”

“Oh, Kuina…” You choke back a sob, covering your face with both hands. “I’m so sorry it took us this long.”

“Wait.” Zoro calls out your name, taking your hand and kneeling in front of you. The strength of his grip hurts, but you don’t mind it. You need to feel that he’s with you right now; especially when his next question makes your heart fall through the floor.

“How did your mother die?”

“She—she got sick. A lot of our people got sick that year.” You answer shakily, not liking where this is going. “Do you think…”

“Queen Florentia could have been poisoned.” Zoro whispers. “And I bet that fake bitch was responsible for it. For Kuina’s death too.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” You counter, “Cassiopeia deals with poisons, sure, but she wasn’t even in the kingdom yet then.”

“...Someone must have betrayed your mother so Cassiopeia could be queen regent.” He suggests, rubbing circles into your palm. “Because isn’t it convenient, how she was there to bring the people together after Her Majesty died?”

It’s confusing how the world seems to have slowed down, and yet your mind is spinning so quickly, you can’t process anything. You squeeze Zoro’s hand to anchor you, but you shatter all the same.

“I hate everything.” You cry, tears streaming down your face. “I hate how I didn’t know—but we were kids! How were we supposed to know? And, I hate feeling so powerless. What—how, are we going to fix this?”

“We’ll find a way, I promise.” Zoro moves to embrace your form, but you glare at him.

“You. I hate you too.” You push him away weakly, but he doesn’t let you go. “I—I hate that you left, Zoro… You have no idea how lost I was.”

His eyes glisten with tears. “I was lost without you too.”

Zoro feels you melt into his arms. Your strength just vanishes, and you slump forward until your forehead touches his.

“...Don’t leave me then.” You whisper. You beg.

He holds your cheek, wiping your tears with his thumb. “Never.”

The last thing you remember before falling asleep is Zoro pressing the softest kiss to your temple as he tucks you in bed.

Selma barges in the next morning, slamming the (newly repaired) doors open. As you rub the sleep from your eyes, you’re starting to feel sad for the abuse your doors have been going through lately.

“Princess! Your Ladyship! Your Highness—” She stops abruptly, covering her mouth, looking scandalized. What is she so flabbergasted by—

Only then do you see Zoro sleeping on the floor beside you. He’s leaning on the bed, using his forearms as a pillow. One of his hands is intertwined tightly with yours.

“Your Highness!” Selma gasps playfully, gesturing to your mother’s portrait. “Right in front of Her Majesty!”

“Selma,” You sit up, letting go of Zoro’s hand. “Did you have anything important to report?”

“Ah!” She exclaims, face becoming worried once more, “The commander has been imprisoned!”

You curse, shaking Zoro’s shoulder to wake him. “Couldn’t you have told me that first?”

“Forgive me, princess. It’s not everyday I see you holding hands with a man. May I ask who confessed first, Your Highness?”

“Oh my god, Selma.” You groan. “Just go prepare my clothes.”

“Shall I dress you, or will Sir Zoro—”

“Selma!”

If Zoro heard any of Selma’s ramblings, he’s excellent at hiding it. You both get ready in record time. After which, he leads the way to the dungeons; careful to make sure you don’t run into anyone.

“We can sneak him out through that secret passage we used to play in.” You whisper, your knight nods.

“When we get to him, break the lock with your dagger. I’ll stand guard in case someone comes over.”

But someone already beat you to Mihawk’s cell. Zoro pulls you into a shadowed corner to hide.

The queen regent paces in front of the bars, her extravagant dress and cape out of place in this gloomy dungeon.

Mihawk is on the ground, his wrists chained with heavy shackles. Yoru is noticeably missing from his back. Seeing him like this is heartbreaking.

“I should have known you’d help that wench.” Cassiopeia sneers. “You’ll regret not siding with me soon enough, Dracule.”

“Now that you’ve found me out, I can finally ask you to stop calling me that.” Mihawk yawns. “My name always sounded revolting in your voice.” Crazy bastard, will it kill him to try to stay alive?

“But Florentia called you that, didn’t she?”

Zoro squints at how something about Mihawk changes at the mention of your mother. It’s almost imperceptible, but the air shifts dangerously. The queen regent should watch her mouth.

“Her name sounds revolting in your voice too.”

Cassiopeia scoffs. “You’re just like her. Thinking you’re better than everyone else.”

“Aren’t you talking about yourself?” Mihawk leans back, crossing his legs. “That’s not a good habit, Cassie.”

The queen regent kicks the cell. Mihawk doesn't flinch as she snarls, “I’ll deal with the princess and that knight... I’ll make you watch as the light fades from their eyes.” Gathering her skirt, her heels clack loudly as she stomps away.

As soon as she’s out of earshot, you and Zoro run to the commander.

“Mihawk!” You call out as you stab the lock with your dagger. It crumbles to the ground after a few strikes. “What happened? What did she charge you with?”

“Treason, apparently.” He shrugs, the chains holding him rattling together.

Mihawk goes on as you break his shackles, “This kingdom should be grateful we’re trying at all. We could easily leave them to their own devices—” You frown at him.

“...But of course, we won’t do that.”

Sneaking into the library, you regroup with Selma; who passes on vital information.

“The queen regent has the palace on lockdown. Everyone has orders to take you in.” She tells you. “But I’ve rallied the staff. We're going to plead your case to the ministers, Your Highness.”

“Thank you. Do you have my mother's letters?” She nods. “Good. Use them well. I'll make sure your efforts will not go to waste.” You say, giving her hands a firm squeeze.

“Where’s that fake queen now?” Zoro looks eager for a fight.

“One of the butlers said that the queen regent disappears sometimes, and no one knows where she goes.” Selma explains, passing you a note from her source. “There are rumors that she smells like grass when she returns.”

Mihawk lets out a disbelieving laugh, “She must be at the secret garden.”

“The what?” You ask. That sounds exactly like something you would have loved as a child, but why haven’t you heard of it before?

“It’s a place reserved for queens. Only crowned monarchs should be allowed in there, or even know where it is.” He says. “That woman truly doesn’t know her place.”

“Why do you know about it?” Zoro asks.

After a pause, the older swordsman deflects, “I’ve been called a queen once.”

“Mihawk,” You urge him to be serious. “Can you take us there?”

Before he responds, Mihawk looks at you with something you can’t fully discern, as if he’s recalling an old memory.

“Of course. It’s your birthright, after all.”

The entrance to the secret garden is hidden in a passageway beneath the greenhouse. You imagine your mother walking along this path, to a sanctuary she could truly call her own.

But the vision darkens when you think of how Cassiopeia has been using the space all this time. You hope you're still able to recognize traces of your mother when you get there.

An iron gate stands at the end of the path. Vines tangle through the metal spirals and flowers. Mihawk holds a finger to his lips, carefully opening the gates without a sound except for the rustling of leaves. You all crouch behind a large plant that fans out, over your heads.

And then, you see it. You see what your mother left for you.

The centerpiece of the garden is an intricate pedestal, Yoru is propped up against it. On top of it, however, is a glass case displaying your mother’s most treasured golden necklace.

You almost want to run to it, but Zoro grabs your arm, warning you not to take another step. He nods towards where Cassiopeia stands in front of oddly shaped vials and strange devices containing diff chemicals. She douses a sword with an eerie purple liquid as she speaks.

“Three against one... That hardly seems fair.” She kisses her teeth. Looking over her shoulder, she glares. “Why don’t we fight on even ground?”

Out of nowhere, a large cage falls towards the three of you. Mihawk pushes you and Zoro out of the way, but isn’t able to avoid the cage himself.

“And I just escaped. What a shame.” Mihawk fusses, but you can see that he’s relieved you’re alright.

“Maybe you’re meant to be in a cell, Dracule.” Cassiopeia remarks. “I’ll have your kids join you shortly.”

There’s only one of her, this should be easy, right?

She throws a bottle at you. Luckily, you’re able to dodge it. The bottle shatters, its contents spilling over the bystanding greenery. The liquid turns out to be acid, burning through the foliage and leaving a smoky trail.

Well, fuck.

Zoro also seems to realize how serious this fight is. For the first time since you’ve reunited, he unsheathes Kuina’s sword, placing the hilt in his mouth.

You brandish your dagger as you yell, “Really? You bite it? What would Kuina say?” He sends you a look. You try not to laugh.

And in the next second, you charge at Cassiopeia together.

It’s difficult to get close enough to land a hit. The queen regent leads you in a dance of acids and poisons. You dodge one bottle only to be met with the toxic end of her blade. It seems that your mother’s dagger won’t be enough in this fight.

“I didn't get this far to be stopped by the likes of you!” Shrieking, she lunges at you.

“You will never be queen!” You roar back.

Behind her, your eyes spot Yoru leaning on the pedestal. The blade is large and intimidating, and you’re not entirely sure if you can wield it correctly… But you might not have a choice right now.

As you were distracted, Cassiopeia’s sword almost cuts through your side. Panicking, you stumble backwards. Zoro slashes at your enemy’s wrist. Her hold on the poisoned weapon falters. It plummets with a clang.

While she’s occupied with Zoro, you rush towards Yoru. From behind the bars, Mihawk watches, holding his breath as you wrap both hands around Yoru’s hilt—but the damn thing is too heavy.

“Dear princess, you should have learned from your mother!” Cassiopeia smashes a bottle on Zoro’s head. “Stop sticking your nose where it doesn't belong!”

The glass explodes into countless glittering shards. A red gas escapes into the air, and your knight inhales far too much of it.

He falls, and for that moment, the entire rest of the world vanishes until all you see is him. Your ears start to ring. His grip loosens on his swords.

No. Please. Not him. Not anyone else. No more.

Mihawk calls your name. You turn to him, on the verge of breaking down. But then, he nods once, slowly. The action reminds you to breathe—filling you with an overwhelming sense of strength. You can do this.

Screaming, you attempt to brandish Yoru again.

You swing the legendary greatsword in a perfect arc. Once it collides with the ground, the air ripples. Power surges through an invisible force headed straight for the queen regent. She tries to run, but the hit lands.

Her eyes don’t stray from yours as she collapses. In her final moments, she falls from grace, howling in agony and rage.

As a last ditch attempt, she throws one last vial of acid at Zoro. You’re about to curse the world all over again as you run to stop it.

Mihawk throws a tiny sword like a dart, miraculously breaking the container before it lands on your knight. Your knees give out, and you pull Zoro into your arms as you gasp for air.

It’s done.

Zoro wakes up to the feeling of you checking his temperature. Your hand is warm against his forehead, making him want to reach up and hold it. He should probably wake up and check on you now.

“Oh.” He hears Mihawk speak, “I didn’t realize your relationship took a certain… turn.”

On second thought, another minute of sleep won’t hurt.

“Not you too, Mihawk.” You groan. “I get enough of that from Selma.”

“Ah, yes. I heard.” The swordsman deadpans, “Hand holding. How scandalous.”

“Alright, if you’re not going to be of any help whatsoever, please just go.”

“If you wanted time alone with him, you could have just said so.”

“Goodbye, Mihawk.”

Zoro hears you escort Mihawk out, and he takes the moment alone to open his eyes. He’s in his quarters, which is a few doors down from yours so that he can easily get to you.

Not that he stays here often, Zoro prefers standing guard outside your chambers. It’s strange how he lasted years without seeing you, because now that you’re back in each other’s lives, he becomes restless whenever you’re not around.

Like right now. What’s taking you so long?

The door opens. Zoro perks up, but deflates when he sees that it’s Selma bringing in a pitcher of water.

“You could’ve at least hidden your disappointment better, Sir Zoro.” She huffs at him, taking full offense. “I’ll go get your princess.”

“Oh!” She yelps excitedly, “My bad, it’s queen anointed now, isn’t it?”

Zoro smiles, his voice raspy with sleep, “That has a nice ring to it.”

“Indeed, it does.” Selma nods, bidding him farewell.

He doesn’t have to wait long to hear your rushing footsteps. The door opens again to reveal you, this time. Your eyes shine in that really pretty way they do when you’re happy. He’s glad that’s among the things that didn’t change.

Zoro opens his arms, inviting you, “Come here.”

Not needing to be told twice, you fall into his arms, burying your face in his chest.

“You’re okay.” You murmur.

“I wasn’t about to miss your coronation, Your Majesty.” Zoro pokes your nose. He did that a lot when you were kids, you forgot how much you liked it.

“Thank you for being okay.” Leaning down, you kiss his cheek softly.

Zoro brushes his fingers through your hair. He holds your face in his hands, tracing your features as if that will help him memorize the happiness he feels in his heart. The sort of happiness he thought was lost to him forever.

“Hey,” Zoro speaks your name with care. “I love you a lot, you know.”

He always envisioned confessing to you in some dramatic, elaborate way that you’d deserve. There could have been a beautiful sunset. He would’ve brought flowers.

But he was wrong. All he needs are the words themselves, and you—smiling the way you’re smiling at him now.

You laugh, “I might love you more, I think.”

Zoro shakes his head, sitting up so that he can bring his face to yours properly. “Doubt it.”

The kiss tastes like magic, like you were always meant to find each other's lips. His heart starts doing something funny, and he has to pull you closer—hold you tighter. You respond eagerly, kissing him back so intoxicatingly that he’ll remember the softness of your lips for as long as he lives.

Later that week, your coronation is a grand and extravagant affair.

When Cassiopeia's misdeeds came to light, the people banded together to celebrate her downfall. Those loyal to her either surrendered or tried to escape. Although none of them were able to get away, since Zoro and Mihawk were ruthless towards those involved in the attempted mutiny.

The crown on your head will take some to get used to. It still feels like you're borrowing something of your mother's; but instead of shying away from it like you had before, you step into it openly. You're ready to become a successor worthy to carry on her legacy of kindness and strength.

Uncharted these waters may be, at least you have Zoro now, who would dive into any perilous sea right after you.

Escaping the celebratory banquet and the revelries, you visit Queen Florentia and Kuina's graves with Zoro. It's only right that you pay respects together.

You leave flowers on your mother's headstone, thanking her for everything she did. You're startled when Zoro takes one of his swords, holding it in front of him as he kneels in front of the previous queen.

“Your Majesty, Queen Florentia,” He speaks, his tone steady and sure. “I, Roronoa Zoro, vow to never leave your daughter’s side. I will protect her until I draw my last breath. I swear to cherish her, and to love her even in my next life.”

What is he doing, making you cry like this? It turns out that emotional boy you knew is still somewhere in there. Your heart feels full, knowing your mother would have appreciated the gesture.

As you're about to move on to Kuina's grave, Zoro motions for you to go ahead without him. You look at him strangely, but do as he says to give him some space.

Mihawk emerges from the treeline when you've gone far enough.

“You look like you’re about to leave without saying goodbye.” Zoro remarks.

“Of course you’d know how that works, hm?” Mihawk challenges, raising a sharp brow. “Try even thinking about leaving and I’ll return to make sure it’s your last thought."

“Didn't you just hear the oath I made to the love of your life?” Zoro turns to Florentia's tombstone again. “Your Majesty, back me up here.”

“She would have approved of you.” Mihawk’s frown is unimpressed, but his gaze is unmistakably caring.

“...Take care of her, Zoro.”

“Of course. I promise.”

As Mihawk walks away, Zoro asks him one last question, “How are your regrets now, old man?”

The former commander’s shoulders shake in a mixture of amusement and relief. “I suspect they'll heal, with time.”

When Zoro catches up to you at Kuina's grave, you're grinning at him. He can picture that same grin on Kuina's face if she were here.

“We were just talking about you.” You jest, “All bad things, too.”

“You had nothing to talk about, then.” Zoro sits on the grass beside you. “I’m perfect for you.”

Appalled, you scoff and turn to Kuina's headstone. “Can you believe this guy?”

That day, you talked for hours, even after the sun had set. And on the trek back to the palace, a soft breeze caressed your skin. It felt like Kuina encouraging you, sending you off onto the next chapter of your lives.

Zoro becomes Captain of the Royal Guard once Mihawk leaves. He's teaching you about weapons and self defense when he picks up your dagger to inspect it, turning it this way and that curiously.

“Is there something wrong with it?” You ask, observing it too.

“This pattern and material.” Zoro says, tracing a certain swirl on the weapon. “I feel like I've seen it before.”

“Ah,” He says in realization, tracing a finger down your neck and making you shiver. “It’s the pattern on your necklace.”

“My mother must have had them made together.” You say, unclasping the chain before handing it to him.

There's a gap in the center of the pendant. Thin and barely noticeable, but it looks like it can be opened by something sharp.

“Do you mind if I,” Zoro gestures at the dagger.

“Just don't break it.” You say. “Treat it like my heart.”

Zoro makes a face that pulls a laugh out of you. “I would never do this to your heart.” Aw. You might have melted a little.

The tip of the blade slots perfectly into the pendant. After twisting it slowly like a key, the metal clicks to reveal: a locket.

Handing it over to you carefully, Zoro lets you open it the rest of the way. Inside, there are images drawn on two panels. You, as a child on one side… and Mihawk on the other. Now you understand why your mother treasured this so much. Tearing up, you sigh.

“You’re not surprised.” Zoro notes.

“...I think a part of me always knew.” You respond. “And, I definitely felt something when I held Yoru. No wonder why.”

Treading carefully, Zoro wraps his arms around your waist as he asks, “You’re not upset that he left?”

“But he didn’t. He’ll always be there for me, and so will you.” You smile up at him. “I’m happy I found my family again.”

Many years ago…

The grass on the meadow bristles gently in the wind. Dusk bathes the land in a dreamy, gold and purple hue.

After a day filled with imaginary adventures, two children wave their dearest friend goodbye. The princess smiles at them fondly before returning to the castle.

Kuina grins, face eager as she points her training sword to the sky. “I’ll be her knight someday. I’ll be commander and everything.”

Zoro jolts, immediately expressing in protest, “No, I’ll be the one to protect her! I’ll be commander!”

“Oh yeah?” The girl’s smile turns knowing. She pokes Zoro’s waist with her sword. “How will you do that? Aren’t you going to marry her?”

Stunned, Zoro can only stare at her in response. A blush creeps up his neck, reddening the tips of his ears. Kuina seizes the opportunity to make a run for it.

“Princess, wait up! Zoro wants to tell you something!”

“Kuina! Get back here!”

read the companion piece / my notes / the timeline of this story (in mihawk's perspective) here : "the taste of ale"

tags: @songsofadelaide-archive @ay0nha @amitydoodlez @sweetexistentialism @murnsondock @starszns @msmisasoup @writingmysanity @hotchocolattee @dimplewonie @hearts4zoro @kenkenmaaa @appalost @commanderfreethatdust @onebatch--twobatch @rebeccawinters @gunslxtz @akakaze @lownna

2K notes · View notes

leviathanspain · 5 months

Note

OMG I am living for the Finnick content!!! Could I request something with angst to fluff, with the prompt “look at me, look at me, you’re okay, we’re okay”? Maybe set after catching fire when they both wake up in district 13? Thank you!!

watercolor eyes

finnick odair x reader

synopsis: you didn’t think you would ever see those watercolor eyes again…

a/n: i used hearing loss as reader’s injury, there is no real explanation, so make one up :)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

it was a stunning color, almost indescribable. he was saying something, his hands moved frantically, you could see them in your peripheral. yet you remained in a trance with his eyes, watching them as they frantically searched yours. then, you realized his lips were moving, and you couldn’t hear him.

“do you think she can hear us?” he blinked, refusing to get emotional at just the thought. from how close you had been, it definitely could’ve resulted in hearing loss. the rescuing of who they could get in the arena didn’t go very well, and he hated to admit that he almost lost you. how he lost peeta and johanna, something that already weighed heavy on him.

suddenly, a scream erupted from you. finnick rose from your side, hands trying to calm you down. you were getting redder as you screamed, exhausting yourself.

“y/n!” he shouted, hoping you’d hear him and stop, but didn’t realize that you were screaming because you couldn’t hear your own voice.

you were panicking. from the looks of finnick, he could hear you, but you couldn’t hear your loud screaming. you felt the vibrations of your own voice, hand at your throat. but nothing was heard. your breath hitched as the stark realization dawned on you. you couldn’t even hear ringing in your ears.

helplessly, you gripped finnick’s arm as he searched your eyes. a doctor practically sprinted towards you. you panicked, gripping onto finnick as you fought off the doctor, a syringe in his hand. you screamed again, now out of reflex. finnick was trying to calm you down but it was hard for someone who had gone temporarily deaf. or at least he hoped it would be temporary. there was no knowing the damage.

“y/n.” he spoke as if you could hear him, shouting wouldn’t change things. you could feel his fingers on your cheek, gently wiping them as tears escaped your eyes.

you wanted to look at him, focus on his eyes, imagine the engulfing waters of the ocean, free to take you and finnick to places you could only dream of.

but the needle stabbing you wouldn’t let you float your mind away.

you wouldn’t be able to hear the ocean, let alone see it.

you grilled finnick’s arm, eyes fighting to stay connected to his, but they fluttered shut, getting one last glimpse of those watercolor eyes.

finnick watched as your eyes fluttered shut. he had been comforting you in a way he knew wasn’t helping. “you’re okay…” he whispered, “you’ll be okay.” he brushed a hair from your voice as your expression calmed. the doctors had decided to sedate you upon your outburst. “i’m sorry.” he whispered more, laying you down back into the bed, words repeating like a broken record.

it had been a week.

your ears were still sensitive, and you had been ordered to stay away from any and all loud noises, which meant you often stayed behind for when president coin called her meetings.

katniss had been making progress, from what you had gathered in whispers from finnick.

“only whispers.” he had whispered the first words you were able to hear. “doctor’s orders.” he smiled brightly. you exhaled, nodding as you matched his whisper. even the sound of your own voice was excruciating in volume. you had tried to force yourself to get used to loud volumes, but it was impossible.

it was more pain than it was worth, that even sometimes the whispers were too sharp.

so you and finnick often settled for a comforting silence. he would hold you in his arms, brushing your hair from your face as you stared deep into his eyes.

he grounded you, from the moment you met him, he had been nothing but kind. he loved you, killed for you, saved you.

“i love you.” you whispered so quietly you wondered if he could even hear you.

he looked down at you, having glanced away for a mere moment. his smile extended up to his eyes, “i love you more.” he whispered, still careful to be quiet.

#finnick odair oneshots #thg finnick odair #finnick odair x female!reader #finnick x reader #finnick x you #finnick odair angst #finnick odair smut #finnick odair x reader #finnick imagine #thg finnick #hunger games finnick #thg x reader #thg angst #thg imagine #finnick x y/n #finnick odair

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ickadori · 4 months

Note

Hiiii I love love loveeeee your sukuna and uraume fics, I keep rereading them!!

Had a kinda idea and would love if you could expand or share your thoughts

You said in one of your fics that reader would often go to uraume for sex if they were being punished by sukuna, well what would happen if sukuna walked in on them in the middle of it?

Would he just watch? Be a Bit angry? tell uraume what to do or to stop? Or maybe even punish uraume as well?

Hope your doing well, and looking forward to future stuff<33

cws for fem reader.

Sukuna didn’t often punish you solely due to the fact that you seldomly broke the rules that he had set in place for you.

Even if you had been foolish enough to test the bounds of The King of Curses’ patience when it came to you, there simply weren’t enough rules for you to go about breaking. There were only two rules that he had given you when you were first brought here so long ago - don’t cause harm to yourself, and don’t engage anyone besides himself and Uraume.

You weren’t too keen on hurting yourself, always having been especially sensitive to pain, even as little as a pinprick on your finger was enough to have you sniffling, and even if you had wanted to converse with the staff skittering around the palace, they had all been too terrified to interact with you, no one willing to give you so much as a glance in fear of incurring Sukuna’s wrath.

In total, you had only been punished two times, although you’re starting to think that Sukuna had gone especially easy on you before. You had been assigned to clean the entire upper left wing of the palace, the largest portion of the upstairs, and you had thought your fingers were going to fall off before he finally made you stop scrubbing already pristine floors. The other punishment had been barring you from the gardens, a pastime that he knew you loved. You’d spend most of your days walking the cobbled paths and aww’ing over the different flowers, and even watching the groundskeeper from a distance to keep them unaware of your presence lest they scurry off.

The punishments, which had seemed so cruel and painful in the moment, now pale in comparison to the new punishment that’s been bestowed upon you.

“Until you learn to take what’s given to you, you won’t be getting anything.”

Those were the words that he had left you with when you had been on the cusp of bliss, and nothing more. He had slipped out of you with a heart-shattering squelch and quickly placed his robe onto his broad shoulders, and left your chambers even quicker. It had been a restless night, thanks to him, and simply because you had been a bit too eager to finally take all of him - as if that was such a heinous crime that it warranted this level of punishment!

You had never been more miserable -not even when you had watched your village be razed to the ground- and Sukuna seemed bemused by your refusal to hide it. He smirked and chided you, even snickering with Uraume when the two of them caught you ogling so shamelessly, even going so far as to rocking in your seat.

Uraume always aligned themself with Sukuna when he was around, so them sharing joy over your suffering was to be expected, but Uraume succumbing to your whines and pleas the moment Sukuna left the palace was also to be expected.

Cornering them was easy enough - Uraume never strayed too far from your side whenever Sukuna wasn’t present. You had been in the gardens, gazing out at the colorful assortments of flowers before your mind had wandered to a past memory, a more lewd one, and suddenly you had been hyper aware of Uraume’s gaze on you.

It had lit your skin afire, blood rushing through your veins and making your head spin. You had practically collapsed in their arms when you neared them, and their hands, cold like ice, had quelled that fire so effortlessly, but there had been another one - one that Sukuna had lit and refused to put out.

“Uraume,” your voice comes out weak, a clear plea woven in between the dulcet tones, and shaky fingers reach out to curl around the belt of their kimono. “Can you.. can you help me?”

“Lord Sukuna has made your punishment known, and I am not inclined to end it early.” Their fingers wrap around your wrist, their grip unnaturally strong, and Uraume gives you a placid look. “It seems you’re still thinking about yourself - you greedy girl. Lord Sukuna’s pleasure should always come before your own—how many times must I tell you this?”

“But, Uraume!” Your whine sounds childish even to you, but the incessant throbbing between your legs is too great for you to care. “It isn’t fair.”

“That isn’t for you to decide.” They push your arms back by your sides, the action causing the floral kimono you wear to slip down a rounded shoulder. “If you behave for a bit longer, then I’m sure Lord Sukuna will—”

“—I don’t want Sukuna.” You’re certain that if you had said that in the earlier days of knowing Uraume, that they would have killed you without a second thought to Sukuna’s orders against harming you. “I want you, Uraume.”

They pause, their hands slackening around your wrists, and you take the opportunity to press your body flush against theirs, your breasts squished against their chest as your lips brush against theirs. “I need you.” Your breaths mix together. “Please - help me.”

There’s a beat of silence before they speak.

“…Lord Sukuna is not due back for another two nights.” Their voice is low, nearly silent, as if Sukuna could somehow witness his most loyal servant’s betrayal. “And he didn’t explicitly say that I wasn’t allowed to pleasure you,” their finger hooks into the crease of your kimono, and your breath quickens as they pull it down, slowly, until your chest is fully revealed. “But rather that he wouldn’t. So, I suppose..this should be fine.”

The chilled air bites at your exposed nipples, the buds quickly hardening, and Uraume puts a small gap between the two of you, a light flush working its way into their cheeks as they brush a finger over the hard bud. Their name leaves your mouth in a moan that they frequently called ‘wantonly’ when in a sour mood, and then your lips are pressing together, their hands working to undo your clothing while yours clutch onto theirs.

The kiss is dizzying -it always is with them- and you hardly notice your nude state when their tongue glides against your own, your mind fogging over as your lips move together. Their hand, cold as ice, clears the haze as it pushes against your stomach, fingers sliding lower until they’re drawing small, slow circles on your clit.

Your mouths part with a suctioned noise. “You poor fool,” Uraume gathers your slick on their fingers, the sheer amount of it making the both of you moan in astonishment, and they smear it over your folds before going back to your clit. “You’ve been suffering, haven’t you?” There’s an amused lilt to their voice, but you pay it no mind, too busy mouthing at the expanse of their neck as they all too easily slip two fingers into your drooling hole, thumb pressed firm to your throbbing nub.

You choke on a cry, shoulders tensing and toes curling in your geta sandals, and all it takes is one rub of their fingers against your walls to have you falling apart; eyes squeezed shut, lips parted, head tossed back, and back arched as you cum on their fingers.

Chants of Uraume leave you as they keep pumping their fingers, soft pads abusing that spot that never fails to turn you into a sloppy mess -something that they so frequently call you when you get like this- and their lips finding yours once again.

You quickly end up with your back against the flowers, mind too far gone to be upset over the broken stems and ruined petals. Uraume has taken to burrowing themself between your thighs, hands traveling up your waist and front to grope at your heaving breasts, mouth latched onto your cunt.

You’re sensitive - no doubt the result of Sukuna’s punishment, and every touch from Uraume is felt tenfold. Every swipe of their tongue sent a tingle of pleasure up your spine, every suckle on your clit made dots appear in your vision, and every squeeze and pinch of your breasts made your hole clench and ooze.

“Ura—” Your breath hitches when they groan against you, and you feel another high approaching, this one more intense than the last. Lithe fingers stretch you open, more than you’ve been stretched for weeks, and a skillful tongue flattens over your clit. You pull up tufts of grass and barely blossomed flowers as your hands scramble for purchase, your heels digging into the dirt.

Uraume speaks into your clit, the words lost on you, and your hands fly to their hair, fingers curling into the strands as something strong and paralyzing zips through you. Your muscles tense, tendons in your neck straining, eyes rolling, and then you’re relaxing just as fast, body slumping against the ground, lashes fluttering, and chest raising with soft breaths.

“Uraume..” You sigh, and the sun which had been steadily beaming its warm rays down onto the both of you is suddenly dimmed. You blink your eyes open, Uraume’s head slowly raising from between your thighs, and the both of you make a strangled noise at the sight of Sukuna towering over the both of you.

Two sets of eyes drag over the both of your forms, lingering on Uraume’s slick coated face and the mess between your thighs. His gaze collides with yours, and if your body didn’t feel as if it was made out of jelly, you would have hidden your face away into Uraume’s neck at the sharp look.

“Looks like I’ve got two brats to teach a lesson now.” Uraume flinches at the newly acquired title, and you flinch at the dark grin he casts down on the both of you.

“Oh, don’t sleep on me now,” a heavy smack lands on your ass, and you huff out a breath at the sting, tired eyes struggling to stay open. Uraume is laid beside you in a similar state - body flushed, hair disheveled, face mushed against the sheets to stifle their noises.

“You had a measly two days left to go.” Sukuna directs his words at you, his hips snapping forward to sink his cock into Uraume. “But you couldn’t keep this needy little thing in check.” Three thick fingers slam into the ‘needy little thing’ in question, and you keen, wet lashes squeezing shut. “And you.”

One hand grabs a fistful of white hair, and Uraume groans as they’re pulled up, lips coated in their own drool. “My most loyal falling victim to pussy of all things - pathetic.”

“L-Lord Sukuna!” Uraume’s hole is stretched to its limit around two cocks, and you feel a sob fight its way out of your throat at the sight. That’s what had caused all this - Sukuna freely being so rough and brutish with Uraume, not thinking twice before stuffing them full of everything he had, yet not doing the same for you.

“‘S not fair!” You cry, his fingers curling upwards to mash against that gummy spot inside you. “Ryomen!”

“Shut your mouth, girl.” Another hand moves to fiddle with your clit, and you feel an orgasm approaching, but you know he won’t let you have it. “You’ve talked enough, haven’t you?” His fingers spread and scissor inside you, and you feel yourself teetering on the edge before he’s slipping his hands away, a dark snicker leaving him as he steals your bliss away.

Uraume chooses then to moan out, your orgasm transferred over to them, and you feel painfully empty, hips pushing back in a silent beg as you whine into the sheets.

“I’ll fuck you until you’re sick of it,” he speaks against Uraume’s ear but his eyes are locked on yours. “So the next time she whines for you to touch this greedy pussy of hers while she’s on punishment,” his fingers slip their way back inside, “you’ll remember this and think twice.” His eyes narrow on you. “And you’ll watch me give them what you so desperately crave.”

#uraume x reader #sukuna x reader #uraume x sukuna #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut

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rae-writes · 1 year

Text

colored lenses

om brothers x reader

wc : 2.k

warnings : nsfw under the cut

synopsis : they say the eyes are the doorway to ones soul, and if that’s the case, yours must be intertwined with his, no?

a/n : nooo, asmo’s part was not rushed, I don’t know what you’re talking about-

Lucifer

He’d seen a flash of it before- a quick glimmer of midnight blue in your eyes before it was gone

He never thought anything of it though, not until he saw it fully

Diavolo had been going over everyone’s midterm grades and was congratulating you on your scores

Lucifer noticed your typical polite smile as you waved off his praise, but his eyes were trained on how your hues lit up bright, prideful blue

It made his mouth go dry; he was in awe

Subtlety, he’ll begin complimenting you more on the things you do so he can see that riveting shock of color

Mammon

On rare occasions do your eyes flash his pretty yellow, but the first time he saw it sent him reeling

The two of you were having a gaming competition with Levi and you’d finished first. “W-what?! Alright, best 3 out of 4! Winner gets a prize!”

Mammon was about to refuse, knowing he didn’t stand a chance at Devilkart if Levi was playing, but-

“Hell yeah, you’re on!” Grinning determinedly, your eyes flickered with golden yellow

The second born almost passed away on the spot

He might’ve gotten a bit more greedy seeing the sin on you, and fuck, did you look like a gem with it

Levi

Levi saw your eyes flash the colors of his brothers’ power from time to time, but given his sin, he didn’t mind the lack of seeing his own

He didn’t know how thrilling it could be though

You two had been out in town when he got stopped by a very flirty demon. He was too busy trying to get out of the conversation— he didn’t even realize…

When he glanced over at you for help, his body heated considerably at the sight of your eyes flashing a toxic orange

If he wasn’t so familiar with the sin he’d be sweating, but you make it look heavenly

Envy might not be a good feeling, but it’s a good look on you

Satan

The fourth born had felt your rage rise and simmer many times before

Being able to physically see it was a whole other experience he didn’t know he needed in life

Another rowdy night at the dinner table- typical - but you had a migraine and had asked the boys to stop five times now

It’s safe to say you were a bit pissed, and Satan knew it. When he glanced up, though, all thoughts of scolding his brothers went away

You sat there with your jaw clenched, eyes twinkling with wrath green. It was gorgeous.

Satan finds himself craving the look of his wrath on you, however he wouldn’t want his sin to trouble you too often

Asmo ; suggestive

Ohh when he discovered this little addition to having a pact with them, Asmo dreamed about seeing it every night (and got a little jealous when he saw his brothers’ colors instead)

He just needed to practice a little patience though

Upon Diavolo’s insistence, the student council was treated to drinks at the fall, and Asmo was already a little buzzed when he dragged you to dance

Body grinding against yours, he turned towards you in hopes of stealing a kiss- only to see a shock of pink in your irises

Heat shot through Asmo immediately; he couldn’t keep his hands to himself after that

More, more, more! Asmo adores seeing his sin on you and he doesn’t mind begging for it either

Beel

There were many times when he thought he saw a peak of red in your eyes as the two of you got food, but he always brushed it off as a trick of the lighting

It was only until you had to skip breakfast and lunch one day did Beel realize ‘oh’

You were leaning against him as you walked to Hell’s Kitchen, grumbling and complaining loudly

At Beel’s offer to carry you, you glanced up pitifully, showing the red hue bleeding into the color of your eyes

His own eyes widened, cheeks beginning to flush a deep pink

While he never wants you to go hungry, he doesn’t mind admitting that seeing his red on you is pleasing

Belphie

Soft waves of purple inside sleep riddled eyes were something Belphie saw often and loved every time he did

The first time was special, though. Right after you’d come back to the Devildom the first time, saddled in his arms after so long of him not having you

Sleepy you and even sleepier Belphie, but he wasn’t too out of it to miss the gentle light of purple

He was confused at first, but the familiar color shocked him awake and his heart nearly beat out of his chest

Sloth. His sloth. Showing up in you like it was the most natural thing in the 3 realms. He liked it better on you.

Even more than before, Belphie begs to sleep or nap with you— he needs to see it happen again and again

nsfw ver.

Lucifer

Tensions high and adrenaline running through your and his veins like lightning

Diavolo was due to come for a meeting in no more than 10 minutes

You knew that. Lucifer knew that. Yet you were still on your knees, tongue swirling around the head of his cock while you peered up at him through your lashes

His head was thrown back, eyes clenched, trying to compose himself— you didn’t like that. You wanted his attention.

Humming, you dug your nails into the exposed skin of his thigh, fighting back a grin when his head snapped up

Ruby hues narrowed down at you, ready to scold when the words died in his throat

The color of your irises had been completely taken over by his blue, shining with pride at the situation you had him in

Gritting his teeth and resisting the urge to moan, he chose to growl instead and thrust into your mouth sharply, smirking when the blue shone brighter at the taste of his cum

“Proud to be mine, Mc?”

Mammon

“Harder!”

Mammon gasped, hips following your order smoothly, “H-hah..what has gotten into you today?”

You whined as you pulled him closer, choosing not to answer in favor of burying your face in his neck

The moment he had walked through the door, you were all over him, begging and pleading to have him (which he’d never say no to)

“Mc-“ he tugged your head back by your hair, a sharp moan instantly following when he saw your eyes; shimmering greed in the form of yellow

Picking up the pace, Mammon held your head up by your jaw, demanding you keep your pretty eyes on him

Murmurs of ‘mine’ and ‘’s pretty f’me’ left him as he filled you up, watching the yellow flash gold

“Again. Wan’ more, Mammon- more of you.”

His own greed flared, making your pact burn pleasantly, “That’s right, Mc, show me your greed.”

Levi

You wanted Levi’s attention and you wanted it now but he was too caught up in the new official Ruri-Chan illustrations (with special outfits too)

Glaring at his back, you could feel magic pooling in your irises

“Levi.” Without waiting for a response, you yank his chair back and fiddle with his pants, “Give me attention.”

“Mc-!” He gaped as you took his cock in your hands, tail whipping out to wrap around your waist when you sheathed him fully inside

His eyes shot up to meet yours, wanting to ask what all this was about, when the air practically left him

There you were, eyebrows furrowed, lips parted, and eyes still glaring down at him- only this time they were orange

Levi whined loudly, hips involuntarily raising you up before he settled back down again, keen on letting you fuck him however you pleased

And fuck him you did, one hand tangling in his hair while the other rested against the base of his neck, hips not stopping their movements even after he’d already spilled inside you

“Quell my envy, Levi.”

Satan

You and Satan had gotten into a small dispute, but the feel of his anger coursing through your pact made you angry

Arms wrapped around your waist, lithe fingers gripping your hips hesitantly, but firmly, “I apologize. Shall we take some time to cool off?”

“I think we can cool each other off.” You glanced up with newly green hues, eyes narrowing involuntarily

Satan’s lips parted and he immediately grabbed you up and pressed you against one of the bookshelves, fiddling with your clothes until he was lined up and pressing into you

He set a hard, furious pace instantly, “How is it that you manage to be the one that calms me down and makes me so mad I can’t think, hm?”

You did nothing but tug at his blonde locks, bright green becoming darker as the seconds pass

And despite loving the neon color on you, Satan can’t help but coo at the sight of it fading— all because of him fucking it out of you

“Kiss.”

His own wrath faded down to nothing, lips covering yours softly as he held you close while you both finished together. “Calm the savage beast, yeah?”

Asmo

“C’mon, sweetheart, lemme see it- please? Pretty, pretty, pretty please? Show it to me.”

Asmo curled his fingers up just right, sending your body lurching in its chair and your eyes shooting open wide

“There it is…” alluring pink encased your irises, sending Azzy’s eyes flashing pink in return

Gasping, your eyes darted around until they landed on the self-satisfied expression your lover wore— you grinned

The phantom feeling of fingers pushing inside him made Asmo squeal, jumping up from his spot in surprise

With eyes now glowing a neon shade, you stared down at him while bucking your hips, “What’s the matter? Why’d you stop- was feeling so good.”

He gaped- you were using magic to mimic touching him. “Naughty~”

The two of you refused to let up until he’d came all over your lower half and your cum covered his fingers— and both your eyes were literally glowing

“Not done yet, darling~ let’s see if the pink can drown out the whites of your eyes too~”

Beel

“Mmph— hey…” Beel frowned, visibly deflating when you pushed his head out from between your legs, “‘m hungry…”

You kept pushing until he was flat on his back, “Me too.”

Heat shot straight to his cock- which you were pawing at- from the look you gave him; your irises were red

And he didn’t fully understand right away, not even when you settled on top of his face while also wrapping your lips around him

“w’nna taste y’too.”

Beel complied eagerly though, burying his face back in his spot while he tried not to thrust his hips

Only when you began quickening your ministrations with a muffled “give it t’me, beelie, ‘m hungry— wan’ it, wan’ y’r cum” did he click the pieces together

And though he tried not to, his hips stutter and thrust up, following your lead until he’s filling your mouth

Practically in awe at the way you don’t waste a drop, his sin cracks through his body- sending it flaring up in your own. “Again. ‘M still hungry, Mc..don’t you want more too?”

Belphie

Choked whines echoed in the attic, turning into embarrassed stuttering when you suddenly shifted and slid into his lap sluggishly

“Why didn’t you just ask for-“ you paused to yawn, “-help?” peering down at him with a purple glow, your hand replaced his on his cock

Belphie was basically speechless, watching you tiredly jerk him off before shuffling, working on getting your clothes out of the way

“W-wait! You don’t have to- ah!”

You sunk down comfortably, rocking back and forth at a leisure pace while stifling another yawn. “Help, please.”

His hips began moving before you could even say ‘please’, hands trailing under your shirt

“‘S good to me, my favorite human, makes me feel s’good—“ Belphie broke off with a moan, clamping his eyes shut at the embarrassing ‘ah, ah, ah’s that were leaving his mouth

The slow buildup was setting both your senses on fire, but you stopped him from moving faster (making him whine louder). “Slow, Bel…’m tired.”

#obey me x reader #obey me smut #om smut #om x reader #lucifer x reader #om lucifer #mammon x reader #om mammon #leviathan x reader #om levi #satan x reader #om satan #asmo x reader #om asmodeus #beel x reader #om beelzebub #belphie x reader #om belphegor

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petpenname · 17 days

Text

Heartache

pairing: Ellie Williams [brother's best friend] x fem reader c.w. : smoking summary: you have had your eyes on your brother's best friend and band member forever, but you'd never think she would actually talk to you? a/n: this was a submission + I'll make more parts if it gets a good response!

The air in your room hangs heavy with humidity. A slight breeze from your open window blows through, fluttering your various posters and decor hanging on your walls. And over you, sprawled across your bed, flipping through social media, you were honestly bored out of your mind. Three weeks into summer and your closest friend was away for vacation, leaving you alone… and bored.

Cycling through your socials again you get fed up with the lack of entertainment and toss your phone on the floor with an exacerbated sigh. You lay on your bed, wondering what you should do to fill the void of dopamine when the sound of music begins to fill the house. A mixture of rock, indie, and midwest emo songs rang out from your garage, conveniently positioned directly under your room.

Your brother's band got around to practicing, you assumed. You didn’t even realize your brother was home, he had gone out earlier this morning after your parents left for work. The music got louder and you suddenly had an idea of what you wanted to do, and it wasn't staying here and listening to your brother's shitty garage band. You gather your sketchbook, some pens, headphones, and a few other things into a bag, throw on a hoodie and a pair of shoes and head downstairs. You were headed to a river spot in the woods near your house. It was a commonly frequented spot by you, and your friends but not known to many. Perfect for a little seclusion and wading in cool water.

You walk down stairs and almost instantly are hit with the strong earthy smell of smoke. You linger for a second and decide that your trip would be improved with a joint, hoping your brother would front you something, you enter the loud garage.

Your brother and his band mates, all two of them, were unaware of your entrance. They were playing as loud as possible (maybe not as well as possible) but they were producing sound! Your brother slamming away on the drums while the guitarist, and bassist/singer were in their own worlds.

“Hey!” you yell over the trio.

“HEY KAI!” You shout once more at your brother. Who, without skipping a beat or stopping, yells back.

“WHAT DO YOU WANT?”

This got the attention of the other two band members who did stop upon seeing you standing there, amps silencing to white noise feedback.

“Can I get a joint?” you ask.

“You got money for a joint?” Kai laughs.

“Can you just front me one?” you reply back flatly

“Why should I?”

“If you give me one I wont tell mom you were smoking in the house again.” You counter.

“It’s the garage so technically not the house and whatever you know they wont do anything”

“She can have one of mine?” a voice sparks up behind Kai, drawing your attention to the guitarist. A girl named Ellie. She and Kai had been longtime friends and bandmates. You barely knew anything about her other than she was in Kai’s grade, one above yours, but you knew her. You knew her eye color, her favorite flannel she wore a little too often. You knew she got a new guitar last year, and a fresh tattoo this year that shined under the garage light as she held up a joint in your direction.

You also knew that this was one of the only times she had ever spoken to you. Not like you were around each other often but you almost felt like she would try to avoid you when she was over. Shocked, but with adrenaline pumping you took your chance, walking over to Ellie. She still had her guitar hanging around her, flannel sleeves rolled up, her hair was a bit disheveled from playing, strands falling out of her half up hair do.

She hands you the joint with a sideways smile, and her eyes glint a bit.

“Thanks, you’re so much nicer than my brother” you scoff, giving her a smile back. You turn to leave, flipping off Kai as you bound out the door, leaving the band members commotion in the garage. Not seeing Kai chuck a drumstick at Ellie who dodges it with a laugh.

The success of getting a joint over shined the butterflies fluttering in your stomach from that look she gave you. The sun hit your face as you got outside and you were only looking forward to your solo date in the forest.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun was setting slowly, but from where you were in the woods shade had taken over your spot. You had smoked, worked on your art, and walked along the water looking for rocks. Hanging out in the forest for a few hours always rejuvenated you in a way you couldn’t explain. But you started to get cold and decided now was a good time to head home. While packing up you realized you had pretty bad cotton mouth from the joint, so you planned to stop by the corner store.

It wasn’t a long walk but by the time you got to the corner store it was dusk. Street lights started sparking up like stars in the night sky. You opened the glass door and walked in, perusing the aisles for any snack or drink that could satiate your munchies. You were contemplating between an iced tea or a soda when the doorbell rang as someone walked in the store. You barely noticed the bell, or the girl walking up behind you until she spoke.

“Did you enjoy your smoke?”

You jump, previously lost in your thoughts, you turn around to see Ellie standing there. She was wearing a hoodie now, her guitar in its case strapped to her back.

“Oh my god you scared me!” you say, almost dropping the bottles in your hands.

“Sorry! Didn't mean to!” Ellie laughs, moving around you to open the fridge door next to you and grab a coke. “Funny running into you here” she says, a little awkward you note.

“I mean my house is only a few blocks away,” you laugh.

“Mm ya i guess so, you getting both of those?” Ellie looks down at the bottles in your hand.

“Oh um, I'm getting this one.” you hold up the iced tea & go to put back the soda. Before you could think Ellie takes the iced tea from your hand and starts walking towards the front of the store.

“Hey wait!” you look at her confused.

“Oh do you want something else princess?” Ellie turns back to look at you with a smirk.

Sparks ignite in your stomach, confused but now flustered, your mind swirling. You finally get a word out, “no, just that” and Ellie turns back to walk towards the cash register.

You follow her, not really knowing what to do or how to act. Ellie and you had barely spoken to each other before this. And now she's acting so casually around you, and what did she call you? Everything happened so fast you barely caught it but reflecting back now, did she call you princess?

Ellie pays for the two drinks and you walk out together, taking your ice tea from her once outside.

“Thank you, you didn't have to do that” you say, unscrewing the top and taking a refreshing sip.

“Don't mention it” Ellie says, “So are you going back home now?”

“Mhm yeah, what about you?”

“Yeah I was, but it's getting dark now, i’ll walk you back home first” Ellie says with a smile.

“Who said chivalry was dead” you joke, it was a nice gesture, as much as you were confused by Ellie’s sudden intentions you couldn’t help but feel a type of way when she looked at you. Her green eyes danced over your face like she was memorizing your features. You wondered if she always looked at you this way?

She had. Ellie for the past few years had been keeping such a distance from you because when you were around she felt her whole body tense up. She felt like she was on fire if you looked in her direction. And god help her if she tried to speak around you, she ended up tripping over her words and losing her train of thought. Truthfully, she didn't know what magical queer fairy blessed her with the confidence to talk to you today. But she had taken in a chance earlier in the garage, and when she saw you in the store she knew it wasn't a coincidence.

The walk back to your house was short, only a few blocks. You and Ellie joke together and talk about summer plans in the meantime. Both of you slightly high still, making your balance shifty, occasionally you would brush shoulders, sending sparks down each other's spines.

When you get to your house you stop at the walk way, a little awkwardly since you knew Ellie had been in your house before.

“Thanks for walking me home! And buying me this, um and the joint '' you say, taking in all of Ellie’s courtesy today, a little unsure what to do with yourself.

“Any time!” Ellie says with a smile, she fidgets where she stands for a second before reaching her hand up to your face. She tucks a small strand of hair behind your ear, without breaking eye contact.

“Have a good night y/n” and with that she turns around and walks away, putting up her hood.

She left you solidified on the sidewalk, body unmoving but nerves on fire with a simple touch. You float for the next hour or so, barely registering going into your house and up to your room. Trying to make sense of what had just happened, and why now? And why so suddenly?

Later that night you receive a notification on Instagram

* @www.ellie followed you *

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie tlou #ellie williams smut #ellie smut #the last of us

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pricelessemotion · 6 months

Text

poltergeists for sidekicks | E.M.

summary: [2.3k] the kids drag eddie to the halloween store where you happen to work.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, pining, eddie being a lovestruck idiot, r wears big prescription glasses and is described as having messy hair

a/n: happy halloween! here’s something i’ve been working on for ages just in time for the end of spooky szn! xoxo

masterlist

Eddie doesn’t hate Halloween.

He used to love Halloween. He likes autumn. He likes watching the leaves change colors. He can appreciate the novelty of a hot apple cider and a hay ride. Hell, ever since he was old enough to go trick or treating, he reveled in it. Free candy and all he had to do was put on a costume and say three magic words? Sign him up.

As he got older, he started to like Halloween for a slightly different reason. Don’t get him wrong, he still liked the free candy, but he liked the excuse to be someone else for a night. He liked how he could throw on a Michael Meyers mask and go door-to-door and be greeted with glee and sweets.

It does a funny thing to a kid’s self-esteem, being treated better when he’s wearing the face of a fictional serial killer.

Now, though, Eddie Munson is decidedly too old for trick or treating. He’s resigned himself to spending the holiday like it was any other day by spending the night in his room, playing guitar, and coming up with new campaign ideas.

Which is exactly what he was doing when three freshmen started pounding down the door of the trailer demanding entry. Within moments, they are practically on their hands and knees asking, nay begging, for the older boy to take them to get last-minute Halloween costumes.

“Aren’t you guys too old to go trick or treating?”

“This is why we need to go to the store! If we wear masks, no one will be able to tell how old we are, hence extending our years of candy collecting.” Dustin explains, matter of factly.

Eddie sighs, leaning back into the sofa, steepling his fingers together. “What’s in it for me?”

The three boys huddle together, conspiring in a manner that is not dissimilar to the way they plan their counterstrikes during Hellfire. They nod in sync, turning around so that Lucas is standing front and center, flanked by the two other boys.

“That one girl you like is working there.”

Eddie remains stone-faced, quipping sarcastically, “That’s very specific.”

Mike lets out an exasperated groan, threading his fingers through his hair before yanking at the ends in frustration. “Y’know, the weird one. Coke bottle glasses, messy hair, always holding a book?”

Lucas’ eyes widen. Dustin smacks Mike on the chest and the hollow sound rings out through the empty trailer. They all start talking over each other, with two of them berating the third for A. being insensitive and B. expecting a good outcome from said insensitivity.

Eddie wants to make a comment that your hair is not messy, it’s actually more voluminous. Besides, his hair is messy and he likes to think it makes him look badass. The glasses comment was a little unfair. Sure, the frames are a similar shade to the iconic green of the bottles of Coca-Cola. But the magnification was endearing, leaning more towards doe-eyed than bug. Unfortunately, Eddie did not consider that while he was observing you, someone might’ve been observing him.

The assurance of your presence is how Eddie ends up here, parked outside of a hardware store turned seasonal shop. He’s helping his friends. He’s supporting a local business and therefore contributing to the local economy! You being here is just a bonus.

A bell rings above them as he swings open the door, the motion setting off a scratchy pre-recorded cackle. He’s gotta hand it to whoever is running the store. They’ve gone out of their way to transform the dingy overhead fluorescents and worn-out linoleum into something that actually resembles an eerie boutique.

“Welcome in! I’ll be right witch you!” Your voice lilts out from the depths.

You appear out of the darkness, expertly weaving under fake cobwebs and pushing aside fanciful drapes that have no doubt been strung up precariously around the store to add to the ambiance. You’ve got a witch’s hat on, tall and black and pointy, which further explains the pun you greeted them with.

“How can I help you?” You smile brightly, adjusting your glasses.

The younger boys barely spare you a glance, just a chorus of we’re good! before running off to the other side of the store, where all of the costumes are located.

You barely blink at their rudeness. Whether that’s indicative of your experience in customer service or due to your generally sunny disposition, Eddie isn’t sure. You turn your smile and magnified gaze at him, “What about you?”

Eddie startles only slightly. He begins to peek over his shoulder as if there’s somebody else in the mostly deserted store that you could be talking to. What about him?

“Oh, I don’t need anything. I just came here with–” He gestures vaguely in the direction that the boys wandered off to. “The little shits that left me in the dust.”

You bark out a laugh, a small smile settling on your lips. “It’s sweet of you to help them out.”

Eddie only blushes in response, murmuring a quiet it’s nothing, scratching the back of his neck like he might find a switch that’ll make him remember how to talk like a normal human being.

“Well, if you change your mind, let me know.”

You pick up a clipboard and a pen and start leisurely strolling down the decor aisle, making inconsequential markings on the paper. Whenever you come across gaps in the shelves you reach back into them, pulling the products to the front edge with a concentration that is quite adorable.

He’s definitely staring by now. Feigning interest in a skull-shaped candy bowl, Eddie scrambles for something, anything to keep the conversation going. “I’m surprised you’re not busier.”

“You just missed the afternoon rush.” You say, straightening a pair of plastic tarantulas that have gone askew. “Not too many people came today, though. I guess they realized that it’s so close to the holiday that the shelves would be picked over.”

“Really?”

You shrug, “I think by October 30th, most people figure if they’re gonna dress up, they’d rather just pull together something from their closets than spend money. We’re actually busier the day after Halloween because everything gets marked down and people want cheap candy.”

“Makes sense.” He nods. “So, I take it you’re a big fan of Halloween?”

Your smile is apprehensive as if you’re not sure if he’s making fun of you. Your fingers brush the brim of the witch’s hat. “What gave me away?”

He falls into step beside you, clasping his hands behind his back and puffing out his chest. “I just had a feeling.” Then, feeling much braver than usual, he adds, “I like your outfit.”

You look at him again, clutching the clipboard to your chest. For once, your eyes are leaning more towards bug-eyed. The black velvet dress has draped sleeves and a skirt that swishes with every step. Orange and black striped tights protect your legs from the inevitable chill that comes with October in Indiana. “You do?”

“I do.” He insists, “It totally adds to the magical vibe. If you told me that you were an actual witch and this was just something you do to pass the time I’d one hundred percent believe you.”

All apprehension has slipped off your face, replaced by a genuine smile that cracks open his chest. “Thanks…” You trail off.

“Eddie.” He supplies.

“Well thank you, Eddie. I’d tell you my name but I’m guessing I don’t have to.” You say, rubbing the plastic name plate on your chest.

Eddie does know your name, but it isn’t because of your name tag. He was far too proud to ask around for your name, and far too afraid of rejection to ask you himself. He’d been lucky enough to get a library book right after you. He’d pulled the weathered paper from the slip, seen your name at the bottom of the checkout card, traced the loopy letters with the pad of his fingers. It had definitely been more than a little pathetic.

Eddie coughs, clearing his throat, trying to maintain any semblance of nonchalance. “Do you have any plans for Halloween?”

Your face slowly lifts from the clipboard, twirling your pen between swift fingers polished in a deep burgundy. Directing your gaze at him, you peer through dark lashes and Eddie’s never been more thankful for the inventor of coke bottle glasses. The magnification allows him to see the spark of intrigue dancing across your pupils.

“I was just gonna stay home. Maybe help my mom pass out candy.” The implication of the last sentence seems to hit you. You look down again, scrunching up your nose. Eddie finds it endearing how your first instinct is honesty rather than anything else.

“Cool. That’s cool,” Eddie says in a manner that is decidedly uncool. He fiddles with his rings before shoving his hands into his pockets. “Actually, I was wondering if—”

Suddenly, Eddie feels stupid for getting lost in your eyes and not paying attention to his surroundings. Maybe then he would’ve noticed how the linoleum got ever so slightly softer under the soles of worn-out boots. He would’ve seen the cloaked figure looming in the alcove, waiting for some unwitting soul to step on the pressure plate.

Unfortunately, Eddie did not see any of those things. The poltergeist, or ghost, or whatever the fuck it is swings out. He stumbles backward, releasing a shriek that is so high-pitched, that he wonders if he should start tapping into his upper range. Maybe it would add more texture to Corroded Coffin’s Tuesday night sets.

Instinctively, his arms fly backward, as if to protect you. He stumbles right into you, and he’s sure that if you didn’t grab his waist from behind, you would’ve fallen right over. Unfortunately, the movement has both of you careening back into a shelf, sending bags of overpriced candy and shitty Halloween decorations tumbling to the ground in a cascade of all things creepy and corny. He quickly spins around.

“Shit, are you–”

“I’m so sorry!”

“I should’ve warned you–”

At that moment, chests heaving and hearts racing, you both seem to realize that your hands are still grazing Eddie’s waist. You spring apart, scrambling to clean up the display, haphazardly grabbing the fallen items and placing them back in their rightful places on the shelves. Among them is your hat, another casualty of the calamity.

“I should’ve warned you,” You say again, slightly out of breath. “That thing nearly scares me to death every other day.”

“It’s fine. I should’ve paid attention to where I was walking. It just added to the whole spooktacular experience.” He picks up the hat from the floor, dusting it off. “I think this belongs to you.”

You give a bashful smile, but instead of putting the accessory in your outstretched hand, he gingerly places it on top of your head. Your glasses have slid down your nose from bending over to clean up his mess, and his thumbs gently push the joints of the frames until they’re sitting in their rightful place.

“There,” He punctuates his statement with a resolute tug on your hat, making sure it’s securely on your head. “Perfect.”

You preen at him, eyes sparkling, before you cast them down at the floor. Dustin comes running around the corner, closely followed by Mike and Lucas. All of them are carrying armfuls of miscellaneous Halloween supplies, obviously alarmed at the clamor, but not alarmed enough that they didn’t take their sweet time coming from the opposite end of the store. Eddie takes advantage of your bashfulness and distinctly shoots them a look that says get the hell out of here. Dustin’s eyes dart between the two of you before they widen and his mouth forms a small oh. He sends Eddie an exaggerated wink, walking backward in order to not interrupt the private moment, dragging his two friends along with him.

“Thanks,” You smile at him. “For protecting me. I know who to bring with me if I ever want to walk through a haunted house.”

He gives a lopsided grin, “My pleasure.”

“Ahem.” You clear your throat, “Anyways, what are your plans for Halloween?”

This is it. This is the moment that Eddie has been waiting for since he put down his guitar and his notebook and opened the trailer door.

“That depends.” He clasps his hands behind his back, jutting his chin up in the air. “Are you working tomorrow?”

“I get off at four.”

“The Hawk is doing this continuous horror movie marathon. Maybe you would want to go?” Eddie’s fingers are practically vibrating with excitement. He nearly forgets the most important part. “With me? I mean— Only if you like horror movies, I just figured because I’ve seen you walking around with that Stephen King novel. NOT that I’ve been watching you or anything!”

You let out a small giggle. The fact that you’re laughing and smiling is a good sign, even if it is slightly at his expense. He decides to lean into self-deprecation, hoping it’ll seem more charming than desperate.

“I’d say I don’t scare easily, but I think we’d both know that’s a lie by now.”

You scribble something near the bottom of the paper on the clipboard, delicately folding it and ripping it off before placing it in Eddie’s palm.

“Well, I’ve heard horror movies are less scary if you have someone to hold your hand.”

It doesn’t even matter that a ghost animatronic essentially acted as his wingman. The note with your number on it sits heavily in his pocket, thumb tracing over looped ink. Even though it’s cold as shit, he embarrassed himself, and signs of the spooky season decorate every corner, Eddie has a smile that rivals even the best of jack-o-lanterns.

As Eddie turns off towards the dirt path that leads to Forrest Hills Trailer Park, the smile still hasn’t faded.

For once, the streets of Hawkins seem a little less haunted.

likes are appreciated, comments and reblogs are cherished ♥️

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #mimi wrote ✍️#poltergeists for sidekicks

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herdarkestnightelegance · 8 days

Text

Bedhead

Pairing: Astarion/ g/n unnamed Tav

Tags: the fluffiest of fluff

Length: 1k words

Summary: Tav wakes up in Astarion‘s tent for the first time.

A/N: I'm really starting to enjoy this whole Fanfiction writing thing! Thank you all for all the love on my last fanfic Magpie Stash 🥹 👉👈

Once again I have to thank @nyx-knox for the thoughtful beta-reading, helping me to smooth out the bumps in the story ✨

Shout out to @onlyancunin. You know why ❤️

::::::::::::::::::

A single strip of sunlight falls directly onto your face, waking you gently. You don’t stir but slowly, you open your eyes. For a moment you’re disoriented. This isn’t your tent, is it? Slowly you look around. No, it’s not. And then you remember. It’s Astarion’s. And now that your senses catch up you feel him next to you, his arm laid sleepily across your stomach. You blink almost in disbelief at the sight of him still beside you.

This is new. Yes, the two of you have spent many hours together, sneaking away for moments of passion both here and in your tent, out in nature, in a couple of caves and a temple even. But usually you went your separate ways afterwards. Occasionally, you had fallen asleep next to each other but you usually woke to find him gone or already awake and half-dressed, like that first morning after the Tiefling Party. Never had you woken up to feel him still slumbering beside you before. In his tent no less.

But then you remember. Arms pulling you closer as you were about to disentangle from him, a kiss on the delicate skin below your ear and a single whispered word. “Stay?”

So you stayed.

You turn your head to look at Astarion. But to say what you see is not what you expected would be an understatement.

Unable to stop it, the corners of your lips curl up in an adoring grin. Often have you seen Astarion meditate on this journey. Usually lying on his back, his head resting on a pillow, hair immaculate, the ruffles on his shirt laid out perfectly, face relaxed and his fingers doing that dainty fingertips-touching-thing you’ve come to adore.

But this was not that.

Beneath a mess of tangled sheets, Astarion is lying on his stomach, one leg stretched away from him and the other at a weird but apparently comfortable angle. One arm draped over you, the other one tucked under his head, barely resting on the edge of his pillow, which has somehow wrapped itself halfway around his head. He looks completely disheveled and … utterly adorable.

It’s the light chuckle you can’t suppress that seems to wake your lover. He opens his eyes groggily, their crimson color practically glowing in the strip of morning light that had also awoken you.

In the few moments before he fully wakes from his rather unusual meditation, you see it clearly on his face: a flicker of a pleasant surprise to find you still beside him. Followed by confusion. Then a moment of vulnerability. And finally you see his trademark cocky smile slipping onto his face.

“You’re up early, darling.“ he says in a casual yet sleepy tone. “I thought I’d all but worn you out last night.”

“Good morning to you too.“ you answer back, the smirk lingering on your face. Slowly, he pulls his arm off you and turns onto his back. His slender body stretches deliciously, and you roll onto your side to face him, unable to take your eyes off all of his beautifully exposed pale skin. When he eventually sits up, you can’t help but let out a giggle.

“What?”, he asks, looking down at you.

“I’m sorry - it’s just …” You reach out your hand towards that mop of stunning white curls that look like an exploded feather-pillow, but you pause, waiting the slightest of moments before actually touching him. You realize you’ve never really… touched his hair. Sure, you had weaved your fingers into it, tugged at it in moments of passion, but … fixing these beautiful curls seems almost too … familiar? You can’t help but worry it’ll bother him. “May I?” you ask cautiously.

Astarion leans his head towards your hand ever-so-slightly, signalling you permission to touch his hair. “I’ve just never seen you like this, that’s all.” His curls are incredibly soft, even in their disheveled state. Has anyone ever seen him like this, you wonder.

“Like what?” he asks in a relaxed tone but you detect the slightest hint of insecurity. Inspecting his beautiful face for a moment longer, you notice the red skin and creases the pillow has left around his cheekbone and the drop of dried blood in the left corner of his mouth from when he drank from you.

“… Tousled,” you finally answer, still unsure if the word captures how endearing he looks to you in this state.

He huffs a laugh. “Well, my dear, you too are looking rather unkempt.” he says as he plucks a tiny, honest-to-god pillow-feather from the tangled mess on your own head. The two of you look at each other - all messy hair, dried blood, squished faces and sticky skin.

You wonder what the pale Elf is thinking, what he is searching for while he is studying your eyes so intently. Because all you feel in this moment is fondness. Fondness for him, for waking up together … for whatever it is that exists between the two of you. And you think he maybe feels it, too. Because, to your delight, a smile spreads on his indented face, his fangs momentarily glinting in the morning light before the both of you let out a laugh. He is so beautiful to you in that moment. And your heart swells in a way it has not done before, to the point of aching within the confines of your chest.

It’s Astarion who leans in first to kiss you then, running his fingers over the bird’s nest that is your hair. “I do think you look quite delicious like this, you know?” he whispers against your lips before pushing you down, pinning you back onto the bedroll as his weight comfortably settles onto you. You feel him smile into your kiss and you know it’s sincere. “So let’s see if we can mess up this hair of yours a bit more, shall we?”

#astarion x tav #astarion fluff #astarion fanfic #ohoh herdarkestnightelegance wrote something #living the dream #astarion x reader #astarion fic #astarion fanfiction

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just-jordie-things · 5 months

Text

just like my crush - fushiguro megumi

word count: 3.8k warnings: swearing, reader is doped up from anesthesia summary: confessing that you have a crush on someone really isn't that hard. all it takes is anesthesia clouding your judgment. a/n: brought to you by my lovely nanami flowershop anon's beautiful brain !!!

___

Injuries in this line work wasn’t unusual. Someone was always occupying Shoko’s little infirmary and keeping her busy. Nasty gashes, sprained wrists, broken bones- it was practically a part of the job description. No, it wasn’t pretty, but at least with a master of the Reverse Cursed Technique on site, the mishaps that came with assignments never lasted too long.

Because of this expectation, Megumi had never been put in a position where he worried over someone’s well being after an exorcism gone awry. He’d had life threatening wounds get healed more times than he could count on both hands, hell, Yuji lost a hand and got that back!

So why did he feel sick to his stomach when she took a bad hit during an assignment? Why did his throat close up too tight for him to explain the situation to the manager on the assignment? Or to Ieiri when he got her back to campus? Why was there a cold sweat racing down his spine, but his insides felt like they were on fire?

Despite all of Ieiri’s insisting that (y/n) was fine, that she’d gotten here just in time, that she was healed and would wake up at any time- likely without the memory of what happened- and that she would still be fine then… Megumi didn’t tear himself out of that room in the infirmary even once.

When she does wake up- two days and a couple hours later- he doesn’t look too good. He’d pale and he’s been bouncing his leg for so long it’s gone numb, but the relief that washes over him brings some color back to his face.

Her eyelashes flicker about a few times before she finally opens her eyes, but his attention is drawn to the way her hand twitches above the stark white sheets.

“Hey,” He murmurs, as quiet as he can stand to speak. He didn’t want to startle her, and he thinks that if she were to flinch back at him, he’d flinch too. “(y/n), you awake?” He asks when she doesn’t say anything right away.

Then her eyes finally find him, and with a hazy gloss over her blown pupils, she smiles. It’s slow, and so, so impaired, but it’s pretty nonetheless.

“Oh, wow,”

Her voice is strained, likely from not having been used for a couple days, but the light and breezy way in which she speaks is enough for him to know that her anesthetics haven’t worn off. The stoner-like smile also tipped him off pretty well, but Megumi’s sure now.

“You know who you look like?”

It’s not the question Megumi’s expecting, and his confusion is obvious in the way a tiny knot forms between his brows. He would’ve thought ‘where am I?’ or ‘what happened?’ would be in order, but maybe the anesthesia was more on top of her than he would’ve thought, so he hums in response and waits for her explanation. Surely she’ll have something silly to say, it wouldn’t be the first time she called him a sea urchin for his messy hair.

“You look jus’ like my crush” (y/n) half-slurs back. She tilted her head in his direction, trying to get a better look at him from where she was laying, but the rest of her body felt too heavy to move.

Megumi’s eyes widen, and before he can stop himself a small laugh comes out. Confusion, humor, and disbelief blend into the overwhelming relief in knowing that Ieiri hadn’t been lying to him to protect his feelings. (y/n) would be completely fine.

Maybe a little bit high, but still, completely fine.

Her shoulders shake in the slightest when she laughs in response to his own little chuckle, delighted purely by his reaction.

“I’m serious,” She mumbles out, eyes falling heavy for a minute the longer she stares at him. “And it’s a compliment too, b’cause he’s, like, really cute” “I didn’t know you were crushing on anyone” Megumi hums, leaning his elbows against the edge of her cot so that he could prop his chin in his hands. Amusement flickers in his eyes when her expression noticeably shifts. Her eyes widen and her lips part but no words come out. Was he actually making her nervous? Who the hell did he look like in her eyes right now that had her reacting like this?

Megumi can’t recall a time she’d ever talked to him about crushing on anyone. Nothing of the sort, not even a hint. And he’d definitely never seen the ruthless sorcerer appear so…

Well, she looked like a girl with a crush. A blush was forming on her cheeks the longer he held eye contact with her, and the way the corners of her mouth twitched and betrayed her as she tried to bite back a smile.

“Y-yeah, duh,” She stammers back at him with a sassy roll of her eyes. Megumi’s quick to push his hand against his mouth to stifle his laughter. “The point of a crush is it’s secret”

“So you’re not gonna tell me then?” He asks curiously.

She probably didn’t know it, but (y/l/n) (y/n) was the only person in the world that got to see the playful side of him. It was hard not to act on his intrigue, though. It was too entertaining to see her in this state… and the rapid beating of his heart in his ribcage made him ache to know more.

But she shakes her head against her pillow, sealing her lips shut to further prove her point. She’s still smiling, though, and she hasn’t torn her eyes off of his since she woke up.

“How’re you feeling, anyways?” Megumi decides to steer the topic back to one of more importance. “Anything hurt? Can I get you anything-?”

“Even your eyes are pretty like his,” She interrupts him, and then sighs as though this was a large inconvenience for her. “You must be related,” She says matter-of-factly.

He hopes that when the drugs wear off she doesn’t remember this moment, because Megumi knows his face is as red as a tomato with how fiery his skin feels. A nervous laugh bubbles out of him before he could choke it down, and her whole face lights up in response.

“You must not get compliments often, huh?” She teases in a slow drawl.

“I… I guess not,” He says, followed by more nervous laughter that happens against his will. “But thank you, (y/n). That’s very… kind”

He’s painfully awkward, and he knows that as soon as he leaves this room he’s going to overthink this entire interaction, but for now he tries to bask in the warmth that sparks from knowing she thinks he has pretty eyes. Or at least, she does when she’s so doped up she can’t quite focus on a conversation.

But at least she's obviously not in any pain. Megumi’s worries begin to melt away, but that might just be the work of her flattery.

“You’re welcome,” She grins back at him, but she just as soon furrows her brows and regards him curiously. Even after staring at him so shamelessly, she suddenly doesn’t appear to recognize him one bit. “I thought Megumi only had a sister, though”

It comes out in a mumble, and he’s sure that she’s talking to herself in her deluded state, but the rush of heat that floods his chest and shoots up his neck is nearly too much to bear.

She actually didn’t recognize him this whole time? Was she talking about him this whole time? Was the flattery not a drug-induced misconception and actually-?

Before he can settle on a question to ask her to clear his confusion, she’s settling back into her pillow and her eyes are falling shut. Megumi opens his mouth, ready to force out the first thing that comes to mind, but she drifts off almost immediately. Her chest rising and falling in slow, steady movements.

It felt like a cruel prank.

Now he was left sitting and gaping at her unconscious form. His heart is racing and his leg is bouncing again, and Megumi thinks he might be even more anxious for her to wake up this time.

He decides then and there that when she does, and when she’s of sound mind again, he’ll ask her about it. Because if she really did have a crush on him he’d have to finally get over his ridiculous anxiety and make a move. ___

A week after making a full recovery, (y/n) comes to the decision that if she wants Megumi to talk to her, she’ll just have to corner him.

She’s not sure why he hasn’t been talking to her- hence her cornering plan- but ever since her last assignment had gone awry and she’d been put on a minor hold, he’d been dodging her. And sure, Megumi wasn’t always the most sociable guy, but he was a friend and even if he didn’t feel like hanging out, he wouldn’t completely ghost her like this.

Of course she’d tried asking Yuji and Nobara about it, but they were a dead end. They’d been just as surprised as she was that he’d been avoiding her.

I thought you were best friends, Yuji had frowned at the idea of a falling out between his two friends that he cared about so much.

Maybe he realized you have a crush on him and pussied out, Nobara had cackled at the scenario, not feeling an ounce of worry that this weird bump wouldn’t get resolved.

Needless to say, (y/n) was quick to steer her investigation far away from them, before the blabbermouths could do what they do best and blab around the wrong people.

She corners him while doing laundry, of all things.

“Hey,”

And when she walks into the room while he’s tossing his freshly washed laundry into the dryer, Megumi hits his head on the lid when he swivels around in shock to see her there.

“Oh god, are you alright?”

“I’m fine- it’s fine,” He answers all too quickly, before she’s even finished her question. “I’m almost done with the washing machine”

(y/n) can’t help but chuckle a little bit, seeing as she wasn’t currently holding a basket of laundry, but Megumi’s already back to filling up the dryer. It appears every piece of clothing he tosses in is monochrome- mostly black, but a few gray pieces here and there. This shouldn’t come as a surprise, but it is a bit funny.

“I actually was looking for you,” She tells him, leaning against the doorframe. It’s half casual, and half to block his only escape. Megumi responds with a small hum, still putting all of his focus on moving the laundry. “Are you upset with me?”

The question has him swiveling again, finally giving her his undivided attention. It’s a bit unnerving, the way he straightens up and goes rigid as he stares back at her in bewilderment. She wants to be annoyed that he has the audacity to look confused when he was the one that had been avoiding her for days, but she gives him the benefit of the doubt

“Upset? No. No of course not” He answers, and his words are so certain, that she believes him straight away. But the small bit of truth doesn’t provide much relief.

“Then how come you’ve been dodging me?” She asks, unable to help her frown. What other reason could there be? If he’s not mad at something, why would act so flaky?

“I haven’t been dodging you”

“That’s a lie”

“It’s not?”

“It is,” She crosses her arms defensively. “You haven’t been answering your phone and you always have some excuse to not talk to me. Did I do something?”

“Not really”

He winces as soon as the answer leaves his mouth. It wasn’t like him to get so careless- but it also wasn’t like him to avoid her. Really, he was falling apart at the seams and trying quite desperately to appear as though everything was normal.

It wasn’t working. (y/n) could see the panic in his eyes as clear as day. Not to mention the way his lips twitched like he was holding back further explanation. She narrows her eyes as she studies him carefully.

“Not really?” She repeats his lame answer. “So sort of? So I did do something?”

Megumi’s certain that she chose to stand in the doorway so he couldn’t make an easy escape. Would it be immature to summon the rabbits?

“(y/n) it’s- it’s fine. It’s me, alright?” He’s not very convincing.

“So you did something?” Another question he doesn’t want to answer.

“No- just- not really- it was just-” He stammers, and then groans, tilting his head back and glaring at the fluorescent light hanging over him.

He recalls the way he’d sworn to himself that he’d talk to her about her little anesthesia-induced confession, and kicks himself now for cowering out of it. Megumi never really ran away from a challenge, even when he knew he was in over his head. But something about standing before her now and explaining how she’d inadvertently confessed to having a crush on him makes his heart beat out of sync and his throat go dry.

“Look I just don’t want things to be weird between us,” (y/n) sighs, giving up on interrogating him so heavily. “So just… whatever it is, can we talk about it?”

And he swoons, actually swoons. His knees physically feel weak and he has to resist the urge to let all of his muscles relax and sink towards the ground. It was so sweet, so considerate of her to want to mend the nonexistent conflict between them. Megumi didn’t think it was possible to like her more than he already did, but she had a knack for proving him wrong.

So with an anxious breath, he thinks screw it and just lets it out.

“Do you remember waking up and talking to me in the infirmary?”

Her brows furrow, giving him her answer, and then her features soften with realization.

“You visited me in the infirmary?” She asks, almost in a whisper. No, she didn’t remember, and no one had told her she’d had any visitors during her short stay there.

Megumi nods his head.

“Yeah, I… I stayed till you woke up. And you did, for a couple minutes anyways, but you were pretty out of it. Anesthesia and all” He explains.

She tries to rack her memory for any hazy glimpse of talking to Megumi in Shoko’s clinic, but nothing comes to mind. She feels a little guilty now, having forgotten so easily.

“Okay…” She trails off, waiting for the rest of his explanation. “So… something happened then?”

Megumi hesitates, his expression twisted in mild displeasure, like he just stubbed his toe or has to deliver an oral presentation. (y/n) tries to be patient, she really does, but the longer he draws this out the larger the pit in her stomach grows.

“Yeah,” The word comes out through a heavy breath, and he pauses for just a moment longer before admitting the last detail. “You… you sort of confessed that you have a crush on me”

“Oh,”

Relief settles into her bones, and then a spike of panic.

“Oh”

Her eyes are widening and her arms wrap tighter around herself, fingers digging into the sides of her ribs as if she could possibly ground herself with her anxiety reaching an all time high.

For fuck’s sake, she wasn’t this anxious when that Grade One tried to take a massive bite out of her body.

“You were really out of it, though,” Megumi says quickly. “You were just… high. You probably just couldn’t see or think straight-”

“No, I wasn’t just high,” She cuts him off with surprising calmness in her voice, and a short shake of her head. “I do. Have a crush on you, I mean. I didn’t… obviously I didn’t intend to tell you that, but, I guess high-me can’t keep a secret, so…”

She trails off with a bashful giggle that would have embarrassed her if she wasn’t already filled to the brim with embarrassment. Megumi’s lips part, but he doesn’t say anything. The corner of his mouth twitches a few times too, and still, he’s standing in bewildered silence before her.

It’s not that he didn’t believe her, he was eighty-five percent sure that she’d meant what she said while she was still under the influence of the anesthetics, but that fifteen percent of uncertainty was his paranoia getting the best of him. But now she was of sound mind, dead sober, and dead serious as she stared at him and awaited some sort of reaction.

No real reaction came, unless you counted the drumming of his fingers against his side, slow at first, but picking up speed the longer they both stood there and waited for the other to say something.

Megumi knows he should say something, and probably something along the lines of; well that’s a relief because I’m actually crushing on you so hard I don’t know what to do with myself… but unfortunately, he really didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Do I even want to know how badly I embarrassed myself?” (y/n) breaks the silence with a nervous but curious smile.

“You said I looked just like your crush,” He explained, heat flooding to his face as he recalled the other things she said. “It was actually the first thing you said when you woke up,”

She has to laugh at that a little, to which Megumi feels some of the tension in his shoulders disappear. The tension in the room also starts to thin out, much to his relief.

“Then you went on about how cute your crush was. And when I tried to ask how you were feeling, after, you know, surgery and all that, you ignored me and said…” He rubs the back of his neck, growing shy as he realized he was rambling and the subject matter already had his heart racing.

“Oh god… what?” (y/n) gasps, eyes widening, hoping she didn’t let out some dirty thought that she worked very hard to keep in the back of her mind.

“You said I had pretty eyes, and then you sorta let it slip that I was your crush, so I guess you didn’t realize you were talking to me the whole time… and then you passed back out”

She’s laughing again, but this time she covers her face with her hands in a pitiful attempt to hide her blush until it goes away. A small groan dies at the back of her throat. The second hand embarrassment from her past-inebriated-self was just too much.

After all this time she's done so well at keeping her feelings under wraps, of never letting it be known with a slip of tongue or lingering touch, only to tell him so brazenly while in a hospital cot… it was ridiculous.

“God… I’m so sorry, that’s… wow, that’s probably the most humiliating thing I’ve ever done” She starts off looking at him, but ends up muttering to herself and looks away, still overwhelmed by the mortification of it all.

A small smile graces Megumi’s face, and in a moment of being true to his word, he musters up the courage to speak up before she could walk away and pretend this didn’t happen.

“It was more cute than humiliating,” He tells her, and she peeks back up at him in soft surprise. “Maybe just a little embarrassing, just a little… but… still cute” His voice gets softer the longer she looks at him and he starts to lose the confidence he started out so strong with, but he still holds her gaze, hoping that she’ll know he means it.

“Cute?” She repeats in quiet disbelief. Megumi nods back at her with absolute certainty and sincerity.

He gives into another bout of a confidence boost and takes a few steps forward, closing some of the space between them. (y/n) practically scrambles to straighten up away from the doorframe, her shoulders squaring and her eyes widening as she watches him move towards her.

“And for what it’s worth, I think you have pretty eyes, too,”

It’s quieter than he intends, but his words are effective in replacing the nervous tension in the room with something much more palpable. The electricity buzzing between them was so thick they were practically choking on it.

(y/n) smiles, slow at first, processing the sudden compliment, and then all once. Every inch of her skin warmed from the sweet words, and she’s not sure she’s ever felt flattery like this before. She’s never taken a compliment so to heart, never known that she was going to go to sleep that night playing it over and over in her head.

Megumi’s eyes flicker between hers for a moment, admiring the way she lights up with delight before him, and then he opens his mouth again.

“They look just like my crush’s”

Her brows furrow and despite that feeling of embarrassment spiking in her chest again, the corner of her lips curl into a smirk that gives into a smile almost immediately after. Megumi’s clearly amused by this reaction, laughing to himself like he was so proud of his own tease.

“That’s so corny” She mutters, before stepping away from the doorway and closing the last bit of distance between them.

Despite his nerves he anticipates her movements, large hands finding purchase on her hips and practically yanking her the rest of the way that it takes to have her body against his. There’s no extra time for words before their lips crash fast. The kiss is surprisingly tender for how rushed their movements were, but it had them both melting into the other right away.

Her hands are gentle as they smooth over his shoulders before wrapping lightly at the nape of his neck. Her fingers poke into the dark strands of hair that hang there, and when she curls a few locks between her index and middle finger, he presses his lips against hers with a little more fervor.

Even once they part from one another, neither one goes very far. Gasping for air with lips still brushing each other’s, noses bumping, and hands still holding on tight all in the name of not putting an inch of distance between them.

Still no words are exchanged as they share a look before both glancing at the open doorway behind them. It doesn’t take verbal communication for Megumi to reach behind her to grab the door by the handle and swing it shut. The only sound that fills the room is the white noise buzzing from the dryer cycle, and the soft giggle that’s immediately suppressed by warm, inviting lips pressing against hers again.

___

a/n: thank u again my amazing nanami flowershop anon for this really fun idea. also i just love playful megumi. he's so cute n shy <3

xoxo ~ jordie

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