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roosterforme · 11 hours

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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 5 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: With each email written and received, you and Bradley are both aching for more details. While he's thinking about plans for a first date, you get apprehensive, knowing you're going to be devastated when he returns to wherever he calls home after a few days of leave. If the two of you had an opportunity to speak more intimately, there's a chance the details could fall into place.

Warnings: Fluff, language, Bradley being hot

Length: 4200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

After much consideration on the matter, you sat down at home that evening with your phone and started to type up a response to Bradley. He wanted to know in an overabundance of detail how you'd feel if he asked to cancel your dinner reservation and chill with takeout instead? You weren't quite sure what he was getting at, and it felt a little bit like he had given you another assignment to work on, but you were planning on being completely transparent with him.

Once again, the ease with which you and he communicated, even through the written word alone, was something that made you a little dizzy. A little needy. Bradley had better communication skills and paid you more attention than half of the men you'd dated, and he wasn't even in the same time zone as you.

Bradley,

We got the package you sent. My kids went wild over their personalized notes, as per usual. You've reached full celebrity status in my classroom. We'll be working on sending some notes back to you in the next few days, so brace yourself.

Please remember that you asked me for an abundance of detail here... What would I do if you wanted to change plans? Wanted to spend a quiet evening hanging out at your place instead of going out? In an extreme effort to sound as cool as possible right now... just thinking about this is making me feel warm enough that I need to take a lap around my apartment. I guess first of all, I would tell you that as far as takeout is concerned, I love Thai food the most. I'm not very picky though, so even a generic pizza and some beer would more than suffice.

If you said you were tired from work and still wanted to hang out, I wouldn't be too pressed about the details. I would be perhaps a little giddy that you missed me enough to want me around. I'd offer to pick up dinner on my way. I would let you choose the movie. I wouldn't even be upset if you fell asleep. In fact I'd probably just cover you with a blanket and let you doze. There is perhaps no worse feeling than forcing yourself to go out when you just really don't want to. And right now nothing sounds better to me than watching a movie with you on your couch. But I have to know... if you're 6'1", are you too tall to stretch out there comfortably? Where would I end up? Would we be touching? Please reply with an abundance of detail.

I know this scenario is purely hypothetical, but it does sound pretty perfect. I'll be thinking about splitting some Thai curry with you on your couch for a long time. Maybe during those couple days of leave when you get back to San Diego, we could meet? I think I would like that, even if you just have one day before you have to get back to your regular routine. And now I need to take another lap around my apartment.

One last thing. The aviator who took my photo on the beach was a woman, but I appreciate your response. I can't guarantee I'll stay off the beach, but I can guarantee that I'll give a guy a chance. Also, what does a girl have to do around here to get a dreamy sunset photo of you?

Once again, hitting send before I can change my mind.

You took another lap around your apartment, even going so far as to walk around the block before it got too dark outside. Thai food and Bradley Bradshaw and a movie on his couch. There was a loop playing in your mind where he leaned in and kissed you before calling you 'Gorgeous Girl' and reaching for your hand.

"Why are you torturing yourself like this?" you moaned out loud when you walked back inside all flushed with desire. You took a long bath. You made some sleepy time tea. You sat on your couch with your notebook and worked on lesson plans until it was pretty late, but you weren't tired at all.

Frustrated that you were letting this man take over so much of your brain, you went to your bedroom and plugged your phone in for the night. And that's when you heard the familiar ping, alerting you to the fact that you had a new email.

"No way," you gasped when you looked at the screen. You'd just send him a response two hours ago, and Bradley had already written back. You flopped down onto your bed, wrenching your phone back from the charger as you started to read.

Hey, Gorgeous,

Your answer was enlightening, thank you. Relieved to hear you wouldn't pout about missing the dinner reservation. I love Thai food, but I would absolutely insist on grabbing the takeout and having you pick the movie (nothing with scary spiders, please).

I actually don't really fit on my couch too well at all. If I really stretch out, my feet dangle over the arm, and there wouldn't be much room left for you, too. Would we be touching? God, I hope so. Where would you end up? I'm blushing just thinking about the possibilities.

You asked for details? Well, I'd ask for permission. If you gave me permission to touch you, we'd be holding hands. If you gave me permission for more than that, then you'd be covering both of us with a blanket, and I'd be holding you a lot closer. I don't think I should provide further details on that right now, actually. Gorgeous girl, you're messing with my head.

If you're feeling generous enough to give me a chance, then I'm feeling generous enough to send you a sunset photo. But frankly a girl like you isn't going to have to do much at all to get whatever she wants. Next decent sunset around here is all for you.

Your Truly,

Bradley

Well, you may never sleep again. You read his email twice before pulling up the photo of him in front of his jet, and your mind started to wander as you looked at his face. No, you'd never sleep again.

------------------------------

Bradley felt pretty ridiculous. He'd never taken so many photos of himself before in his life. Snapping a few for your class while in his cockpit with all of his gear on was one thing, but trying to get a flattering one of his face with the sun setting in the middle of the ocean was something else entirely. He was alone in a deserted part of the deck, thankful nobody else could see him.

"Maybe she won't notice if I'm not in it," he muttered as he snapped one of the setting sun. The sky was glowing a deep orange, and the clouds moving in made everything look even dreamier. He started thinking about you and the fact that you said you were going to give him a chance. The details weren't important. He'd work that part out. When he got back to San Diego, he was going to see if you and he were as compatible in person as you were right now. But the remainder of his deployment was the one thing that was preventing that from happening immediately, and you did ask him for a photo of himself. If you really wanted it, he'd make sure you had it.

He had never been so stressed out about his scars in his adult life before right now. The best photo he took of himself was one where they looked a little more prominent. He'd sleep on it tonight and consider if he wanted to send it or a different one. Usually he didn't care at all. He supposed that in person, women would either talk to him or not, depending upon if they were bothered by the way he looked or not. But you weren't with him in person, and the more detailed the photos were, the more likely you were to dwell on his face now. He really wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

After grabbing an inspired dinner alone in the mess hall, he thought about eating spicy Thai curry on his couch while you and he argued playfully about which movie to watch. Then he thought about you sitting on his lap and maybe even touching his scars which he hoped you wouldn't be bothered by. Then, as he changed to head to the gym, he imagined all the things he thought about but didn't tell you. Like pulling you onto his lap or stretching out on his couch with you lying mostly on top of him. His hand would find a nice resting spot on your back, or maybe even a little lower. His lips would eventually find yours, and the movie would become a distant memory in his mind.

"Shit." Now he was the one who needed to walk a lap before he could even go to the gym. He was already sweating by the time he got there, making it his continued mission to avoid the married woman while he listened to his playlist. He did a few extra reps, knowing you were on dry land in San Diego and wanting to make sure he looked as good as possible. Maybe he could make up for the close up photo of his face with his body.

Without sleeping on it, Bradley went back to the lounge and logged in. He sent you the best photo of the bunch along with two sentences.

Thinking of you, Gorgeous. Tell me about your week.

But he didn't hear back from you right away, and it wasn't for lack of checking his inbox. He hoped you and your students were working their way through the last batch of notes that he'd mailed. Or maybe you were busy and tired from taking them on a field trip. He was hoping there was a reason other than you not liking his bad selfie that meant he didn't get a response.

Luckily he got busy over the weekend so he didn't have to think about it as much. Each time he climbed that ladder up to his cockpit and waited patiently for his jet to launch from the carrier deck, he took a few seconds to clear his mind and make sure he was focused on the right thing. He needed to survive this deployment so he could even potentially allow his thoughts to go further with you later.

When he made his way back to the lounge after dinner and a shower on Sunday night, he definitely got more in his inbox than he was hoping for. And not in a good way. There was a new message from you, but it was sitting right beneath a second, newer message. From Vanessa.

"What the fuck?" Bradley asked himself, loud enough that the guy next to him turned and glanced his way. It had been months since they'd spoken. Literally fucking months, and she was emailing him now? "No." Sudden panic started to boil to the surface as he quickly tried to click on it, now terrified about what she could be contacting him in regards to.

Hi,

I'm only writing to you because I have a bit of an issue that I need your help dealing with. I can't find my favorite water bottle anywhere. I think it's in your kitchen cabinet, and I just started at a new gym, so I really need it. Let me know how I can get into your house to retrieve it. And please don't take forever to respond to this like you usually do. Like I said, I really need it.

Vanessa

It was a joke. It must be. Bradley double checked the email address to make sure he wasn't being pranked by Nat or somebody else, but no, it was really from Vanessa.

"A fucking water bottle?" he muttered. He couldn't even picture what she was talking about. Unless it was that ugly, oversized pink thing she used to carry around with her everywhere? The one with the big handle that he joked could double as a weapon? That thing?

What the fuck. He wrote back to her before he even bothered to open the email from you.

Vanessa, it's a water bottle. And it's already been months. Can't this wait until I'm home?

He hit send, rolled his shoulders and took a few deep breaths. He could archive her message so he didn't have to see it again, and he'd just deal with her bullshit later. He would read what you had to say instead, and hopefully it would cheer him up. But after he stood and stretched for a minute and sat back down, there was already a new response from Vanessa waiting for him.

"What the actual hell?" he grunted. He didn't even know what time it was at home, and he didn't take the few seconds to do the math as he started to read.

No, Bradley. I can't wait. It's a $65 sustainable, dual temperature, leak proof water bottle in a limited edition color. And I would like it back. I tried to find a replacement online, but I do not want a potentially used water bottle. Please advise.

He sat there with his fists clenched and his jaw set tight. He literally could not believe her. Anyone else would just use a different water bottle like a normal person, but he knew she'd be on his ass nonstop about this now. The fact that he was going to have to explain this situation to Nat and beg her to go over there with his spare key was almost laughable. He'd probably owe her two steak dinners if he asked her to deal with his ex girlfriend, because she never could stomach Vanessa.

He sent Nat a quick email anyway with Vanessa's phone number which he had to look up in his phone, begging her to take care of this for him. It would be worth the price of two dinners at this point. Then he settled back in his seat and tapped on your beautiful name, letting the monitor fill up with your words. When he started reading, he forgot he was supposed to feel nervous at what you sent back in response to the close up selfie.

Bradley,

Wow. I didn't think things could improve after the photo of you with your jet and the video where you're speaking. But I was wrong. So wrong. And I'm not upset about it. You're very handsome. The sunset looks okay, too. Now you're the one messing with my head.

I'm sorry I didn't write back immediately, but you should know that your hot photo has taken up residence in my mind. My week involved three of my students getting sick with the flu as well as a bunch of parent/teacher conferences, and tonight I'm really tired. The idea of snuggling, or more, with you on your couch has been playing on loop. I'm giving you permission to hold my hand if we ever meet in person. You have very nice looking hands. You have a very nice looking everything. Would you mind me asking how old you are?

Right, well, we mailed another box back to you on Friday afternoon. My kids asked me to project a photo of a Super Hornet onto the wall so they could have a drawing contest. I finally caved and let them, and they want you to be the judge. And once again, you'll have eighteen individual letters to read. Nineteen if you include the one I put in the box.

On that note, I'm going to take a bath and snuggle up in bed. And you can't blame a girl for looking at that photo again.

Yours Truly,

Your favorite pen pal

Now this was the kind of thing he wanted in his inbox, not questions about missing water bottles. Bradley hit reply immediately, happy that you hadn't even mentioned his scars. You thought he was handsome in the close up picture? He always figured he was okay enough looking that his height and build made women say he was attractive. But you actually called him handsome. He started typing back to you, already feeling so much better.

--------------------------

After resting all weekend, you were definitely feeling better. You loved your students, but sometimes dealing with their parents was more than you bargained for. Adults were often worse than kids when it came to complaining and exercising patience. All of the conferences from last week were a thing of the past now, but you still felt a little bad for taking so long to write back to Bradley. Especially after he sent you that photo.

Maybe you felt like you had to reel it in a little bit. What was the most that was going to happen? He'd agree to meet you during his short leave in San Diego? Maybe you'd go out on a date? It would probably be the best date of your life. It might even turn out to be the best night of your life. And then he'd leave for another station with the Navy, or maybe he'd return back home, leaving you feeling even lonelier than you did before you inadvertently mailed him that first box.

It was a good thing you had your students to take your mind off things on Monday morning.

"Are we going to talk about aviation now or after lunch?" Violet asked as she unpacked her pencil box.

You took a deep breath and said, "We're actually going to start a unit on Natural History today." Eighteen pairs of eyes stared at you like you'd completely lost your mind. "It'll be great!"

Oliver's hand rocketed into the air. "Does Lieutenant Bradley also know stuff about Natural History? Is that what we're going to write to him about now?"

Great. Your students were just as attached as you were. "Well since our aviation unit is going to be tapering off, we probably won't need to be writing to him as much now."

"What?" gasped Jayden.

"No way," complained Nia.

After that, you tried to move along with your lesson plans, but the entire class just sat there quietly, barely engaged with what you were saying. And perhaps part of it was your fault, because you didn't really feel like teaching this after all. By the time lunch and recess arrived, you felt defeated. You sat quietly at your desk in your empty classroom while your kids played outside, and you ate your lunch while you checked your phone. Bradley had written back an hour ago. Even if you wanted to wait until later to read it, you wouldn't have been able to.

Hey, Gorgeous,

That note from you made my day. I can't wait for the new letters from the kids to arrive so I can spend my evenings writing back instead of absolutely living in the gym right. You want me to judge a drawing contest? Bring it on. I'm so ready.

I'll tell you how old I am. I wasn't expecting to be so nervous about it, though. I'm thirty-six. You definitely look younger than that. I know it's never appropriate to ask a woman how old she is, so maybe you'll offer that number up without me asking? And maybe you'll tell me that I'm still within the age range of men you let email you regularly? Please?

Not gonna lie, taking a hot bath sounds amazing right now. And snuggling up in something bigger than an extra long twin bed would be heavenly. And thinking about you doing either of those things is enough to get me through the week with a smile on my face. Maybe even through the rest of the month. Maybe even to the point where I'm in San Diego. You'd look adorable snuggled up in your bed. But then again, when aren't you completely Gorgeous?

I'll be waiting for more air mail and another email.

Yours Truly,

Bradley Bradshaw

"Damn it," you groaned, melting back into your desk chair and shoving a cracker into your mouth. Even if meeting him was going to be a one-off, you still wanted to do this. You still wanted to write back to him and flirt and listen to his voice in the video he sent for your class with Marty the mechanic. You wanted to think about him working out on the aircraft carrier. You still wanted him to call you Gorgeous. You'd write back tonight.

-----------------------

Bradley was taking another video and some more photos in the shop with Marty for your class when one of the admirals stopped by. He jumped to attention and addressed him. "Sir, what can I do for you?"

"Lieutenant Bradshaw, you haven't put in for a phone call. Would you like to?"

Bradley just blinked at him for a few seconds. "I don't really have anyone to call, Sir." But that wasn't completely true. He'd never actually asked you about it, but he wouldn't mind calling your number. Which he didn't even have.

The admiral nodded and said, "Just giving first dibs to my high rankers who haven't made a call home yet. Otherwise you're dismissed, Lieutenant."

As soon as he started to walk away, Bradley found himself following along. "Actually, Sir, I may have changed my mind."

If he was already thinking about Thai food and a picnic on the beach for a first date, he might as well just ask you for your number now. As long as you didn't tell him his age was an issue. As long as you seemed keen on the idea of him calling. So he put his name down on the list, and then he started to sweat. He finished up with Marty, and he headed for the lounge.

When he logged in, he braced himself for another note from Vanessa like he always did now, but the only new item he saw was from you. He decided right then that if the vibes still felt right, he'd ask for permission to call you. And yeah, the vibes were feeling pretty fucking good.

As soon as he opened the email, the attached photo at the bottom pulled his gaze in like a beacon. You were in bed, mostly under the covers, and the thin straps of some sort of tank top were the only thing preventing him from having a completely unobstructed view of both of your shoulders. Your skin looked impossibly soft, too perfect for him to touch with his rough hands, and your expression was playful and maybe a little nervous. He could see the soft swell of your breasts before the blankets enveloped your body in the most comfortable looking cocoon. He wanted to join you there in the worst way, and keep you warm enough that you wouldn't even need that blanket.

His heart was pounding as he started to read your note.

Bradley,

You know, it's funny you should mention that, because my currently inactive dating app profile says I'm interested in men who are between 30 and 40 years old. So you sound kind of perfect to me. And not that you asked or anything, but I turned 30 earlier this year. I hope that's within the age range of women that you let email you regularly.

I'm writing this from my bed. I have attached a photo. I'm not wearing any makeup, and I'm all snuggled in for the night, and of course I'm thinking about you. Whether it's a good idea or not, I find myself frequently thinking about you.

Your favorite pen pal

He scrolled back to the photo and sighed. Oh, he knew it was a good idea. Maybe you just needed a little bit more convincing, but it was definitely a great idea. That first date was looking better and better in his mind. He wished he could give you an estimate on when he'd be home so the two of you could start planning it. Bradley's stomach was growling for dinner as he pried his eyes away from your photo long enough to type out a message.

Hey, Gorgeous,

You're the only woman I'm going to let email me regularly. And I was right. You do look adorable snuggled up in your bed. That photo is going to keep me up at night wondering how cute you'd look in mine...

It looks like I'll have the opportunity to make a phone call soon, and I'd love to hear your voice. If you want to talk. I can't guarantee I won't sound like an idiot, tripping over my words the whole time, but hey, a guy can dream. Will you let me have your phone number?

Yours Truly,

Bradley

And now, once again, he would wait for you to respond, hoping his luck wasn't about to run out.

------------------------

A phone call! She him your number immediately, Gorgeous! There are some things you need to hear him say in that raspy, sexy voice! Thank you @beyondthesefourwalls

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ellecdc · 7 hours

Note

hi!! i saw that you had your request open and i was thinking maybe poly! marauders + lily taking out (or asking) reader on a first date? i think it would be cute.

i read your last fic on them and i loved how you wrote for them! also i just want to say i love your writing!!

poor shy reader - thoughts and prayers fr

marauders + lily x shy!reader who go on a date

CW: continuation from this fic, fem!reader is in Hufflepuff, some nerves/anxiety, fluff

You’ve made a mistake.

You’ve made a mistake and think it might be too late to do anything.

“Are you almost ready? The Gryffindor’s bullied a first year into letting them into the common room and now they’re downstairs waiting for you.” One of your roommates advised you in a bored tone as she moved to sit on her bed.

You’ve made a mistake.

“Can you tell them I’m poorly or something?” You begged; tone inlaid with a shrill quality you tried to clear away. “I can’t do this.”

She looked at you like you had grown three heads. “What? You can’t go on a date with four of the hottest people in our year? Get a grip.”

“Please.” You tried again.

“I’m not a bloody owl, L/N.” She spat as she opened up a magazine, effectively shutting you out.

You stared at yourself in the mirror again; the fourth outfit you tried on for your date with the four Gryffindor’s you’d stupidly agreed to while still sat in Remus’ lap at the Gryffindor party where you’d actually sodding kissed Lily Evans.

You’ve made a mistake.

“Hey gorgeous.” You heard at your dorm room door, causing your room mate to groan dramatically as she fell backwards on her bed.

Lily’s auburn eyebrows furrowed at her before her eyes flit back to you; any tension immediately melting into a look far too soft to be for you. “Are you ready to go?”

No.

You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time; you were about to be escorted to Hogsmeade by the most beautiful people to grace the halls of Hogwarts arguably ever and you couldn’t help but feel entirely too plain.

Lily breathed out a chuckled through her nose and moved to stand behind you, looking at your reflection in the mirror as she moved a lock of your hair behind your shoulder. “As much as I too would love to sit here and admire your reflection, I’m afraid it’s not wise to leave the boys alone unattended for too long.” She murmured as she pressed a kiss to your cheek.

They were going to be the death of you.

As if punctuating the end of Lily’s sentence and your thoughts, you heard a faint popping sound from the common room and the sound of chuckling.

“We ought to go.” Lily said, casually (for her…not for you) taking your hand and all but dragging you out of your room.

When you got downstairs, it was to the sight of first year Hufflepuffs glaring as menacingly as first year Hufflepuffs could as they all marched past the Marauders.

“What did you boys do now?” Lily chided playfully as they all turned to see you.

Their mischievous smiles quickly turned soft and sweet as they took you in.

“Oh my gods!” James exclaimed as he stepped towards the two of you. “My sweet Lily flower, where did you find this angel?”

Your gaze dropped immediately to your feet as Lily - the traitor - moved away from your side to stand near Remus.

“I’d ask if it hurt when you fell from heaven but, I don’t see a single imperfection, Gorgeous.” Sirius continued.

You huffed and crossed your arms as you looked across the room to see the first years still glaring at the group of you as they shed their - quite ashey - robes.

“Erm, why are the first years shaking ash off their robes?” You asked cautiously.

As if they had only just remembered that they’d been causing mischief a mere few moments ago, James and Sirius stepped into action.

“Oh right!” James said with an awkward laugh. “We, uhm, we should get going.”

And before you could ask any follow up questions (or ask to reschedule, perhaps), you had Sirius on one of your arms and James on the other and were being ushered from the Hufflepuff common room.

Helga help me.

The other four did most of the talking on your walk to Hogsmeade, which you were eternally grateful for. But you were now standing in line at Zonko’s - to which the boys insisted they go and Lily had left it up to you and…well…have you seen those boys? How were you expected to say no? - and you felt like every other student’s eyes were on you.

What is she doing with them? You could imagine them snickering to each other.

Think this is one of their pranks? Their friends would respond.

Evans usually isn’t the type but… it could be funny to watch anyhow.

Your body was itchy and your skin felt hot; you needed to get out of the store.

“Hey.” James murmured quietly, resting his chin on your shoulder as his body created a barrier between you and the other patrons of the store; strong arms wrapping protectively around your front as the other three pretended not to notice. “I think we lost you there for a second; you okay?”

You nodded, not quite trusting your voice not to betray your anxiety.

“Do you regret agreeing to come out with us?” He asked quietly; no ire or contempt detected in his voice. He truly was just trying to check in and make sure you were okay.

“No.” You responded firmly, quickly. Clearing your throat and responding again. “No, I don’t.”

You could feel James smile as he pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek. “We’re almost done here and then we can go wherever you want.” He promised; and though that had been the end of the conversation, he stayed glued (what certainly felt like possessively) to your side until you had all exited the joke shop and stood on the cobble stoned roads of Hogsmeade.

“So where do you wanna go, Princess?” Sirius asked as everyone paused to face you in a semi-circle.

For the ground to swallow me up, maybe?

“Erm, I…I’m not sure, I didn’t…really think about it.” You admitted awkwardly, wrapping your arms around your middle as if trying to shield yourself from your dates’ gazes.

Sirius looked like he was going to make a teasing remark when Lily elbowed him.

“Do you like sweets? Why don’t we head to Honeydukes; Moony needs to restock his chocolate stash anyway.” James offered jovially, turning towards the direction of the sweets shop without waiting to see if anyone was following him.

Sirius winked at a blushing Remus as he and Lily followed James and Sirius offered you his hand.

“Come on; I’ll buy you a pack of those sugar quills you like.” He said as he swung your hands between the two of you playfully, slowly following your little group towards the shop.

“How d’you know I like sugar quills?” You asked quietly, earning you a snort from the black-haired boy.

“Do you know Lily’s favourite lolly flavour?”

You felt your cheeks heat but nodded. “Cherry.”

He made a quiet proud sound as he carried on. “And James? What does he like from Honeydukes?”

“Jelly Slugs - particularly the watermelon flavour.”

Sirius hummed in acknowledgement and bumped into you before continuing to swing your arms together. “And mine?” He asked; and if you weren’t mistaken, there was a hint of vulnerability in the notoriously cocky boy's voice.

You smiled up at him at that. “The Peppermint Toads.”

That caused him to beam at you, looking down at your lips before his brows furrowed slightly and he dropped his gaze shyly to his boots.

“And how do you know our favourite sweets?”

You grumbled and went to pull your hand away from him, but he held fast. “Because I’m a creepy tosser.”

He let out an offended scoff at that and pulled you over to him, tickling at your sides in punishment. “You are not a creepy tosser, you little minx!”

He relented his attack on your sides as you fought to catch your breath; staring up into his silver gaze in anticipation - for what? You weren’t sure.

“Is it because, perhaps, you fancy us?” He offered.

You lowered your head to his chest; embarrassed at being known, perceived, caught in your obvious affections for them - notwithstanding the fact that you’d actually accepted an invitation for a date with them which should have tipped them off anyways.

“So,” Sirius continued, resting his chin on top of your head and pulling you in tighter to his chest. “Shouldn’t we know the same of you if we were to fancy you?”

You sucked in a deep breath - definitely not savouring the smell of sandalwood and mint emanating from Sirius’ chest - and pulled away.

“It would have been quite brash of me to assume so many Gryffindor’s could possibly fancy me.” You admitted quietly as you carried on towards the shop where James was waiting rather impatiently as Lily tried to convince him to stand still.

“Then be brash, darling.” Sirius drawled. “‘Cause it’s true.”

“Don’t kill the poor thing before we’ve a chance to spoil her, Pads.” James called as Lily and Remus smiled at you.

“I’m not, I’m not.” Sirius grumbled as he swatted James’ arse and all but forced him into the store.

“Can’t believe you didn’t kiss her.” Lily hissed as they walked ahead of you and Remus.

“I was nervous!” You heard Sirius whisper back.

“Nervous!?” James and Lily bawked; you and Remus sharing a shy, awkward smile as you pretended you couldn’t hear them.

“Come with me.” Remus finally offered, motioning towards the wall of Chocolate Frogs with his head as he took your hand. “We’ll find them later.”

You and Remus walked through the aisles as he told you stories of Sirius, James, and Peter trying each and every one of the sweets (even the silly ones). Apparently, they learned Peter was allergic to earthworms due to an unfortunate selection of Berties Botts Every-Flavour Beans.

“How was that the thing that tipped him off? Did he never try picking one up as a kid?” You asked through a laugh.

“Right? What kid doesn’t spend time making mud pies and catching earthworms? We figured just for that, the sod almost deserved to go anaphylactic.” Remus joked with no real malice.

You approached a stand of sample chocolates that caught Remus’ eye.

“Hm, nutmeg Cauldron Cakes; that looks good.” You commented as you considered the pastries.

Remus’ mouth tipped up in a mischievous smile as he quickly picked up one of the small samples and held it in front of you.

“Open.”

You stared at him dumbly. “I…I’m sorry?”

His smirk only grew as he kept his eyes on your lips. “Open.” He instructed again.

Not willing to stand here with a pastry held in front of your face asking stupid questions any longer, you acquiesced and allowed Remus to feed you the pastry.

He moved, likely slower than necessary, and just as you went to close your mouth, he paused his movements and slowly slid his thumb between your lips, pulling your bottom lip down as he went.

You didn’t realise you’d been standing there in shock until he raised an expectant eyebrow at you, prompting you to chew the treat now sitting idly on your tongue.

“Good girl.”

Merlin’s fucking tits, he was going to make you choke.

Apparently you weren't the only one, if the sound of James’ strangled groan echoing from where he, Sirius, and Lily had been standing and staring at the two of you.

James looked like he couldn’t tell which of you he was most jealous of, Sirius stood staring with his eyebrows up near his hair line and his mouth wide open, and Lily watched with a knowing smirk adorning her face.

“Was it good?” James whispered over to you.

You nodded dumbly, looking up at Remus as if you were somehow asking for his agreement.

“Better let me confirm.” He murmured as he leaned down; one hand cradling the back of your head and the other tilting your chin up to meet his lips, though he stopped just before they connected.

You could feel the gentle puffs of Remus' breath hitting your lips from where your eyes were glued to his mouth. When it became obvious you were at a stalemate, your eyes flitted up to meet him.

His eyes were on yours as they danced with a mixture of mischief and questions.

Questions.

...“Is it okay if she kisses you, pretty girl?”...

And you weren’t a Gryffindor; you weren’t brave or bold, nor were you daring. But dammit, you were a Hufflepuff; you had a propensity for hard work, and you could do hard things!

So, you let your eyes fall back to Remus’ lips before you closed the distance between you two.

You felt him smile into the kiss before he deepened it, finally pulling away with a pleased hum though he kept his hands on either side of your face.

“She wasn’t lying, Prongs; it was good.” He called over, gaze never leaving your face.

You heard what you could only imagine was Sirius’ boot stomping petulantly from his place as Lily barked a laugh at him. “I was this close to being the second one to kiss her!”

You dropped your head into Remus’ chest only for him to chuckle as he wrapped his arms around you.

“Better luck next time, Pads.” He taunted.

You officially knew your suspicions were correct: the Gryffindor’s really were trying to kill you.

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andersonlore · 2 days

Note

high sex with dina…. high sex with dina……

kiss of heaven | dina

tags: eighteen+, sexual content, cannabis sex, oral (dina!r), face sitting, , dub-con (both reader and dina are high).

an. here's my first fic of dina! it's not perfect by any means by i kinda like it?? i hope you enjoy it as well.

there’s something special about it. firsts always are. the adrenaline pumping through your veins, the serotonin getting sent through your head when someone new kisses you for the first time, the very beginnings of an orgasm never been given by them, the shivers traveling up your spine with a promise of something more. it’s all so inviting your doe-eyed heart welcomes it with open arms.

but this isn’t the case.

dina sitting on your lap the entire night, taking hit after hit, the both of you lost in the feeling of what could’ve been all night. now, the both of you are too far lost in the lust of weed, all you can think about is fucking her. she’s been grinding back into you all night, as if it’s not torturing you to no end. you’re sure you’ve soaked yourself through and it would be embarrassing. possibly. desperately, you crave her more than anyone, you just need to be satiated. or sedated if she turns you down.

you’ve both been here before, years ago, but it feels just as it’s always been. somehow, you knew this would be your fate tonight. tongue tied with the woman you’ve never been able to get over. she comes into your life like nothing has changed. you let her, it makes you feel like a love struck idiot all over again.

well, tonight. you’re more high strung than anything. the both of you are.

the white of your eyes populated by red little lines, hooded as you have her pinned to the wooden door of a vacant room. all you have is a simple bra concealing your from her, delicate panties accentuating her divine hips. soft skin to the touch as you rub her hip bone with the pad of your thumb, drawing goosebumps in your wake.

you can’t help but look at her perfectly sculpted breast, soft stomach, the collarbones you crave to sink your teeth into. it’s what you dreamed of. even if inebriation took over you both, if you got to have her? it didn’t really matter at all. not really.

locking the door, you’re pulling her towards the bed as you take a seat in the middle as she stands there for you. “take them off.” you command, gesturing with a tilt of your head. she slips them off, not so gracefully, tripping as she does so. she warns you with her warm eyes to not utter a fucking word.

but you can’t help the small giggle you try to stifle. it’s impossible to conceal.

“you sure you want to test me?” she pushes, raising her bold eyebrows at you. intentionally, you snap your bra off before saying “no ma’am. wouldn’t dream of disappointing you.” instantly, the power becomes hers. as if it was ever anything different. a silent hope, wanting to have it for once, but with her? you crumble.

her beautifully dark hair is a mess, from your endless pulling. “can you, um—” she raises her expressive brows indicating for you to give in and tell her. you try your best, but you’re so distracted by her beauty, the cannabis taking over as you’re impossibly wet, drooling over having your dream girl back. even if it’s for a short time, she’s here.

“i want you to sit on my face, tonight. please?” she stalks you like her prey, climbing up your body before resting at your hips, before leaning down and whispering in your ear, “hm, finally seems like someone learned their manners.” the soft chuckle cured you of the last time before she wastes no more time. not a fucking second.

it’s all so quick. happening in a flash of your eyes, maybe it’s the weed and maybe it’s just her. the instant sigh released from her lips makes your thighs clench. you’re thankful she is facing you or else she’d make you split them apart. you know she would.

it’s been too long since you’ve had her. your tongue licking a bold strip from her clit, sliding down her labia until lightly dipping into her hold before traveling back up her pearl of pleasure. you’re missing the way her head is being thrown back with your eyes shut as you suckle on your favorite meal. being deprived of the sweet taste of her cunt for so long, you eat it up as if you’ve been starved.

“s’good baby, fuck. forgot how good your mo—” you spit dramatically on her cunt, smothering your spit on her pussy with your thumb, applying light pressure on her clit. “yeah , you should have never forgotten, baby. i always take care of you, don’t i?” slapping her supple ass with your free hand.

dina sinks down the extra weight she’d been holding, suffocating you with her slick. you open your eyes for a moment to take her in, only to find she’s looking right back. “hi angel” she whispers, making you giggle softly.

desperately, you’re trying to recall the last time she’s been this light hearted but you can’t. is it possible she’s changed? fuck, the possibility of new beginning is sent throughout your cunt. the idea only latches onto your brain for a moment before dina’s moaning again, rolling her hips deliciously, fucking your face and looking gorgeous doing it.

“is this what you want, huh? fuck…need to cum so fucking badly.” she moves her hips quickly, lost in the way you’re fucking the shit of her. skilled tongue giving her your best, hoping she’ll paint yours in return. she knows she never would’ve succumbed so easily if it wasn’t for the cannabis. dina, always one to savor. not go through the motions so quickly, but now she doesn’t really give a shit. all she craves is the high she knows you can offer.

fully focusing on her clit, you suck the pearl into your mouth, flicking your tongue over, over, and over. dina’s delicious thighs began to shake. irrevocably so. it’s her tell. right before she cums, each and every time, they shake. high pitched moans escape as she tries to regain composure but it’s useless. she’s far gone and you’re more than happy to send her tumbling over the edge.

“jus’ let go baby, yeah? just me ‘nd you. cum for me mommy? please?” you pause before saying what you know will send her over the edge. “c’mon, making a fucking mess all over my face. i can’t take it, babygirl. promise.”

#guys....i dont think i can write cute little blurbs anymore #actually crying about it #dina nolastname #dina woodward #dina x reader #dina x female reader #dina smut #dina nolastname x reader #dina woodward x reader #dina woodward smut #tlou x reader #dina x masc reader

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shewrites02 · 2 days

Text

Forgive Me, if I break you | Zoro x Reader | Pt. III

Part II

Trigger warnings: Domestic assault, verbal abuse , physical abuse, graphic depictions of violence. THIS FIC CONTAINS DARK CONTENT ! MINORS DNI

*THERE IS A GRAPHIC DEPECTION OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE THE SCENE BEGINNING AND END ARE MARKED WITH THREE ASTERISKS (***) *

A/n: I know it has taken me forever and a day to finish this part, but all of you have been so encouraging in spite of that. I hope that this chapter is worth the wait!

Request: Open

Word count: 8.4k

Leave a comment if you enjoy :)

You twirl in the boutique's mirror. The owner was gracious enough to close, so you and your friends can shop in private. Apparently the villagers have become quite fond of the pirates' during their stay. It is difficult to walk the streets without them being recognized or stopped. It seems the cheerfulness of Strawhats is as infectious to your people as it is to you.

"You really don't like it?" Robin asks, meeting your eyes in the mirror after looking you over.

She stands behind you, a little off to the left meeting your reflection’s gaze. Bashfully, you shake your head. You drag your hands down the pink fabric. This is the fourth dress you have tried on- all of them beautiful- but you have yet to find a dress that makes you feel pretty while sitting in all your ugly emotions.

"I think you look hot! but- I said that about the other three dresses." Nami quips.

"What don't you like, y/n?"

Robin's voice is soft, patient, her smile unwavering. You feel bad when you can't produce a truthful answer. 'It's me that's ugly, not the dresses' is not a sentiment to be spewed so recklessly. When you are unable to produce a satisfactory response, you shrug, feigning ignorance.

"Maybe the color?" You question. The pink feels unfitting- the color too loud for how you bleak you feel. The occasion feels more kin to a funeral than an elaborate celebration.

Robin nods, taking in the note. She flashes you a wide smile before dragging her hands up and down your arms in comfort. She implores your trust before grabbing Nami, the two of them head to the dress racks.

When Robin returns she waves you back into the closeted dressing room. She is insistent on forcing you to get dressed with your eyes closed, saying the reveal will be so much better blind. Nami shouts her agreements through the door. Willing to try anything at this point, you agree.

Robin's fingers are laced in yours as she guides you back to the mirror. After planting you dead center , she instructs you to open your eyes . They widen immediately at the sight.

The velvet fabric runs down to the floor, a high slit on your right leg. The corset is adorned with flashy embellishments, and the color- emerald green, seems a lot more fitting for the occasion.

It had been a long while since the sight of yourself in a mirror made your gasp in a way that didn't sting your heart. You couldn't be more thankful for the silly idea Nami and Robin suggested. The two squeal at what they hope is your pleased reaction.

"We think the swordsman will like it too." Robin teases in a hushed whisper. Zoro enters the room soon after, surely of no coincidence.

"And that's our que." Nami announces as the pair start their descent out the room.

Zoro immediately stops at the entryway once he sees your reflection in the mirror. his mouth is slightly agape, before morphing into a toothy grin. His crew-mate's voices seem to draw his attention back, forcing his feet.

"This is the fifth dress y/n has tried on today. She is still on the fence about it. " Robin instigates.

"Why don't you tell her what you think Zoro?"

And with that the two are gone. The room is quiet, and for a brief moment the two of you just stare. No anger. No sadness. Just a moment where the two of you could cherish being together, that you are finally alone. A moment where Zoro can just be the swordsman, and you- a damsel on the beach.

"Can I touch you?" Zoro asks. His voice is hushed and fragile. Already broken as if preparing in advance for your rejection. The stoic swordsman, the pirate who was more used to taking what he wanted than asking for permission, what had you done to him?

You nod solemnly. Thought the days of pleasantries and cautionary asks were long behind you and the Pirate. Hearing him revert back so quickly, so readily after your repeated rejections- It's disheartening. Zoro is wrapping his arms around your waist, before you have the opportunity to dissect the thought thoroughly. He plants a kiss on your temple, then your cheek before resting his chin on your shoulder. He meets your eyes in the mirror, grin still on his face. Your hand finds his cheeks caressing him lightly.

You had missed being able to bask in the eye of the swordsman so freely. To feel the warmth of his love for you in his stare. The pirate looks at you as if you are truly the most amazing thing he's ever seen. The same wonder and awe he has when tending meticulously to his swords.

"You like it?" You ask, allowing yourself to relax into his hold. Though you know you shouldn't, It is impossible not to indulge when there is swiftly coming a time you'll never feel his touch again.

"I like it. I think you look gorgeous... " He kisses your cheek once more.

The butterflies wake in your stomach. Violently swarming as though this is the first compliment you have ever gotten from the swordsman. They're quickly drowned in your guilt, in your knowing that this- whatever it is the two of you are doing- is only going to destroy the pirate in the end.

"Do you like it?" He asks as if sensing your apprehension. You shrug in response.

"It's fine. As long as you like it."

Zoro's brow raises to his forehead. His expressionless face shows that he is unimpressed with your attempt to dismiss your feelings in favor of his.

"What was wrong with the other dresses?" He pivots.

You swallow the lie that tries to climb its way out your throat. Tired of the rancid aftertaste it always left in your mouth after its departure. Part of you is astonished at how reflexive it was, the lie so ready to fly past your lips. The shock quickly turns to grief.

This is a part of yourself you could openly give to the swordsman. A part of you that only had his fingerprints indented into it. A part of you that Lee would never have claim too. This was a truth you could openly and honestly give him. Are you not obligated to?

"Nothing." You confess taking in a shaky breath. There's a frailness to your voice that houses all the tears wanting to swell in your eyes. "I'm too sad to feel pretty Zoro. To sit here playing dress up when our time is ticking away with each dress I put on ... How do I pick out the perfect dress to say goodbye to you?"

"We aren't saying goodbye." Zoro states the words plainly, as if you are supposed to know already.

You turn your head to face him. The eye contact made in the mirror is no longer sufficient enough for the conversation. You need to see if his collected demeanor shifts once your pain-staked eyes stare back at him. It does not. The pirate looks at you deadpanned, in search of an explanation.

"W-what do you mean?"

"I told you , I'm not leaving until you tell me what's happening."

The furrow of your brows has deepened into a full frown. You stare back at Zoro with your mouth wide searching for your next words. Can only describe this static in your brain as disbelief. What is he talking about? Stay? Here?

"Zoro. The sunny is leaving here in two days. Your crew has spent all morning preparing for their departure ... "

He nods, confirming your words are true.

"Zoro-"

"I'm not leaving."

It's as though your senses come flushing back all at once. Jolting your body to break free of the pirate's hold. Forcing his arms away as you create distance.

"You can't stay ... not for me." You want your proclamation to come out strong, demanding, but you only sound broken. Making a desperate plea.

"I'd really love to see you make me leave." He lets out a boisterous laugh. "I bet your husband would love that, uh? Me out the way."

Zoro reaches his hand out to you, he is still smiling. As though he is not saying he is going to abandon his crew mates for you. Give up his dreams for you. All to what- watch you play house with another man? A relationship filled with fleeting touches , and stolen moments. How is that fair to him?

"Zo-"

"I know you miss me." His voice has dropped in tone and volume. He drops his hand once you don't return the gesture. The smile previously seared onto his face is gone.

"I know when he touches you, you're wishing it's me. Every smile, every laugh, every touch , every kiss it's me in the back of your mind. All the affection you give to him- it's mine ... I know he can't make you feel as good as I can. "

You open your mouth to speak but no words come out. Nothing comes to mind in the midst of the overwhelming whirlwind of your emotions. You don't- can't- lie to the swordsman, tell him that none of it is true. But how can you admit the truth when you know there is no escape, no way out.

You could tell Zoro you loved him a million times, it is not going to change this absolute fact: you are not going anywhere.

"It doesn't matter. What I want doesn't matter." You mutter.

"Your feelings- they don't matter?!" The swordsman snarls in response . "Don't fucking say that."

There's a stab to your heart, his words cutting you just as deeply as if he put a sword through your chest. You could not for the life of you understand the concern Zoro had for your emotions when you are undoubtedly breaking his heart more with each passing day.

"Please Zoro- don't stay behind for me. Go."

"Why don't you trust me?" The swordsman asks. His voice so hushed it threatens not to make it to your ear.

The sword in your heart twists in a devilish way. Is this what Zoro has deduced? That your lack of openness could only be a fault of his own. That he has not loved you enough , made you feel safe enough. Yet another reminder of why you are so undeserving of him. Though he doesn't meet you , you still search his gaze . Look at the truth in his expression to see that this is truly what Zoro believed . You didn't trust him.

"It's not you I don't trust Zo...."

This time the pirate doesn't ask. He closes the gap between the two of you in two strides, taking your hands in his.

"Then why won't you tell me what's going on? Why won't you let me help you?" Zoro asks.

Your eyes closed at his inquiries. Trust. You have already given every bit of excess you had to the swordsman on the beach. You aren't sure you have anymore to spare now that you are home. Wished it was that simple. Simple enough to only have to make a decision and stick to it. To have only your heart to follow, but that is not a luxury of yours.

"You can't save me Zo..."

His face drops. The squeeze he has on your hands tightens some.

"I can. Ask me to. Please ..."

The room falls silent. It is now you who is averting eye contact from the pirate.

" ... Do you think I'm not strong enough?"

You sat beside Zoro digging your hands in and out of the sand despite the fact you hated the feeling. It was something to do while watching him meticulously care for his swords. In the time the two of you had spent on the beach, you had watched Zoro tend to his swords more times than you had seen him do almost anything else.

"Can I touch your swords?"

Your words were meant for the first mate, but they seemed to grasp the attention of the whole Strawhat crew. They tried to pretend, act as if the breakfast Sanji's was serving was far more interesting than the conversation the two of you were having. This did not stop his crewmates from taking turns borrowing their eyes into the side of his skull. If you hadn't known any better you'd even swore they were holding their breaths in anticipation of the swordsman's response.

The tension in the air gave way that you may have made a mistake. That perhaps that was not a question allowed amongst this crew. You looked toward Zoro, bracing yourself for the harsh rejection. Instead he removed the three swords he had just placed on his hip and laid them out on the sand in front of you.

There was an audible gasp that fell from his crewmates. Zoro quickly narrowed his eyes toward their direction, the pirates sitting on the wooden table Franky had conjured up around the fire. His crewmates' eyes scatter in different directions faking obliviousness. Usopp even started to whistle to further prove his distraction. Zoro rolled his eyes before facing toward his swords.

"This one is Enma, Sandai Kitetsu, and Wado Ichimonji."

Zoro goes from top to bottom, pointing out each sword as he names it. Lightly, he pushes the first two away, so they are out of your arms’ reach. Leaving only Wado Ichimonji within your grasp.

"What- those two your favorite? That why I can't touch them." You teased.

"Not that." He gave you a playful laugh in response. That familiar cocky smile on his lips. "These two will literally kill you if you touch them."

"Oh-"

"This one is my favorite." He pulled Wado close so it was parallel to the knees of your criss-crossed legs. Before Zoro picked up his sword he forced your hands palm side up, arms out, rested against your thighs. Once he was satisfied with your posture he inched close to you smushing his thigh against yours then placed the sword in your hands.

"Why is this one your favorite?"

You go to move your hand from beneath the sword to foolishly trace the edge of the blade, but Zoro grabs your wrist before you have the opportunity. Quickly instructing you to be still. Griped that he had your hands placed like that for a reason.

"I don't want you to cut yourself." He scolded. Feeling like a small child, a 'sorry' clumsily fell from your lips in response. Zoro continued to answer your question.

"... A friend gave it to me."

This time you got the sense that you weren't to inquire any further about this. You wouldn't dare push the boundaries of the pirate. Instead you shifted the conversation.

"Was I not supposed to ask about your swords? ... your crewmates seemed kind of surprised."

"It's sort of a rule on the ship, that no one can touch my swords. " The swordsman's hand found the nape of his neck rubbing nervously. You laughed at his proclamation. His crewmate of years hadn't touched his swords, yet there he was placing his favorite blade in your hands. Unsure of what you had done to earn the pirate's trust, you were grateful all the same.

"So two swords that can kill you ... you must be like really strong?" you ask.

"Yeah, you could say that..." The swordsman chuckled. There's amusement filled in his expression as he takes the sword from your grasp so he could return them to their home. "You've really never heard of the Strawhat pirates?"

You shook your head 'no'. Had no intention of explaining to the swordsman that Lee had controlled most of the entertainment you had access to, and the news was hardly something he viewed as a concern of yours.

"I do keep hearing Luffy say he is going to be the pirate king a lot!" You tried to defend, hoping the information was relevant. the green haired pirate let out another laugh, nodding in agreement.

" 'nd I'm going to be the strongest swordsman in the world one day."

There was no uncertainty in his voice. No unsureness of weather it would be. The swordsman spoke his declaration as if it were a prophecy.

"How can you be so sure?"

"... Because I made a promise."

You forgot what the ballroom looked like filled with smiling faces, a sight lost after the death of your father. The warmth you feel at the anticipation is quickly replaced with an ice cold chill once you remember what these balls entail. Acting. You fix your smile, make it wider. As genuine as you could fake. Run your hands along your dress to smooth the folds. Make sure you are presentable- perfect like the chief expects.

Lee extends his hand as you approach the bottom of the steps. He does not wear a smile, but his eyes don't hold the malice you've become accustomed to searching for. He wordlessly looks you over with your hand in his. When he begins to lead you to the entrance of the ballroom you assume your appearance satisfies him.

There's an announcement as the two of you enter.

"Presenting Chief Misatori , and his wife".

The villagers look upon the two of you with such... mixed reactions. Some scold, probably wondering what you could possibly see in such an evil man. Probably trying to conjure up ways you cope with all his cruel actions. Others are more welcoming, the pain and grief your husband has put them through carved into their smile lines. Despite which side they lay, all the villagers have their eyes on you. Watching. Waiting for any crack in your façade.

Once you two reach your table at the front of the room, the announcer introduces the Strawhats next. The reception they receive is blazing compared to you and your husband. The room fills with cheers and whistles. Toothy smiles from all patrons. The pirate crew seems to enjoy the attention, maybe not welcoming of it, but definitely not shying away.

It seems Luffy couldn't be bothered to change out of his cut off denim for the formal event. Throwing on a button up shirt as compensation for his otherwise casual dress. You suspect that was Nami's idea. The other Strawhats are dressed more appropriately, in spite of their captain's relaxed attire. Although all look stunning, your eyes fall on Zoro, dressed in an all black 3 piece suit.

This is the first time you've seen the pirate in anything that wasn't a kimono or plain black shirt. The sight is a Divine gift. You would be watering at the mouth had you not been so aware of your surroundings. The swordsman's eyes meet yours the closer he gets. He flashes you a small smirk darting his eye down to his chest then back to you.

His tie and pocket square are velvet, the same emerald green of your dress. He has a gold sun pinned to his left lapel, its center adorned with an emerald stone strikingly similar to the stones on your corset. Shock is not a strong enough word to describe how you feel when your eyes return to his.

The emotions in you swirl so violently you feel like you're going to puke. Elation. Dread. Guilt. The three battle for space in your chest. The smirk on his face turns into a crooked smile at your eyes going slightly wide. If you didn't know any better you might even say he lets out a laugh at your surprise. When the group finally makes it to the shared round table, Zoro does not hesitate to take a seat next to you. Doesn't shy away from meeting Lee's disgruntled glance as he takes his seat.

"You look amazing love, a true sight for sore eyes." Sanji compliments.

It deepens the scowl already on Lee's face, but Sanji does not bother to acknowledge him. He gleams at you adoringly with a wide grin. You can only smile in response, softly thanking the cook. You wouldn't dare throw more ammunition onto the fire already fuming in your husband.

"She does look beautiful, doesn't she?" Lee gloats.

He has dropped the scowl, in an attempt to morph his features into something more inviting. He draws you in to meet his lips for a kiss. Usually Lee isn't one for public displays of affection, but in the face of the Strawhat men, he seems more than happy to make an exception . The chief has always been one to flaunt his spoils of war.

Zoro pinches your thigh. Not too hard, but enough to draw a reaction from you. It forces you to jump in surprise, drawing away from your husband. The puzzled look on Lee's face begins to look more of anger the longer his eyes linger on you awaiting an explanation.

"I'm sorry honey. I thought I felt something run across my foot, it just startled me." You caress his cheek to try to ease the tension. The sound of Zoro snickering whispers behind you.

The further into the night it gets the more lively the party has gotten. Alcohol has started to flow, live music Blares while patrons fill the dance floor. Most of the Strawhats have scattered.

Luffy in search of meat, or adventure. Don't remember which one he was singing about as he drug Usopp along. Chopper followed gleefully with hopes to join the fun. The cook has made himself busy talking to the maid from before, her appearance almost night and day in the evening gown. The others are difficult to track down, each with their own agendas for the night. The only ones sitting and enjoying the music with you are Zoro and Robin.

Lee has abandoned you at the table to entertain the men of his council, leaving you with the command to stay here. The chief never allowed you within ten feet of the dignitaries. Always said you were 'sure to say something stupid'. 'Only going to embarrass him and yourself'. So worried you would not be perfect enough for them, in spite of the fact that these men have known you since childhood. But you do not complain. Would much rather sit at the table swaying to the music than smile in the faces of your husband's subordinates anyway. Plus, the addition of company has made the experience that much more enjoyable.

"You want to dance?" The swordsman whispers.

"Roronoa , I wouldn't have taken you to be a dancer." You jest in return.

"I'm not. You haven't sat still since the music started. If you want to dance, I'll dance with you."

Your cheeks flush at his testament, at the mere thought of Zoro willing to wade through his own discomfort for you. It aches that you cannot do the same. That instead of exclaiming a resounding 'yes' your eyes fall to your husband on the other side of the room.

"It's okay Zo. Thank you."

Zoro glances back to see where your eyes have fallen. Rolls them in response to seeing Lee. A sigh leaves his lips but he doesn't push any further.

"I'm sure I can buy you guys a few minutes." Robin interjects. "I bet the garden is beautiful under the full moon."

Her eyes glance over at the swordsman briefly before returning to her drink. Zoro is already standing, adjusting the way his swords sit on his waist before heading presumably to the garden. You watch his figure shrink as he wades through the people to find the exit. When you return to Robin, she too is on her feet. There is a smile on her face, free of any anxieties.

"I'll distract Lee. Go find the swordsman."

Your heart pounds against your chest with each stride Robin makes towards the chief. Is this happening? Defying your husband so blatantly in the face of the entire kingdom. Your breath quickens as you watch her greet him. Gets shallower with each word that falls from the archeologist's lips. It's completely snatched from your throat once her fingers intertwine with his, leading the man out the ballroom with a giddy smile on his face.

You sit dumbfounded looking at the empty chairs that surround your table. There genuinely is nothing but you and the decision you have to make. Disrespect your husband to gallivant under the stars, or- Be the good wife. Behave. Act. Sit and smile while Robin wastes her precious time presumably flirting with your husband who had done little to conceal his crush on her.

Your feet are moving before your brain has an opportunity to justify their movement. All that echoes in your brain is Zoro's voice proclaiming he won't leave. How he is willing to risk his dream for you, and all you have to do is have the courage to leave the table. Once you make it to the garden you don't have the restraint to keep yourself from running in search of Zoro. Looking for any clue of his whereabouts in spite of your heels sinking you into the dirt with each step.

"I'm right here princess."

Your head snaps in the direction of his voice. The swordsman sits at the fountain in the center of the garden. His arms crossed against his chest with his legs outstretched in front of him. There is a full smile on his face as he takes you in, really takes you in.

"You're so fucking pretty... I hope he tells you everyday."

You don't want to discuss the chief. Hadn't escaped his watch to allow him to infiltrate your final moments with Zoro. You rush to the swordsman intertwining your fingers with his, and pull him to his feet or- more accurately, he stands at your request. The music from the ballroom carries into the garden faintly.

"You promised me a dance."

You wrap your arms around Zoro's neck. His hands find your waist. He pulls you close until your chest are flush together. You rest your head on his chest as the two of you sway. There is a comfortable silence falling between the two of you.

"We could do this on the sunny. Brook plays that violin non stop. " Zoro whispers.

Your eyes close as you allow your mind one second to wander. To think about what life on the seas would be like with Zoro. Naps in the crow's nest. Sake on the deck. Morning kisses before breakfast. The swordsman would love you. This you are certain.

"That would've been nice Zo."

"Don't say it like that- like you're never coming back ."

The swordsman's plea has you stopping in place. You take a step back to look up at him with somber eyes.

"What do you think will happen Zoro? ... That your crewmates will leave and my circumstances are going to change? If they don't- will you stay here to watch me be in a relationship with another man?"

"You won't even tell me what your circumstances are!" Zoro rebuttals quickly. Seemingly having no intentions of playing these games of 'what if'. He takes a deep breath in an attempt to gather himself.

"I'm just hoping that you will eventually tell me the truth. Tell me what's going on so we can go back to living our lives together! Is that not what you want?"

"I don't get to make that choice Zoro!" You retort. "I don't get what I want!"

An astonished huff leaves the swordsman's mouth. His lips upturn as he snarls at your words.

"Yes you do! You could decide to let me love you! I've been begging you to let me help and you just keep-"

"Go!" You shout . Unable to withstand the sweet sentiments he spews so fervidly any longer. The shake of pain in his voice growing unbearable to hear. "Leave Zoro! How many times do I have to say you can't stay!"

"How many times do I have to say I am not leaving you?" The pirate responds without missing a beat.

You hate the decision you make next. Cringe at the words before they even leave your lips. Disappointed at how quickly the idea pops into your head.

"You're never going to be the world's strongest swordsman, Zoro. The world's strongest swordsman would never give up their dream to chase after some woman they've only known two months."

The swordsman’s face drops in a way you've never seen before. Worse than when you introduced Lee as your husband. That was betrayal, this-

This was pure agony.

"Why are you trying to hurt me?"

You swallow hard. Shoving down the pained cries that want to shout out the truth. 'To make you hate me.' If that is the only way the swordsman is willing to leave then so be it. You would shatter him again. Tap at the cracks in his already broken heart, until the pieces are on the ground for him to pick up again. If that is what it is going to take.

"I'm telling you the truth Zoro. I know you look down on Lee , but he would never be foolish enough to jeopardize his dreams just for me."

"You saying that makes him a better man than me? That he's the one you're choosing." Zoro seethed. "He doesn't fucking love you- I do!"

"I'm not choosing anyone." You screech desperately.

It has taken some time, but it has finally sunk in. You do not get to leave. To choose. To stray from the path your husband deemed appropriate. You don't get saved. There is nothing the swordsman, or any of the other Strawhat pirates could do to change that.

Zoro nods his head as though he is saying he finally understands. He drags his right hand down his face before letting out a tired sigh.

"You win. You want me gone ... We'll leave tonight."

***

Finally the last of the patrons filed out. A sigh of relief leaves your lips when the castle doors shut. Your performative smile drops at the click of the locks. Air could fill your lungs again. Now that the night has drawn to a close, you wish nothing more than to get out of this dress. Strip down bare so you could cry in the tub. Soothe your heart's ache in privacy for just a little while.

Lee grasps your hand in his to force your attention. He wears a smile. You expect it's rewarding of the good job you've done tonight. He pulls you in close to press his lips against yours.

The kiss is soft, delicate . When you go to withdraw, the chief does not allow you any reprieve. The tender kiss quickly turns forceful. He tangles his hand into your hair so you have nowhere to go.

"You must think I'm a fucking idiot, Honey." Lee mumbles against your lips. He starts pushing you backwards until you are pressed against the iron doors. His free hand wraps around your throat while his lips travel to your ear.

"You love the swordsman..." He whispers. "Do you really think I'm too stupid to notice? "

Goosebumps appear at his words. For a split second everything stops. Your Hearing. Your breath. Your heart. How- how could he know? Sweat beads at your brow as they scrunch in confusion. You try to blink your way out this nightmare as tears start to swell in your eyes. Refuse to accept this as reality.

"No Lee, I only love you. Zor-"

Lee squeezes his fingers tight around your neck. The piercing blow to your windpipe brings your testament to a swift end. You claw violently at his fingers. Attempt fervidly to pry his grip from your neck to no avail.

"Don't say his fucking name ... Not in my house. You and those pirates think you're so clever sneaking around tonight. Did you honestly think I would take your word on some filthy pirate? That I wouldn't have you watched after strictly forbidding you to see him? Darling, surely you aren't that pathetic..."

The sound of Lee's voice drifts in and out along with your consciousness. Your limbs feel heavy, moving lethargically with each thrashing movement. Before your vision fades to black, Lee drops your body to the floor. A loud smack echoes the halls once your skin meets the marble.

For a moment there is only the sound of your hacking. A poor attempt to force your lungs to work. Lee bends at the knees to observe you. Ponder on if this punishment is enough. If you had endured enough pain to assuage his anger.

"Tell me sweetheart..." He reaches out to sweep the hair out of your face. He caresses your check lightly before continuing. "Is the garden you and the swordsman's special place? Uh? Do the two of you sneak off and laugh at the fool you make of me?"

You go to speak, curse that your words would fail you in such a crucial time. Your brain is too light headed and caught off guard to have lies readily available. You avert your gaze away from the chief. Look toward all the staff too afraid of the man's wrath to watch his atrocities' face on, but bear witness all the same.

When you don't respond, Lee stands. That darkness has consumed the totality of his eyes. Your husband -and what little humanity resided left in him- is gone. The chief: Judge, Jury, and Executioner stood before you determining your sentence.

"You want to leave ? Go ! Be with the swordsman!"

The hair on your neck stands at his proclamation. Lee had sneered you with one trap . You would be foolish to allow him to devour you whole in another. You shake your head 'no'. Repent to the man. Implore his forgiveness. The chief stares unmoved. Glowering down at you with a merciless grin.

"I warned you before Honey. There is only one way your leaving."

You push your back further into the doors. Willing them to burst open at the force. Your eyes scatter the area as he approaches. There is nowhere to run. Nothing to grab. You are utterly helpless to the whims of the chief.

Lee fists his hand into your hair, grabbing tightly, then pulls to drag you along the floor. The scream you let out at the sting does not deter him. Neither does your kicking, or clawing at his fingers in hopes of relief. None of it offers any reprieve.

"I don't want to leave. I don't want to go with the swordsman. Please Lee- Let me stay." You wail. Your heels slide against the stone floor foiling your attempts to dig your feet into the ground.

Lee has made it to the bottom of the staircase, and finally in the chaos, you are able to ascertain his plans. This was it, the final straw on the camel's back. The last defiance Lee is willing to forgive. He had finally deemed you useless. Worthless. And was planning to get rid of you in such a manner.

"I tried to teach you sweetheart, but you just won't learn." He scolds

Your body must be weightless the way Lee is so effortlessly dragging you up the steps. Was this really how things were going to end? Had the chief decided himself so deserving of his authority he would rule without the woman who made him monarch in the first place? Your father must be turning in his grave at the sight.

"I'll be good. I promise!" You weep. Your hands are tangled in your hair searching for relief.

The chief lets out an obnoxious laugh. Now that the two of you are at the top of the stairs, it has only gotten easier for the man to drag you along the hardwood floor. The entrance to your bedroom is coming into view. The boom of your heart thumping rings in your ears. Your time is running out.

"Trying to play me like some fucking idiot. I guess you are your fathers daughter after all... "

Fervidly you press white fingertips into the door frame, using all the strength you had to fight against Lee's pull. It is no use. Like a rag doll at the manipulation of her owner you're easily forced into the room.

"I'll have to take care of you, just like I did your father."

"Please ! Please ! Please ! Please -" You beg, pleas barely audible in the midst of your sobs.

Your eyes scatter the room in one last stitch effort to save your life. If this were it, you refused to go quietly. Scissors. They have fallen from the top of your dresser onto the floor in front of the bed. You thank whatever god has taken mercy on you. Whoever decided the chief plans too nefarious to come to fruition.

You snatch the blades as he drags you past the bed. Jab the tool into the chief's feet before withdrawing and jamming it into his thigh. Lee lets out a sharp yelp, before falling to the floor. He curses loudly, grasping his wound. There is no time to revel in victory.

Hastily you rush to your feet, fleeing out the room. You can hear the man shouting out after you, but the mistake is already made. Too deep to fall to your knees and beg forgiveness now.

***

The rain refuses to let up. With each thud of your feet against the wet forest floor, you swear the drops only quicken in pace. The regal gown you wear , or the pieces that remain in tack, are soaked through. Your heels are long discarded in the shuffle. In spite of the adrenaline pumping through your veins, you shudder at the brisk winds.

You push your discomfort aside. No time to think about the weather, when you had to flee as far away from your home as you could. you had gotten away once , surely you could do it again. Had to be able to do it again.

guilt consumes you with each step you plow into the ground. Leaving behind the home your mother raised you in. The land your father thought sacred- just to save yourself. Selfish. That's all you are. Selfish. Pitiful. Failure- Your thoughts flee when you go crashing onto the wet forest ground.

Hurriedly you wipe at your face to see the culprit of your disruption. It is to no avail. The rain has done a remarkable job at distorting your vision. The darkness is its fateful ally. You can barely make out the voices calling to you through the rumbling of the thunder.

"What are you doing out here?"

There's a hand around your arm dragging you up before you are able to grasp your bearings. Fear consumes you too much to focus. Only know that getting caught isn't not an option. You jerk to free your arm, but the hold is too strong.

"Y/n!"

Your panic forces coherence. Your vision finally comes to.

Zoro.

His face is contorted into a grimace as he looks you over. His hand travels up and down your arm as though he could wash the bruises away with the fallen rain. When the wounds remain the pirate pierces his eye into yours.

"What Happened?" He growls.

Your arms wrap your body. As if you could stretch your limbs around you like Strawhat to hide your bruises. Eyes quick to dart away from him. For a second you try to conjure up a palatable explanation. One that would soothe the fire in the pirate's eye. Eradicate the concern from his voice. But there is none.

For the first time in six months you are all out of excuses. All out of ways to justify the pain away. No words to lie reassurance into anyone's hearts.

Your eyes are glued to the floor shielding your face from your audience. From Zoro. Your skin trembles against his fingers. Using his free hand, Zoro wraps his fingers gently around your chin. You wince at his touch. The sting is intense despite his delicate disposition.

Don't want to expose yourself to him any further. The scratches and cuts that covered you were indicator enough of your injuries. The swordsman does not care. He gently presses against your jaw , forcing your head up to see the fingers indented into your neck. The red bands evidence of your skirmish even without your confirmation.

You feel small underneath Zoro's gaze. There's a mix of emotions that flow through his eye. Anger. Relief. Guilt. The only that's lingers is pity. It makes your skin crawl to see it so clearly painted on his face.

"Did he do this to you?" The swordsman barks.

You want to run. You're going to run. Refuse to be subjected to the pitiful glances and stares . It is as if Zoro can read your mind, tightening his grip around your arm the moment your muscles tense beneath him.

"...Yes." The answer is almost lost in the storm.

Zoro releases you. His hand immediately finds Enma's hilt. Wordlessly he turns to walk in the direction of the castle. His crewmates do not speak. Wouldn't dare ask where he was going when the answer is so obvious.

"Please- Zoro! Don't leave me!" You sob, tears mixing into the rainfall that covers your cheeks. Your voice, broken from Lee's abuse, forces your plea to come out as a strained cry. Zoro stops in his tracks to glance your way.

"I know I don't deserve you! I know you're too good for me! I know! But please-"

You can barely make him out as he approaches. The blur from the showers distorts his figure. Can only make out the swordsman sheathing his weapon. In seconds he is within your grasp, drawing you into his chest as his arms wrap around your shoulder.

"Shh- I'm right here."

You curl into his hold, trying to shield yourself from everyone- everything. Can only bawl into the pirates chest. Your legs fail you. Too weak to hold their own. Zoro does not let you fall, holds all your weight against him as you cry.

"He killed him. He killed my father."

There is only the sound of thunder in the air. You have rendered the pirate speechless. This was probably the first time the swordsman has ever not known what to say. How to comfort you. Zoro holds you tighter, closer. Rubs your back in a soothing way.

"... Let's go home." Zoro whispers, kissing the top of your head.

The walk to the sunny is silent. Not even the pirate captain has anything to say. It's hard not to feel on display in the midst of everyone stares. You know your friends do not mean to watch in the way they do. To trail their eyes down your abused body every time they glance your way. Probably just taken aback by your appearance. You look far worse than when you washed ashore on the beach. Still, it makes you want to hide. Strip yourself of your skin to escape their stares.

Zoro glances over at you every few seconds like he must be sure you're still there. That you haven't abandoned his side. Run off to lick your wounds in isolation.

"Here."

The pirate strips out of his suit jacket then wraps it around your shoulders. Although soaked from the rain you appreciate having the cover. For being able to give your arms a break from shielding you. The coolness against your skin actually offers some relief to the pain drenching your body.

Immediately once you board Sunny, Zoro is walking you to the infirmary to have chopper look at you. He does not ask, and you get the impression that the topic isn't up for debate. Chopper does not ask any questions. Doesn't pry about how your injuries came about. Just treats each wound, handling you as delicately as he can.

Zoro holds your hand the entire appointment. lightly rubbing your knuckles with his thumb. You squeeze his fingers tightly at Chopper feeling your neck.

"It's okay princess, you're doing so good. He's almost done. Right chopper?"

"All done." The reindeer backs away hooves up as proof. "I'm going to give you some ice for your neck, leave it on for about twenty minutes."

"And the rest of her bruises?" Zoro asks.

"I don't have any reason to believe there is internal bleeding, but we will keep an eye on your condition the next couple days just to be sure."

Chopper extends out an ice pack for you then goes to rifle through the medication cabinet. Once convinced he has all he needs he turns to hand you two bottles.

"These are for the pain. Take these in the morning " He holds up one bottle, shakes it lightly then picks up the other. "These are for night."

Zoro reaches to take both bottles before you have the chance to.

"Thank you chopper."

Zoro holds your hand the whole way to his quarters. Though you told him when you first boarded the ship you could walk on your own now, he does not let you go. You suspect Zoro is scared of where you'll go if he does.

When the two of you walk into his quarters it is quiet. Only the soft sound of the waves swaying the boat fills the air. You make your way to the bed, flopping lazily on top of the comforter. Your body begs the comfort of a soft mattress after all the harsh treatment. When you look over at Zoro he hasn't moved.

The swordsman's back is against the door as though he is guarding it. Covering the exits so you could not scurry away from him again. His gaze doesn't linger on you, instead he stares out of the singular port hole into the darkness of the night.

The quiet begins to eat away at your consciousness. Usually silence was comfortable between you and the pirate. No words ever needed to be exchanged to feel the comfort of the other person's presence. But now was different-

Now you stood in front of the swordsman with your heart in pieces, just as broken as him. Waiting for him to put the pieces back together like he had done unknowingly so many times before. How could two people, broken the way you two are broken, offer anyone comfort or solace?

"Is this what you didn't want to tell me? ..." Zoro asks.

His voice battles the waves for space in the room. Wins only barely taking its place. You don't say anything. Act as though his question going unanswered, will keep the truth from spilling into the space.

"How long?"

"... Since my father died."

Zoro gives you a curt nod before pushing himself away from the door. Still his eye does not fall on you. Part of you begins to wander if it's intentional. If the sight of your broken body is just too much for the swordsman to bear.

"You can take the bed. I'll wake you up when it's time to take your meds again. Chopper will be just down the hall. If you need me, I'll be in the crow's nest." He begins to ramble.

As your mind reels the pirate starts to rifle through his clothes for a clean shirt. A task you are sure requires exceptional effort in his messy quarters. After the third black tee Zoro finds a clean one and hands it out to you. Only then has your mind caught up enough to clasp his wrist.

"I don't want to sleep alone." You admitted. "Please don't make me sleep another night without you."

Zoro exhales a shaky breath. Like it is taking everything in him to grasp his bearings.

"Okay. " He whispers in response.

The sentiment settles and wrenches your heart. The guilt pains you much more than the bruises ever could. The physical pain would heal. In time the red marks around your throat would fade. The cuts that cover your feet will only be a distant memory. But you will forever have to live with the pain of what you did to the swordsman.

As Zoro climbs into the bed you wonder why he still has so much affection left for you. Why he was offering refuge after the terrible things you said. Think it might have been better had he screamed. Cursed and yelled at the sight of you, opposed to these gentle ministrations. After all, you deserved to feel a fraction of the pain you have put him through.

"I'm so sorry Zoro. I-"

"Go to sleep." He mutters. Lazily wrapping an arm around your waist. "We can talk in the morning."

The swordsman holds you close to his chest. His hold is so tight it slightly stings against your wounds. If you concentrate enough you swear you can feel Zoro's heart thumping violently.

The smell of the sea can almost deceive you into believing you're on the beach. That things are okay. The daydream only crushes your spirits more. Emphasizes how your world is actively crumbling around you.

You wished you had the heart to let it go. To not need reassurance at his expense. But the words are fumbling out your mouth before you can stop them.

"Do you still love me?" You choke out.

There is no strength left to hold back any tears. To swallow the vulnerability before the pirate is able to see it. All that is left is to slice your chest open for the swordsman. Show him all the broken ribs you have endured trying to protect your heart only to have it broken in the end.

"I still love you." He confirms placing a kiss to your temple.

The words bring more anguish than relief. A visceral hurt cascades your body. All you can do is sob. Grasping desperately onto his arm in an attempt to ground yourself.

"I hate him, Zoro. I hate him. I hate him. I hate him. I hate him."

"I'm going to kill him." The pirate announces.

The definiteness in his voice , kin to when he announced he would be the strongest swordsman in the world. You turn in his arms to face him, and this time when you look up at the pirate he is meeting your gaze. The stress of the day so clearly pronounced by the bags under his eyes.

"Zoro you don't hav-"

"Go to sleep." The swordsman reiterates, before you can continue. He sweeps his thumb across your cheek to wipe away your tears, even though more come to replace them. He gives you a soft, weak smile before gently pressing his lips to yours. The feather light touch has you second guessing if you had felt him at all.

"We'll talk in the morning."

—————————————————————————————

A/n: Hey luvbugs! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Comment your favorite quote 👀 or part ! I’d love to know. I think there’s gonna be about two more parts left at the most. Ahhhh can’t believe we’re almost done.

If you would like to be on the taglist , let me know ! I’d love to have you! :)

Tag List: @turtletaubwrites @jinjen @sanzu-clinic @heyauntieeee @honeybuzzzzzz @nothing-but-brass @katiemrty @zorotime @kahelis @vikispike @haitaniwhor3 @starlightanyaaa

#forgive me if i break you #one piece #zoro roronoa #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #zoro roronoa x y/n #zoro roronoa x reader

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siscon-stsg · 1 day

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going to visit your uncles gojo and geto and catching them making out on the couch, and even when you know it's wrong of course they find a way to convince you to join them, brothers must share everything, including their favorite niece<3

(CW: incest, stsg! moments, use of 'princess' and 'baby' and 'good girl', satoru calls reader 'kid' once, is this dub/con cuz reader is not into it at first?, praise kink, suguru being manipulative ofc, oral (f and m receiving), tit play, sugu calls reader a slut once, double penetration, slight spit kink, creampie)

tbh i think a threesome with satosugu would fix me. fuck therapy give me some dick. ~BLOSSOM

UNCLE!TORU who doesn't even realize you're there at first; he's too busy sucking marks and nibbling down suguru's neck, whining at the taste of his skin in his tongue and under his teeth.

UNCLE!SUGU who does notice you arrived. he'd tilt his head back to look at you, adam's apple bobbing with a swallow and a breathless chuckle. “ah, princess, you're here. did daddy drop you off early?”

UNCLE!TORU who pulls away reluctantly from fondling suguru's squishy pecs when the other man lightly smacks his arm. finally lifting his head to look up at you, satoru immediately lit up, like you hadn't just witnessed them making out a second prior.

“hey, kid! long time no see!” UNCLE!TORU would say, getting up from the couch in a rush to smother you in a hug. a tight hug. tight enough to feel something hard poking at your stomach.

UNCLE!SUGU who steals you from satoru's arms as soon as the other man walks you to the couch, chuckling from your cute little squeak when he makes you sit on his lap. “how's uni, princess?” he'd ask, rubbing a hand up and down your thigh in a way that feels friendly, but not friendly enough.

UNCLE!TORU who stares as you shyly stutter through telling about your recent life. and i mean really stare. those blue eyes make you shiver, tho not as much as when he starts drinking you down like a prized possession.

UNCLE!TORU who even licks his lips, noting his favorite parts of your body, and how cute you look with a little tummy peaking out as suguru's other hand draws patterns on the skin.

UNCLE!SUGU who adding little “oh, i see”s, “really?”s and hums along to your story, relishing the way your voice wavers when he mumbled so close to your ear.

UNCLE!SUGU who stops to chuckle when your thighs finally give a twitch, nuzzling your cheek softly as he murmurs: “what's wrong, princess? ticklish?”

UNCLE!TORU who smirks at this, wiggling his fingers threateningly at you. “ohh! is our baby niece ticklish? lemme see, lemme see!” he'd say, before attacking your sides until you giggle.

UNCLE!TORU who makes your giggles into moans when he suddenly starts playing with your breasts.

UNCLE!SUGU who hugs you by the waist when you squirm, peppering kisses down your cheek and neck. his voice is so warm and soft, you feel yourself dumbed down from how smooth he sounds alone. “you're such a good girl... wanna please your uncles, right, princess? make us happy and get lots of praise and attention. yeah, right~?”

UNCLE!SUGU who kisses you until you melt in his arms. sloppy and slow and with lots of tongue, drool dribbling down your chin. UNCLE!TORU who kisses like you might disappear, holding your face with two hands, rough and loud until you're breathless and whimpering.

UNCLE!SUGU who peppers bites and kisses on your sides and tummy before eating out your sweet pussy. UNCLE!TORU who's obsessed with your tits and leaves your nipples sore and drenched in saliva.

UNCLE!TORU who takes his sweet time prepping your tight little ass to receive him; with lots of lube and his fingers, maybe even a toy from his collection. UNCLE!SUGU who relishes each moan satoru elicits from you and that vibrates around his cock.

UNCLE!SUGU who'd leave your face a sticky mess of precum and saliva, from gently coaching you how to deepthroat. he'd rub his cock all over your face every time you pull away with a gag. “you look s'pretty, princess, you know that? huh? how pretty my perfect girl looks, all slutty for some cock?”

UNCLE!TORU who almost loses his mind the moment he's inside you. who does most of the thrusting from behind while you sit and buck on suguru's thick cock. satoru's balls slap against you, suguru's pubes tickle your clit just the right way.

“sss'good, s'good, fuck, squeezin' so t'ght,” he'd say between gritted teeth. UNCLE!TORU who had this smile on his face: his eyes half-lidded, his eyebrows creased upwards, sometimes poking his tongue out as he worked his long perfect cock inside your puckered hole.

UNCLE!SUGU who looked straight up heavenly. biting his lower lip, grunting soft and deep, long pretty hair loose and draped over the armrest and a hand resting behind his head comfortably. the other is on your ass, caressing circles and patterns with the tips of his fingers and nails that made you squirmy.

UNCLE!TORU who wouldn't resist bending down, sandwiching you between their chests, to whimper and moan around suguru's tongue. you'd feel every vibration of their grunts and moans from how tight you're squeezed between their big bodies, their hips moving in synch to always keep you full of one or another.

UNCLE!SUGU who'd kiss you right after, sharing their mixed spit with you.

UNCLE!TORU and UNCLE!SUGU who'd fuck you harder and harder, more and more messy, then creampie you from both ends as you moaned loud and cried out. who'd hold you tight as you writhed and squirmed through your orgasm and their owns.

UNCLE!TORU who'd be so loud when he cums. fucking you through it in squirming, rutting fashion as he whimpers from the oversensitivity but fuck he can't stop.

UNCLE!SUGU who'd arch with a loud grunt and a gasp, panting and bucking his hips, holding your thighs for support and bite your shoulder as the afterglow washes through him.

“not a word of this to your daddy,” UNCLE!SUGU would chuckle, slapping your asscheeks fondly with both hands, happy with the small jump you gave.

UNCLE!TORU who'd refuse to leave your tight hole, nuzzling your nape and purring like a content kitty as he said: “our baby, all for us... such a good girl...”

UNCLE!SUGU and UNCLE!TORU who'd ask to have you over a lot more often from now on. 🩷

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misc-obeyme · 3 days

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🍄 coming in for laughs So imagine lucifer and mc switching bodies for a day. Satan needs to learn how to store the cursed tomes. Mc makes lucifer swear to behave like nothing happened. At RAD Dia obv figures out mc is lucifer for today, and so mc is excused from work. Meanwhile, lucifer needs to handle all his brothers touching, flirting, suggestions, secrets, not being able to be as intimidating, body is too small, where the fuck are my wings, why is your skin like that. At some point mammon even picks mc up on his shoulder and runs away. Attempted kisses. Total chaos. But he is too prideful to go back on his promise. At evening in the common room, they are back in their bodies, mc sitting on the couch, stifling a laugh, lucifer standing there embarrassed to his core, the rest come in, and find out the truth. A week later, Satan still hasn't come out of his room, Mammon can't look lucifer in the eye, Asmo gets flustered just thinking how close he was to lucifer having him on the table (in his imagination at least), Solomon wishes he asked mc for a pact while he could've, maybe it would work like that What do you think about the rest pf the characters? Ps. I love torturing lucifer, it's a hobby at this point

OH NO poor Lucifer!!!

MC being kinda mean by making him promise not to tell! They had to know he'd suffer at the hands of everyone believing he was them.

Then again, maybe it's good for him to experience a day being MC. He can finally know what it's like for MC to deal with this nonsense every day lol.

I love the idea that Diavolo figures it out almost immediately. Like MC shows up in Lucifer's body, ready to pretend to be him and get work done. At first Dia's like hmm okay.

But then MC does something too un-Lucifer like and Dia's like okay what gives. Who are you and what have you done with Lucifer. And MC just caves.

I can kinda see Levi just being unaffected. Like maybe he didn't even go to RAD that day and he's been holed up in his room playing some video game and missed the whole thing. 'Cause if he thought he was having some kinda sweet moment with MC and then found out later it was Lucifer, I promise the HoL will be flooded shortly thereafter.

Beel takes it in stride. He just goes over to Lucifer and says "Sorry for what I did when I thought you were MC." And Lucifer sighs and looks aggrieved, but he's like it's fine. 'Cause who could stay mad at sweet precious Beel?

Belphie is devastated, but like hell he's gonna let anyone know. Says he doesn't care and goes to sleep. Later finds MC and is like, here's what I did when I thought Lucifer was you. It was terrible. How could you make me suffer like this.

Barbatos would know, I don't think he'd be fooled at all. He keeps the secret, but he's just laughing about the whole situation on the inside.

Simeon is confused. Wait. MC was actually Lucifer? Oh. Oh no. He's gonna be apologizing to Lucifer for anything he did when he thought Lucifer was MC, even if he didn't do anything lol. Lucifer's just like please let us not speak of it.

I love that Solomon is disappointed he lost his chance to try for a pact. Lucifer is just like it's never gonna happen.

Satan receives an unfortunately long lecture about the correct storage of cursed books.

#torturing Lucifer is incredibly entertaining #Anti Lucifer League is like this is funny but we also hate it #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me lucifer #🍄 anon #uh I know you're not on anon but I'm still using that tag lol #misc answers

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aka-indulgence · 3 days

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Please do tell us more about the dealer. Perhaps how the two met or more about his personality? Love your writing btw and how you pulled me in to hyperfixate on him aswell.

I’ve been thinking of how they met for a while. At one point I’d imagine you’d play buckshot roulette… but I like the idea of you knowing each other before that point.

In my scenario, you work in the club he haunts. Maybe he owns the place but makes someone else run for him. All you know is that you don’t meet him when you get hired, but he’s a constant presence.

And people are scared of him enough that it’s almost like he isn’t even an… earthly entity.

“No you uh… don’t want to meet the boss. It doesn’t have a pretty face.”

You hear gunshots on the top floor. The first time you hear them you freak out, but everyone else in the club don’t seem to bother.

“It’s playing another round…”

You feel like someone who’s out of a secret, and when you ask, they only say two words.

“Buckshot roulette.”

From its name alone you get a good idea of what kind of game that is and feel a shudder. What kind of a man plays such a dangerous game every night…?

It isn’t a while until you meet the fabled…. person(?).

Sometimes a shadowy face looks down from the second floor. And you know it’s not the cigarette guy who always seems to hang up there.

Did you make eye contact? You can’t tell from all the way down here.

Then you meet him for the first time when he goes down for a drink. Turning around to see an awfully frightening face- you can’t help but scream. He doesn’t look human- you think!? With a grin full of knives, hollowed out sockets for eyes, and a shotgun strapped to his back, you’d think you were staring down the face of death (which, for certain people, it is).

And just to add to that, he has a hole staining blood down his messy shirt.

Your scream makes him pause- blink for a few seconds. Then he laughs- loudly, enough that it unnerves everyone else in the club. No one stares too long, no one wants to anger the guy(?) with a shotgun.

“You must be the new gal, aren’t you?”

That’s when you realize… this is The Boss.

“Be a lamb and grab me some beers.”

“Do you-? Are you… need… medical…”

You unknowingly endear yourself to the Dealer quickly, from how concerned you seemed, and rolling with the punches. Most people who’ve never seen him turn tail and leave, and here you were, doing your best to fulfill his request.

It makes him actually visit the club more often just to see you, sometimes encountering you on the way home and walking you to the nearest bus stop… and every time, he quickly disappears before anyone else sees him. He’s an enigma. You don’t know why he seems to linger around you, but if you’re making the boss happy, you see it as a win.

As for him, he’s quickly charmed by you, and enjoys your company. Actually gets disappointed when he finishes a game and finds you’d gotten home already. He wants you to stay around a long while. Hopefully, you’ll never have to play a round of buckshot roulette with him…

#the dealer is a man(?)#youre basically the only one that calls him ‘him’#everyone else is like ‘??? what is that thing???’#i planned to write something more. WhhOA this weekend #but i got bonked by social exhaustion jfhdkg #dealer buckshot roulette #buckshot roulette #i really like the idea of you going home #and suddenly feel a shadow looming over you #and dealer’s just. ‘hi :] are you trying to avoid me by going home early?’#and youre like #’w-WAAH NO PLS DONT BE MAD’#dkjfg #i love my readers meek #ask #dealer ask

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goldenlikedayl1ght · 2 days

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the albatross - m. murdock

a/n: hi everyone! so this is that weird and off putting reader i was mentioning earlier! she's not that weird but she's sort of odd so yeah. also i know bucky is the winter soldier but idk how else to tag this so oh well! i do have lore and stuff for readers time as a soldier so i'll include that in later installments! i was kind of in a writers block and this pushed me out of that. so enjoy! please please tell me what you thought and if you want more! warnings: cursing, mentions of death, war, torture, pain, people being dead, reader having horrible people skills and ptsd, mentions of sex maybe? uhmmm in general reader is just sort of strange and this is her and matt's early relationship, so sorry if i missed anything ! word count: 3.6k summary: you have spent the past ninety (give or take) years tortured and in pain. then, a handsome stranger comes into your life and changes everything. pairing: matt murdock x winter soldier!fem!reader now playing: the albatross - taylor swift "i'm the albatross/i swept in at the rescue/the devil that you know/looks now more like an angel/i'm the life you chose/and all this terrible danger"

You’re working a morning shift at the bakery when he comes in. The pastries in the case are laid out just so, and you have been meticulously working on this sign for your fall specials. You are determined to focus on something that is not how poorly you slept, your hair tied up in a braid behind you as you work.

You’re determined to get these pumpkin stems drawn correctly; a green marker clenched in your hand. Your knuckles are white with the tension you are holding in your fingers. It’s around eight in the god damn morning, and you have been awake since around three a.m.

You don’t even hear the bell ring, nor do you hear the click-clacking of a cane on the tiled floors, you only hear an awkward clearing of the throat, to which you spin around, about to throw the marker at the customer, but stopping when you realize what you’re doing.

The customer smiles awkwardly at you, and you recognize instantly that between his glasses and cane, he is most definitely blind. You almost feel silly, until you remember everything, and you wish that there was more moments where you think you’re silly for being paranoid.

And there’s something else, too. You look at this man for a few moments, before realizing that he is so god damn hot. Which, is weird, because you have not felt anything for any man or woman in years, too busy focusing on other things, too busy thinking about everything that’s happened. But god, the stubble tracing his face, the way his dark hair falls, and the way his hand wraps around his cane..

But what gets you really is his lips. Maybe you’re staring, maybe you don’t care. But his lips are this pretty pink, and you find yourself getting lost in the nicest daydream you’ve had in a very long time..

And then, you snap out of that fantasy to remind yourself that you are working and don’t even know his name.

“Hi, sorry,” You cough awkwardly, “Was just focused,” You tell him, approaching the counter. You wipe your sweaty hands on your apron, before putting on your best ‘I’m a friendly bakery worker who just wants to sell you pastries, also tip me please!’ smile on. “What can I get you?” You ask.

“Do you guys have apple turnovers?” It is the first time this fall that is under 65 degrees, so you understand that there is some cravings for autumn snacks.

“Yeah, yeah,” You move towards the case to get some, “Just the one?”

“Three, actually. For the office.” He hums.

“Some big office,” Your voice is a sarcastic mumble, not really for the an to hear but he chuckles at it, and you almost think it’s weird that he an hear you but your brain tells you not to judge, since there is a whole lot the handsome stranger could judge you for.

“We’re a small business. Very friendly, very personable.”

You cannot help yourself, and you find yourself asking, “What sort of business are you in?” What the handsome stranger does not know is that you are insatiably angry at yourself for asking that because you had pretty much promised yourself that you were never going to have any sort of relationship—it wouldn’t be fair to them, it wouldn’t be fair to you. And as previously established, that wasn’t a problem, because you weren’t really attracted to anyone before this handsome stranger waltzed on into the bakery.

“I’m a lawyer.” He smiles. A lawyer.

“Well, Mr. Lawyer, your total is 10.75.” He pulls out a twenty and when you hand him change, he asks, “Which one is the five?” and you wordlessly pull out the five from the stack you handed him, before he puts the rest of the change in his wallet, dropping a five and a small card into your tip jar. “You have a good day now.” He hums, before making his way out of the bakery.

You watch intently, maybe a little too intently, and you hear the voice of your best friend from your teenage years in your head saying, ‘You hate to see him go, but you love to watch him leave.’ And a small smile finds its way to your face.

Then, you notice the card he dropped in the jar before fishing it out. On the front, it reads,

‘Matthew M. Murdock, Attorney at Law.’ On the back, you read,

‘Nelson, Murdock & Page, Attorneys at Law,

Hell’s Kitchen’

Accompanied by this is a phone number and an address.

You pocket the card, and before you know it, costumers are flooding in, and you ease into the day, forgetting about the handsome stranger until you leave the bakery at around six o’clock that night. You finish cleaning up from the day before letting the woman who works to prep for the next day. Then you leave, heading home to the too quiet, too small apartment.

You don’t have much in your apartment. You sleep with a gun under your pillow and you have a cheap TV on your dresser. You spend most of your time catching up on books or movies. You make yourself box mac and cheese before eating it right out of the pot, sitting on your kitchen floor.

As you cook the mac and cheese, you say his name over and over again, letting it sit on your tongue and escape your lips, thinking about him intently. You glance at your watch and decide that maybe it’s early enough that he might still be at his office.

You fish your tiny flip phone out of your pocket, dialing the number on the card and waiting. You’re holding your breath as the phone rings. A thought runs through your brain that maybe he gave you a wrong number and then your brain immediately reminds you that no man is ever going to give you his card, printed out, just to fuck with you.

“Nelson, Murdock & Page, how can I help you?” A voice asks, and you blink, hesitating for a minute.

“Uh, I’m looking for Matthew.” You say, and there’s some light shuffling, and again, this regret shoots over you until you hear a very smooth, very familiar voice,

“Hey,” His voice is like honey and you long to hear it clearer—The first time you’ve desired a better phone. “I was hoping you’d call.”

“Yeah, well, Maybe I just like the sound of your voice.”

“You know usually, that’s my line.”

“Wait, that works on people?” You hear his laugh on the other side of the phone and a shiver runs down your spine as you itch to make him laugh more.

“Telling people they’re beautiful doesn’t hit the same when you’re blind.”

“I guess not..” There’s a silence on his end of the phone, before he says,

“I never got your name.” For a moment, you consider giving him a fake name, but you find yourself giving him your name, the one that your parents gave you all those years ago. It’s foreign on your lips, a rare gem that you do not often give out. He repeats it and you swear you could almost die right then and there. “What are you doing tonight?”

You’re taken back by his forwardness, not anticipating that maybe this handsome stranger, Matthew, wants to be around you just as bad as you want to be around him. And then you look around at your dingy apartment, with your boxy TV, the gun under your pillow, and you, sitting on the floor of your kitchen, having just finished eating box mac and cheese with a wooden spoon that just for a second tastes like the one your mother used to cook with, the one you’d get tastes of sauces, soups, anything you could get your hands on.

And then you remember everything that happened after those days sneaking tastes of your mom’s cooking and you feel guilty for pursuing handsome Matthew, because he has no idea what he is getting into.

“Just finished dinner. Was planning on just relaxing.” Reading until around midnight and then getting an hour or two of sleep.

“Well, how about we go do something?” You detect a bit of hopefulness in his voice. You find yourself asking before you can stop yourself,

“Like, like a date?” And he laughs again.

“Yes, like a date.”

“I don’t know,” You start, “Usually I have to ask my father’s permission before I go out on the town with a boy.” You want to slap your hand over your mouth because you sound your age. Oh god.

“Really?”

“..No.” You hope he finds your weird, totally not a cover up, joke funny. And he laughs again, telling you,

“You’re funny.”

Yeah, really fucking hilarious.

“So, a date?”

“A date.” You consider this for a moment. A date might lead somewhere real. Somewhere dangerous. Somewhere you haven’t been in.. years. Years might be an understatement. Your heart thuds against your chest, and you find yourself full of that nostalgic thing you call desire.

“What would we do?”

“Anything you want.” He tells you.

“Anything? That’s dangerous.” Because this whole thing is dangerous, you want to tell him, maybe you should mention the whole age thing, the whole assassin thing, the whole brainwashing thing, the whole thing.

“Yeah? What dangerous things do you have in mind, doll?” You have to hold the phone away from your ear to breathe, because it feels like someone just took the winds out of your sails. Suddenly it is 1940 something and a boy is flirting with you, and you have to act like a lady in hopes that he will treat you right.

Odd thing to think about today, but you’re an odd person.

“What about ice cream and a bookstore?” You ask, and for a moment you want to hit yourself for not suggesting something cool like a club or something and then you realize that you have no idea what counts as a cool date in this day and age.

Did you know when you were a teenager and had the world at your fingertips, eighty (give or take) years ago?

But to your surprise, handsome Matthew just responds,

“That sounds nice. Do you want me to pick you up at your apartment?”

The idea of handsome Matthew being at your tiny apartment that is not suitable for a date makes your heart race.

“I’ll meet you at the ice cream place in an hour. You know the one near the bakery?”

“Yeah. See you then.”

“Yeah. See you.” And when you hang up, you realize just what has happened. For the first time since 1944, You have landed yourself a date with a handsome man that is genuinely interested in you and in your infinite wisdom decided that ice cream and books were the best way to impress him.. Books.. Blind man.

You lightly bang your head against the counter behind you, muttering to yourself how stupid that was. But you an only dwell on it for a moment before you are standing up and making your way over to your room to get ready.

You’re still in your work uniform. And you look like an idiot. So, you clean yourself up and pull on something presentable, something comfortable. There is no confusion as to the nature of this meet up, you two are going on a date and you asked a blind man to go to a bookstore. You feel like an asshole. And you’re aware that you’re putting emphasis on that, but still!

You go through outfits and outfits, trying to figure out what an appropriate outfit is for this first date. You end up in something casual, and you hope you’re not underdressed. Honestly, you know you’re making a fuss over something as standard as a date, but you are genuinely desperate to have this go well.

You finally decide on an outfit and make your way out the door, grabbing your jacket and stepping out of the apartment. You stop outside of your door before turning around and going back into your room to change your top.

But eventually, you do get to the ice cream place Matt and you had discussed on the phone. And there he is, in all his glory, wearing the same outfit he wore when you saw him in the bakery that morning, only, without his tie, and he looks more disheveled. Somehow it’s more charming to see him like this, more exhilarating to imagine a life with such a low stakes man (You’ll look back on this thought later and laugh)

“Hi,” You greet, and Matt smiles in your direction.

“Hi.” He hums, and again, you feel nervous! So, before he can say much else, you blurt out,

“So, This is my first date in a while.. So. Sorry about that.” You say awkwardly.

“A while?” He asks, tilting his head like a curious dog. You’re struck by the fact that he is around 70 years younger than you. “Like, a few months?”

A beat.

Handsome Matthew is much busier than you are, it seems.

“More like a couple of years.” And by ‘a couple’ you mean eighty some odd years, but Matt doesn’t need to know all of that right now. But he just hums and nods, before answering,

“That’s alright, I’ll be gentle.” Your face flushes, and with a nervous laugh, you ask,

“You mean we’ll take it slow?”

“Sure. Whatever. We’ll figure out the details of it all later.” His hand finds yours, and before you can protest he pulls you into the ice cream shop. Handsome Matthew orders chocolate chip cookie dough because he is perfect in every way, and you order..

“Butter pecan, please.” You get odd glances from Matthew and the seventeen year old minimum wage worker behind the counter, but neither of them say anything. You manage to beat Matthew to paying for the ice cream, and as you walk, he asks,

“Butter pecan? Really?” And you roll your eyes. Young people today, always judging.

“You’re lucky they didn’t have butterscotch, that’s my real favorite.” You respond, before taking a lick of the ice cream. Your handsome date, gives you another bizarre look.

“Okay, what’s your third favorite ice cream flavor?”

“Mm..” You take a few minutes to think about it, before deciding on your answer. “A tie between pistachio and coffee.” And at your answer, Matt laughs at you. You let out an offended gasp, although you’re not being serious, before asking, “what’s so horrible about that?”

“You have the ice cream preferences of an eighty year old,” He laughs and you laugh too, because oh, if only he knew.

“Sorry, my pallet is straight from the 40’s.” It’s a joke. That’s a joke. Not at all based in facts or actuality. You continue working through eating your ice cream and talking to your handsome date. “So, does the handsome lawyer have any family I should know about?”

“You think I’m handsome?” He grins, and your face flushes.

“Answer the question.”

“No siblings. My dad died when I was young and It’s only recently that I’ve been talking to my mother.” Interesting, you think, and then this dawning realization happens where you realize that the next thing out of his mouth will be the inevitable question, “How about your family?”

You consider lying but you decide against it. If this is going to lead anywhere good, you don’t want to base it off lies.

“Not much to say. I’m the sole survivor.” You shrug, keeping it vague. He frowns a bit before squeezing your hand.

“A couple of orphans, huh?”

You squeeze his back.

“Seems like it.”

You kind of aren’t over the death of your parents and your siblings and quite literally everyone you knew as a teenager and young adult—You’re not over so many fucking things that if you went through it all, you’d probably keep poor Handsome Matthew up all night.

But instead of talking about that, Matt finds himself walking with you to the bookstore. You hold the door open for him and begin to wander. You quickly move past the books on World War II, as if faced with an ex you want nothing to do with them.

You begin to look at the romance books, scrunching your nose at how cheesy and surface level so many of these young adult novels are. But then you remind yourself that you are a hundred years old. But you look like you’re in your late twenties, early thirties. As you’re looking at the books, Matthew makes his way to the aisle next to yours, and talks to you through the stacks.

“So, what’s your favorite book?”

“That’s like asking a mother her favorite child.” You answer quickly, and you hear him laugh. Your face flushes.

“Try for me.”

“Uh, I really love Great Gatsby. I’m kind of fascinated with the zombie genre, too, it’s sort of new and interesting, and uh, oh, I read this Neil Gaiman novel, uh, Stardust? I really liked that.” You confess. Matt listens as you fumble through novels, both of you making your way towards the end of the aisle.

“And movies?”

“Why is everything about me? I didn’t hear your favorite novel.”

“The Outsiders.” He responds, and you make a mental note to try and find it in the bookstore. “So, movies?”

You’ve had autonomy for around three years now, so.. Your movie knowledge has been kind of stunted, so you wrack your brain to try and come up with something impressive.

“I really like the Indiana Jones series, uh, oh, The Matrix, and..” You ponder your brain. “Oh! And King Kong!” You saw that one in the theatres for your thirteenth birthday.

“Like, the one that came out in 2017?” He asks, and again, you consider lying, because you actually have seen that one because when you looked up ‘King Kong’ it came out, and it really blew your mind how far CGI had come.

“No, the one that came out in ’33.” As if it is the most normal thing in the entire world.

“One of your favorite movies is one from 1933?” And the old woman in you wants to insist that you loved the decades you grew up in, and that seeing King Kong in the theatres was a marvelous thing because you could barely afford rent. And then you remember you shouldn’t reveal your history with the Great Depression to a man you’re on your first date with.

“Yup.” You assert, and ask, “You?”

“Star Wars, any of them, and the Princess Bride.” Again, you make a note to add it to your list.

“Interesting.” You hum, and you find The Outsiders, wanting to read it, to consume it, to consume him, and every thought he has. The two of you meet at the end of the aisle, too close to be platonic as his hands come to find your arms, and you shudder at the affection.

“Touch starved, huh?” He grins. You flush and roll your eyes.

“You’re so mean.” You huff, and he laughs. His hand moves up your arms and cups your jaw, enjoying the feeling of your warm cheeks.

“Well, you’re odd.”

“Odd?”

“Everything about you. Your movie tastes, your jokes, your ice cream flavors.” He hums, with a soft shrug. “It’s not a bad thing, I’m just.. Trying to figure you out.”

“You’d be the first to accomplish such a feat.”

He laughs at that, and he’s so beautiful.. That you cannot help yourself when you lean up and gently press a soft kiss to those beautiful pretty pink lips that had caught your attention that morning. He kisses you back, without hesitation.

You feel at peace for the first time in years, as if everything you had gone through, every moment of torture and pain, has been worth it because it leads you to this. To Handsome Matthew, who kisses you so tenderly that no matter how simple it is, you are left breathless and desperate for more. You lean into him, deepening the kiss, pushing him back a bit, his back pressed against the stacks. The book in your hands is crumpled, and eventually, Matthew pulls away, before pushing you back a bit.

“Easy,” He says breathlessly, and you need the reminder, because you try to catch your breath. Holy shit. “Easy, easy..” he repeats, his hands rubbing up and down your arms a bit. “I’ve got you, just breath.” He laughs, and you lean your forehead against your shoulder. Fuck.

“When can I see you again?” Is your only thought, and he chuckles gently.

“Whenever you want.” He promises, and you nod, before leaning up to kiss him again.

One day you’ll tell him everything. You’ll tell him all of the horrible things you’ve done and have had done to you, and you’ll tell him why the nightmares came, and why they won’t ever go away. One day, you’ll tell handsome Matthew why you sleep with a gun under your pillow and why you have no family and why you are so odd.

For now, you decide that you deserve a few nice things.

And when he kisses back, you realize that maybe he is just as infatuated with you as you are with him. Maybe. Maybe he is full of secrets and his own horrors that plague him while he sleeps, and maybe that’s the unspoken reason you are so deeply fascinated with one another.

Maybe.

Maybe you’ve spent the past ninety years going from fight to fight, to nightmare to nightmare. Maybe you’re owed some time in the sun with Handsome Matthew.

Maybe.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #daredevil fic #daredevil fanfiction #matt murdock fic #daredevil #matt murdock fluff #winter soldier!reader #tortured reader #super soldier reader #matt murdock fanfiction #daredevil fluff #daredevil x reader #netflix daredevil #matt murdock fanfic

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purgemarchlockdown · 3 days

Text

Yoh know, I was planning on doing this at the end of the week. Just to really make sure the month long break was month long and to confirm I really did want to return, but damn the state of the tag in the last month or two is so sad and I have a hunch as to why.

So, hi again Milgramblr! I’m Nott! I’m an enjoyer of analysis and a believer that it’s a collaborative experience where people with various opinions and come together and discuss topics!

“Nott why are you saying this, statistically speaking, we already knew this about you?” Oh cause I experienced harrasement and outright got lied to multiple times lol.

I’m just saying it because I might as well, it’s pretty obvious something happened. I don’t like saying names publically, especially when I don’t plan on ever talking about this afterwards unless they engage which…well their blocked so I hope not. But I’m using this as a jumping off point for the actual topic of discussion.

Again, part of my enjoyment of analysis comes from collaboration, and as much as I love sending giant walls of texts to friends I enjoy seeing discussion from people I don’t know too well or maybe even not at all.

I think it’s important to create spaces in which analysis without fear of being executed in the middle of town square. It’s good to have more people working togehter in good faith to enjoy something, obviously, and the only real way of doing so is to…let people’s analysis be shared and discussed.

So! I’m turning my return post into a CALL FOR ANALYSIS YEAH! I HAVE BEEN GONE FOR A MONTH! TELL ME YOUR COOL OPINIONS EITHER HERE OR IN MY ASKBOX! I am holding my paws out like furry Oliver Twist going “Please, may I please have more analysis.” The intermission is the perfect time to discuss the information we have been provided!

On stuff I’ve been mulling over: I’ve been doing my usual narrative analysis and uh…attempting to write the monster theory analysis and then Not. Plus some other fun stuff you might see soon from me! Hope you enjoy what I got thought up!

#milgram #YEAH FUCKERS YOU THOUGHT YOU COULD KILL NE #HA #HAHAHAHA

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allllium · 2 days

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Heyaaa, I have a request! If it's not too much trouble, have you listened to too sweet by Hozier.. that song with the tf 141 boys (if it could be Ghost, it would be great!!)

Thanks in advance!!! And it's perfectly fine if you don't wanna!

~ I'm really sorry this took so long, I have not been feeling great but here it is. I hope you like this because honestly I am terrible at comprehending songs but I think this fits pretty well :)

~ If you're not happy with this for any reason please let me know and I will happily redo it with your advice <3

~ Fluff, WC: 1,189

You have a crush on Simon Riley. You know this, and so does everyone else, including him. Despite the very obvious adoration on your part he's never said anything about it.

You honestly have no idea how he feels about you and you're not sure you want to know. You do tons of little things for him and he does things for you, but that's all your relationship entails.

You are both so different it's not like you could ever fit together so perfectly, right?

I take my whiskey neat

“Here you are Lt.” You slide him a drink across the table. He makes a face behind his mask that you now recognize as his scowl. “Don't make that face at me.”

“You can't even see my face,” he replies, in his signature thick accent. “And I don't need you buying me drinks.”

“Well that's too bad 'cause’ I did. Don't tell me you're gonna let good whiskey go to waste.”

His deep brown eyes stare at you for a heavy moment before picking up the drink, lifting his mask just enough to show his cut jaw and full lips.

“Usually this is where I get a thank you.” You taunt him, trying not to let your gaze linger on what you can see of his perfect but slightly messed up face.

“Don't push your luck, Sargent.”

My coffee black…

“Oh dark like your soul, ain't that right Lt.” You gesture towards his black mug of black coffee.

Simon takes a deep breath as he takes in your words, his chest rising and falling in annoyance. He shakes his head silently, apparently not wanting to pleasure you with a response.

“Seriously, how do you drink that?” You put your hand on his perfect arm to push him out of the way of the coffee pot.

“Oh let me guess you take your coffee with a pound of sugar.” He rolls his eyes at you, in more of an attitude than you appreciate.

“Incorrect. I'm sweet enough as it is.” You smile at him while you turn around to stir your drink.

“Maybe a little too sweet don't you think?”

“Only to you.” You mutter under your breath.

…And my bed at three

“Oi Lt, what are you doing up at this hour?” You take amusement at the way this giant of a man jumps slightly at your voice.

“Did you just say oi?” He asks as if he didn't just hear you say it.

“Yes I did, do we need to get your hearing checked?” You make fun of him for the hundredth time that day.

��Why?” His gruff voice cuts through the air.

“I want it on record that I don't appreciate this attitude of yours. And I said "oi” because I'm becoming more like you.”

“I don't say oi.”

“I don't believe you. You sound like you say it.” You shrug and take a seat on the couch next to you.

“What does that mean?” He sits down next to you but he seems like he doesn't want a real answer.

“Your voice.”

“What's wrong with my voice?” This time it seems like he actually wants to know what you think.

“Oh nothing. It's a nice voice but it just gives me oi vibes.” He stares at you like you're crazy.

“I have a nice voice do I?”

“Don't let it get to your head.” You lay your head.on his shoulder.

No one speaks for a while but eventually Simon sits up. “It's three in the morning, we should get to bed.”

“Yeah that's probably smart.” You give him a big smile when you stand up. “Goodnight Lt.”

You're too sweet for me

“And here you are.” You take a dramatic bow as you hand Simon his gift, acting as if you just delivered the most important thing in the world.

“What is this?” He asks with a tone of impatientence.

“A gift.”

“It's not a holiday-” You quickly cut him off.

“Or your birthday I know, but I remember you saying something about it and got it for you”

“How do you know it's not my birthday, I've never told you that.” He pauses for a split second before continuing, “Did you look at my files?”

“That's not important, open your gift.” He shakes his head but opens the bag you've given him.

Quickly, he pulls out a mask just like the one he's currently wearing. A mask you've handmade just for him.

“What is this?” He instantly demands.

“That is what we call a mask sir. I remember you told me about that one having an annoying hole so I thought I'd help you out. Originally I was just gonna patch the hole but then I figured that mask has been through a lot so you deserved a new one.”

He loudly clears his throat. “I hope you know there won't be a gift in return.”

“I don't expect one, simply doing a nice thing.”

“Well thank you Sargent.” You smile at his thanks, feeling how much he means it.

“Anytime.” Is the only word you get in before he runs off.

You're too sweet for me

“You know this is basically our third date.” You randomly blurt out. You're sitting with Simon in a coffee shop off base. You don't know what you were expecting with Simon off base but one thing you never thought about when inviting him out is his absence of the mask.

Obviously wearing it would draw more attention than usual but now you're sitting straight across from the face of the man you're practically fawning over.

“This is not a date.” He defends roughly.

“Yes it is, our first was dinner and second was the bar so that makes this the third.”

“Those weren't dates, just outings between friends.” He runs his eyes everywhere but your face.

“Aww so you admit we're friends.” You can't help but tease. “But I'm being serious Simon. You can't deny it forever.”

“Yes I can.” He fiddles with his drink as you continue your mini interrogation.

“No you can't. I know you like me, Lt. Why won't you say it.”

“You're different.” He begins.

“If you start to say I'm dumb you're getting punched.”

“No! Of course not. You're different from me and I don't know if we would work.”

“Bullshit. Spill it.”

“Fine, you're too sweet.” He spits out as if it was fire coming out.

You can't help the bubbling laugh that spills out your mouth. “Too sweet? What does that even mean?” You ask him, still laughing.

“I don't know. You're too sweet to me, you give me things and you say all the right things and I don't think I could give all that back to you.”

‘I don't want you to give me anything back. I want you to give me you, you're too sweet for me too Lt. Even if it is in a different looking way.” You slide your hand across the table to lay on his. He returns your hold and gives you a smile that is uniquely his. This is all you need.

#simon ghost riley x reader #call of duty simon riley #call of duty simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost x reader #ghost cod #domestic ghost #ghost simon riley x reader #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley x gn!reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley fanfic

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johnnieguilbertsgirlfriend · 1 day

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hi hi hi! so i was wondering if you could possibly write a little johnnie Smut and fluff where maybe johnnie invites his gf (reader) to be in a video with him and Jake (possibly a Halloween type video) and jake making his silly little comments about johnnie being a virgin and getting no pussy and reader makes a lil comment agreeing w jake. Johnnie being salty the rest of the video and it leading to smut w a lil choking maybe 😜🤭🤭🤭

(i love your writing, feel free to tweak this however u please!)

𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐯𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐧? - 𝐣𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

contains: dom! johnnie x f sub! reader, fluff, smut, p in v, choking, fingering, spanking

word count: 1.5k

this request is mmm i needed some dom johnnie

story below the cut

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emo guy:

y/n

babe

babe.

baby wake up

you:

mmmm whats up

emo guy:

wanna be in a vid with me and jake pleease

you:

ok only bc ur so cute

y didnt u tell me this in person?

we live together

emo guy:

oh shit i forgot

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johnnie opens the door to your shared room to find you sprawled out in the bed. you see he's already ready to attack the day, which is surprising, considering he normally doesn't wake up before 2 p.m. you stare at him for a few moments, not saying anything, before playfully pretending to fall back asleep. he takes this as a challenge, walking over to the curtains and yanking them open, almost blinding himself in the process.

"aughh johnnie it's way too bright" you yawn, the light hurting your eyes. he walks back over to you, leaving a quick kiss to your forehead. "c'mon you have to wake up, jake wants to film a video." you sigh, "what are we gonna do?" he looks at the ceiling before looking back down, "i don't know, i think he wants to buy some halloween stuff or something." "okay tell him i'll be ready soon," you say while stretching your limbs. scratching your head, you get up. "we're gonna leave soon, don't be too long babe." johnnie says, walking out of the room.

you finish your light makeup, as you had already styled your hair and put on some clothes that consisted of johnnie's shirt, no name pajama pants, and socks with birks. it wasn't too much, but it was still so cute on you. johnnie watches you finish your makeup, coming up the vanity. "how did i manage to get the prettiest, loving, and sweet girl ever?" he says, peppering kisses on top of your head, putting his arms around you. "ooh someone's feeling lovey dovey today," you say, pulling him in to a longer kiss. jake bursts through the door, "i- ew, okay guys stop licking on eachother. mama bear needs some candy in her system right now, and i don't need to see all that." he says in a funny southern accent, leaving the room. you laugh a little with johnnie, as you see jake grab his keys, heading to the garage, which is a signal for you guys to get your butts out of the house.

this time, you were the designated camera man, so you held it while they walked through the parking lot. "-and this time we actually have a special guest," you turned the camera around on to yourself and waved, "hey guys, i'm gonna be babysitting these nerds because they got kicked out last time!" johnnie makes an offended expression, "um excuse me it was actually jake who got kicked out because he wouldn't stop screaming" "guys stop ganging up on me" as you film them walking in the store, jake loses spatial awareness, crashing into the metal racks behind him, causing a laugh to come from you and your boyfriend. "oww what the hell johnnie why would you push me like that?" "yeah johnnie why would you do that to poor jake?" "okay how is that fair-"

the video continued like normal, just you three being idiots and making dirty jokes. the shopping cart is almost full to the brim with junk food, random costumes, and halloween decorations. "oh my god johnnie, we have to get you this." jake says, as he holds up a really stupid costume. "that's definitely something a discord mod virgin would wear." "yeah that's exactly my point." "seems pretty realistic." you and jake say at the same time, making fun of johnnie. bursting into fits of laughter, the two of you take turns roasting him. "what do you mean dude you get absolutely zero pussy" "okay y/n help me out here-" "yeah the only girl johnnie hangs out with is you jake." you say, following up his comment. "hey!" johnnie rolls his eyes, looking away and scoffing. you and jake didn't notice, continuing to joke around about johnnie's lack of action, which obviously wasn't true because he was dating you.

typically, you guys wouldn't get mad at eachother when you took turns embarrassing the other, but for some reason he actually seemed slightly pissed. "anyways.." jake continues talking about anything he can think of. for some reason, your boyfriend still looked salty, making snarkier-than-usual comments towards his friend. you guys ended the video, as jake drove home. johnnie stayed quiet on the ride home, and you were thinking if you genuinely might've hurt his feelings. even though it was unintentional, you were determined to find out. jake walks back to his room and shuts the door, presumably going to take a long nap. you turn to johnnie, "are you okay? i'm sorry, i was just teasing you if anything." not saying a word, johnnie grabs your hand, tugging you back to your shared room.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

when both of you get inside, he immediately locks the door and pushes you on the bed. "wha-" he puts his hand over your mouth, leaving you unable to speak. "so you wanna embarrass me in front of the camera huh? i really don't get any pussy, right?", he says while pulling down your pants. you moan out, feeling the friction of his hand against your crotch. "look at you, you're already so wet. do you wanna tell them how much of a slut you are for me, or should we just keep that between us?"

johnnie starts rubbing your throbbing heat through your panties, not letting you answer. he attacks your lips with a passionate and lustful kiss. you kiss back, moaning into it and easily giving into his control. he starts marking your jawline with bruises, as he slides a finger into your soaked pussy. he groans, feeling a tent grow inside his pants. "m' please.." you whine, as he forcefully adds another finger, speeding up the pace. he takes off your lacy panties leaving you completely vulnerable. as you feel yourself getting closer, he removes your shirt. you're finally about to cum until he removes his hand, leaving you practically whimpering for more.

"only good girls get to cum, but you've been really naughty, haven't you? now you have to hold it in." "shit, please johnnie," you say, climbing on top of him while taking off his shirt. he unclasps your bra, quickly sucking on one of your breasts, making you arch your back. while he does this, you get yourself situated on top of his crotch. he takes both of his hands as he gropes your butt. being as horny as you are, you start grinding on his hard-on through his jeans. you whine his name as you start having an orgasm on his pants. "i told you to fucking wait. now you're gonna get it rough whether you like it or not." he moves you off of him, taking off his jeans and his boxer briefs. he flips you on your stomach, and pulls you hips up leaving you in a doggy position. johnnie teases you, rubbing his tip on your now sensitive and overstimulated clit. with that, he takes his hand and gives you a harsh smack on your ass, making you groan loudly.

instantly after, he pushes his full length into you, making both of you moan out. you dig your face into the nearest pillow, trying to deafen your sounds. he starts his pace, getting himself adjusted while groaning. "don't do that, i want to hear your slutty, pretty noises." "w- what if jake hears?" you manage to whimper out. he is attacking your pussy at this point, slamming into you. "then he can hear how no one can fuck you as good as i am." he slaps your ass again, and this time you fully release a moan. "mm fuck" he holds your neck, slightly choking you as he pounds into you. both of you are close to your climaxes. "cum on my dick baby." johnnie groans as he starts rubbing his fingers on your clit, helping you release. while shaking, you shudder out and squirt all over his dick. he follows after you, cumming inside you. (you're on birth control)

he takes himself out of you and stands up. you're so dead at this point that he puts on his boxers, and heads to the bathroom. johnnie comes back with a wet hand towel, cleaning you up and puts a new pair of underwear on you. he also holds you while putting one of his t-shirts on you. "thanks baby." you tiredly say, laying back down on the bed. he crawls right next to you and you cuddle up into him. "so... are you gonna stop making the virgin jokes?" you both laugh, soon falling asleep.

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you're eating cereal for breakfast next morning as johnnie is pouring himself a cup of water. a tired jake comes out of his room, the first words out of his mouth being; "okay guys what the fuck was that?" you look at johnnie, obviously embarrassed as he has a smirk plastered all over his face.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

thank you for requesting! i've been sooo so lazy and it was hard to finish this one but i did it to feed you guys xoxo

#johnnie guilbert #johnnie guilbert x reader smut #johnnie guilbert fluff #johnnie guilbert x reader #johnnie guilbert smut #jake and johnnie #jake webber

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thekeeperof-thefandoms · 19 hours

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Headcanons of Lucifer watching his s/o and Charlie getting along and maybe even having a little musical note together I just know he'd be getting all teary eyed and shit seeing his baby girl having some form of mother figure or someone she can really look to for advice currently present in her life ❤️ Thanks sm hope u have a good day/night!

Absolutely!

I think at first the relationship between Charlie and anyone her dad dates is awkward because she's so nice and trying to be supportive and Lucifer's new s/o would be trying too hard to create that bond. But steadily, you two would find real things you have in common and begin spending time together.

I'm going to use myself for reference here, but I personally really like arts and crafts kind of stuff and am willing to listen to pretty much all genres of music as long as I like the beat/rhythm. So I imagine most of your bonding is done making posters for the hotel, doing crafts with the guests, and just in general vibing to music together.

Like, one suggested activity for the group is coloring because it's a good outlet and it becomes so popular you guys just have a permanent stack of coloring pages and books available with marker, pens, colored pencils, and you, Charlie, Lucifer, and Vaggie are all just coloring and talking, Lucifer's telling embarrassing stories about baby Charlie for you and Vaggie, and you share a few embarrassing stories of yourself to make Charlie feel better and the absolute relief on her face is palpable.

Charlie is nervous because some sinners critiqued her hotel, her appearance, how her dad had to bail her out in the fight against heaven and it's all just making her upset. And of course her dad and her girlfriend are gonna say stuff about how she's beautiful, the hotel is a wonderful idea, and she was so brave in that fight. And like, yeah you're dating her dad and you've been super nice so far, but when you sit down next to her and ask quietly, "Can I offer you some advice?"

"Please? I feel like I don't know what I'm doing."

You laugh, patting her shoulder. "You're young, Charlie, you're not supposed to have it all figured out. But one thing you can do, is decide not to let judgemental pricks get to you. Take every criticism with a grain of salt. Improve, adapt, and filter out bullshit. You can't make everyone happy, and you'll exhaust yourself if you try. So as long as you're happy and at the end of the day you can say you're proud of what you've done, that you tried....well, that should be enough, right?"

Charlie thinks about it and nods. There's a visible shift in her attitude. "Thanks, I needed to hear that....Do you think you could help me read through some of the reviews and stuff? I want to improve if there's any genuine issue that I can address and Dad and Vaggie are....a lot. They just keep trying to tell me everything is perfect."

"They're just trying to hype you up. They love you a lot, so naturally they want you to feel successful and excited. Come on, let's go make some big bowls of ice cream and read through those reviews using silly AI voices. It'll be hilarious."

You and Charlie head off to do just that, talkin and laughing, and neither one of you notices Lucifer absolutely melting into the floor from a few floors up, as he clings to the railing he was leaning against to ease drop. He's gonna need a few minutes to recover. He's crying happy tears. His little girl is grown up and getting along with his partner and they're spending time together and enjoying things together. You're giving her advice and offering her comfort and meeting Charlienat her level and he's just more convinced you're perfect.

He may or may not be ring shopping in the near future. Probably with Ozzie and Bee. They've always had good taste and will probably be thrilled to help him. And if Ozzie is also casually looking for a ring while they're out, well, Lucifer won't say anything.

#fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader

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loneliestluvr · 1 day

Text

𝑻𝒐 𝑴𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒔 𝑰 𝑾𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝑮𝒐, 𝒊𝒊𝒊.

i. ii. iii.

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Archeron OC

Synopsis: Caught up in a world of hollow grief for her people, her life, and her father, Blair Archeron is forced into a life under the light she wants no part of after ghosting through immortality since being Made. But what she finds, is not what she expects.

Warnings: beron😒, abuse in general(like triggering af please be warned), me being a rhysand hater, brief suicidal thoughts

Word Count: 4.1k— this took me all day to write(from 7-9 am and then 3-now please be thankful😞🙏🏼)

taryn thinks: YES I DID CHANGE THE NAME. IT FITS BETTER. I HAD NO IDEA WHERE I WAS GOING WITH THIS WHEN I STARTED. HUSH. i would like to choose this very moment to tell you there will be a happy ending and to say they WILL end up with babies. still unsure how many parts this will be though 💃🏼 im just a gorl. @readychilledwine this is my payment for that tamlin baby and domestic fluff(smut if you’d like) bonus chapter for lost bonds 🤗

There was glass shattered on the floor by the windows.

Eris’s head was down as he stood before his father, pieces of deep auburn hair hanging by his eyes as he tried not to move and tried not to let any emotion pass over his face. Just as Beron expected when he took his lashings— whether that be from a whip, his tongue, or his powers.

However indignant, the fact his father had chosen his tongue today was a mercy.

“You are insignificant,” Beron seethed, spit spraying from his mouth as he yelled. The deep, cruel, voice booming off the walls of his fathers study. “—a bastard, truly. A bastard because you surely can not be this stupid and be born of me. A worthless excuse for a first son.”

Eris kept his stature wane, making himself small for his father despite the fact he was a few good inches taller than the male.

Sometimes, he thought the High Lord’s need to belittle and denigrate everyone around him, raise his voice and grow violent, was driven by some sort of lust. For power, respect, whatever it may be. Something he lacked.

That maybe the fact he put energy into minimizing his court, his family, his wife even, was because he didn’t even respect himself. That he needed to create room for his anger and hatred by pushing others down.

What had happened to him that made him so cruel? Is this how his father had been to him? Was this love to him?

“How is it that we’ve only just learned there’s a fourth sister, Eris? Tell me,” Beron’s voice grew lethally quiet as he spoke and Eris forced himself to breathe, bracing mentally. “—tell me so I know who better to put on the throne instead of your pathetic fucking excuse of life.”

His words grated against his ears, voice tight and angry and again growing louder as he spoke.

Another glass was thrown, and shattered. Hitting the wall so close to Eris’s head that a piece flew at him, slicing across his cheek lightly. He barely moved.

The crystal thin enough, knife-like enough, that he felt the warmth of his blood start to slowly seep from his skin.

Like moisture collecting on the petal of a white poppy in the early morning dew when he sat in the meadows by the Forest House, Saydee’s head in his lap as he talked to the earth. A small reprieve from the chaos of the palace.

Eris was there, in his mind.

Petting his hounds grey coat as he whispered, just as he always did when the sun came over the horizon and woke for the day. Like he had since he was just a faeling sitting in his mothers lap as she did the same.

His mother had explained it so gently one morning, sat in the grass, about when the sun comes over the skyline to say good morning. Not to speak too loudly or too brash so that he didn’t startle the earth, because she too deserved kindness. The Mother.

So almost everyday for as long as he could remember, he sat in that meadow, lazing in the tall grasses as those vibrant hues of blue and orange and pink and yellow streaked across the sky— and he whispered to Her.

About his hopes and dreams that would never be fulfilled or sought after, talked of the life he wished to have. That he wished his own mother had. Asked for her days to be gentler, kinder, prayed on every wild dandelion he found, for someone to share his days with, to talk to— however boring.

And he had. He had his dogs, and he had the fields surrounded with the creeks that ran through their property, and he had the sky.

He wished he was there most of the time. So he created a place in his head, to escape in moments like this.

Acres of meadows, full of flowers and taller grass than he could dream of. Up to his hips, his bloodhounds disappearing beneath the blades as he strolled leisurely. Hands wading through the soft thicket. Sometimes he dreamed of others with him, his mother, Lucien, someone else.

Locked away that piece of himself to disappear into whenever being in his body became too much.

It’s where he had spent nearly fifty torturous years Under the Mountain, spending every waking moment protecting the female who had raised him for his father didn’t care to. Spending fifty years away from those grasslands and that beautiful savoy grandeur. His meadows.

Throwing stick after stick out into those pastures as he walked further and further, his best girl running every time he threw— chasing bunnies and jumping into the streams. Getting lost in his mind. When he knew it was morning, which was so very rare down in that dark and decrepit nightmare, he prayed. He prayed for some divine force to step in, for Her to save him and his family. To be kinder. The first time he cried and spoke his despair aloud, Feyre Archeron had come three days later.

Eris was deep in fern grasses as the blood dripped down his face, but he still did not move.

He hadn’t even taken his coat and finery off from Hewn City yet, having told his father he was coming from the lookout on the northern border. He didn’t bring attention to it.

He heard his fathers deep breath and the creaking of the chair behind his desk as he sat, maybe seeing reason now that the heady scent of his sons blood filled his study.

“You will go to Rhysand as soon as possible,” Beron started, pinching the bridge of his nose. Eris still didn’t look up, just blinked at the floor. “—do what you must. Find a way in, figure out what else those wretched girls took from us. I do not care if you kill or maim or whatever else takes your interest these days.”

His voice trailed off as if remembering something significant and Eris heard the wood groan again and then footsteps, his heart remaining steady despite the screaming that filled his head. Then he saw the polished toes of Beron’s shoes.

“You always were the smartest of my sons. So much like me, so brutal.”

Male pride laced those words. Eris wanted to throw up, he wanted to scream, and he did want to kill. He wanted to kill the man before him, wanted to kill the ruination that circled this court. That ripped its beauty from her chest, chewed it up, and spat it out.

But he did not move.

A hand gripped his chin, turning his face to the side and up. Eris let his eyes flick to his fathers face and saw the warning there.

“Where did you get this.” It wasn’t a question, Eris knew.

“I was playing with Saydee and tripped too close to a jagged rock, it cut me. It didn’t hurt.”

Beron released his chin if only to land a sharp slap on his other cheek and then immediately grabbed his face again. His grip burned, like molten ire, making the flesh of his cheeks dig into his teeth.

“Where did you get it.”

“I was practicing my swordsmanship with Brenton and he sliced me with his rapier, it was an accident. He got the proper punishment for hurting me.”

Beron released his son’s face and stepped back.

“Get out, don’t let your mother see you.”

Doubtless that the reason he wanted him gone was because he didn’t want his sons blood to drip onto those precious carpets.

Eris didn’t need to be told twice, so he walked. As calmly as he could until he got to his rooms, making sure to take the long way around and avoid where his mother was no doubt waiting by her own door to hear Eris’s footsteps walk by.

To know he was safe, or to know what his father did. Either way, he didn’t want her to see him like this.

Closing the door behind him, he finally loosed a breath, opening his eyes as he shucked off his jacket and draped it over the chaise by the hearth. Walking to his tray of decanters, lightly touching the blood on his face with one hand as he picked a bottle up in the other.

His scarred fingers came back crimson.

A slow boiling rage, like simmering sugar, filled his body. His muscles, gritting his teeth silently. Grip growing tight as he looked at that blood.

And then that was all he saw as the glass bottle shattered into the brick fireplace, sending the flames roaring and him stumbling back a few steps into the post of his bed.

He hadn’t noticed it was lit, vision glazed over.

He was breathing heavily, eyes wide as he watched the flames fulminate, casting an orange glow on his room and his face. So bright and wild he felt the heat from feet away as he watched the fire roar and gutter back down.

Eris thought that maybe he really wasn’t any better than the man that sired him at all.

Spring in Velaris was beautiful.

The mid-day sun warmed the air around the River House, a gentle breeze kissing Blair’s skin and ruffling through her curled hair.

She’d let her little sister braid it back this morning, a thin coronet that made a beautiful pleated flower on the back of her head. Though her loose bangs tickled her eyes, Blair thought she had looked rather pretty.

She wasn’t so outside of her body when she sat in the open air. And she felt… alright.

Though she would have preferred a fir to scale, as they allowed for easier climbing, but the willow she had found herself in made for a good view of Elain working in Feyre’s garden.

It was a welcome change from her window. Like there was no need to run away and hide in the forests of her mind, digging her own hands into the soul of the earth just to make sure her mind didn’t numb away.

She was almost laying down against the bark, the large trunk and spindling branches wide enough two people could have sat up here side by side. As uncomfortable as it may have been, the rough corking crust digging into wherever it touched through her pale yellow gown, it felt like home.

It’d been a week since Starfall at the House of Wind, almost a month since that all too brief introduction she had made to the world in Hewn City on Winter Solstice. Of Prythian’s world, at least.

Blair hadn’t expected anything for it, she had been there for a short half hour and had been… occupied the whole time.

Sometimes her skin still burned when she was alone. In the bath, when she stirred honey into her tea, late at night in the too cool sheets of her bed.

She’d felt her own since Hewn City, able to think and manage conversations, elating to Feyre and Elain and she quite enjoyed conversing with her little sisters now. But she still laid by the fire, night after night just to feel that warmth fill her.

But after that, after the surplus of gifts from their small gathering that followed, presents hadn’t stopped when the Solstice holiday ended— but they weren’t coming from her family.

Baskets and boards and chests and boxes were sent to Rhysand’s palace and then were brought to the House. Welcoming’s and courtiers from every place in Prythian it seemed, branching out to welcome her.

Well wishes, mostly. Some off-notes and letters, claiming that Blair Archeron’s beauty could be used to fix the rifts in this continent and between courts. That had been the most absurd one, a letter for Rhysand asking for her hand in marriage. He laughed as he read it to her, sitting by the window— knees tucked into her chest.

It angered her more than anything. That she was already a prize to be had, or that it was Rhys they were asking.

Slowly, as days passed and she spent more time outside breathing clear air, the anger grew. The realizations came in waves, of things she had missed, times where she should have spoke up and didn’t.

Resentment, frustration, shame, guilt.

She didn’t let it show, bottling it up and shoving it down. Killing the urges inside her to scream at everyone, to bellow and seeth and grow violent. Something so awake in her, gnashing and bloody teethed. The need to give into that voice in her head that told her to let it go.

That she needed to in order to go on, in order to have a sense of normalcy. That exploding was the only was to settle her bones. She felt particularly nasty towards Rhysand.

The betterment he had to achieve and grovel over, should grovel over, was stacked against the High Lord.

The anger was what took her the most, forcing her fingers to loosen the grip she had on her fork at dinner nightly as she listened to him ramble and laugh. Watched Feyre go on like she would not die having his child, closer and closer to being due.

She wanted to watch him bleed as her sister was going to.

Wanted to scream for all he had made Nesta do.

The entitlement.

But Blair buried it.

So she would glare to herself when he wasn’t looking, lip pulled back slightly and passed off as a twitch, before she took in what was sent as an attempt to woo her.

Blair had thought they were for Feyre in all honesty, before Cassian explained that it was bad luck. A few days ago when he walked with her along the Sidra— Elain had dragged her out and in return she made the Illyrian come with her— he had said it was a grim omen and wish of terrible luck to send an expecting mother gifts for a babe that hadn’t yet been born. To the fae at least.

She listened mindlessly. Noting the scent of her older sister that came from him in waves. She needed to talk to Nesta, and soon. A conversation was owed on both ends.

The thin parchment of the book she was reading scraped against the soft pads of Blair’s fingers as she leaned back against the large trunk of the willow.

Vines of cream wisteria flowing in the soft wind that sent the caps of her bell sleeves fluttering, watching Elain out of the corner of her eye as she dug her bare hands into the soil. Choosing not to use the enchanted gloves Lucien had gifted to her as she tended to the flower beds at the back of the house.

Despite the cool air surrounding Blair from the river flowing a few paces away, a warmth bloomed past her skin, not from the sun, but from something else, and her chest melted or sparked or roared as she saw a flash of deep auburn hair— walking towards where she was in the tree.

The second oldest Archeron’s brow furrowed so slightly. That scent— that heated mahogany and citrus, burning embers, floated to her on a soft wind and brushed through her hair in a soothing caress.

Eris’s hand skimmed along the brush of a white rose hedge as he strolled, his gait loose but strong. Blair kept her focus on the pages she was reading, but a sudden pounding in her heart had her unable to focus on any of the words.

She heard him approach, feet light and careless, she wouldn’t have heard it if she were still human. But with her new ears, the new senses she was still getting used to, she could.

The feet stopped, just under her, and Blair flipped the page. The thin and gauzy skirt of her dress draped and hung down the branch she lounged on, leg crossed over the other.

Eris cleared his throat then, and Blair could see his tall stature blurred in the peripheral of her vision. Hands tucked appropriately behind his back.

“I’m shocked Rhys let you come here, especially with my baby sister in her condition.” Blair said without lifting her head to look at him. Eris hid his smile by lowering his head. “Or should I be worried you’ve come to steal Nesta away? She’s not here, by the way.”

The words poured out of her mouth so quickly that Elain lifted her head in wonder, the same furrow as her older sister’s she’d seen play out in her face so many times. Rhys was standing with his arms crossed on the stone walkway when Elain looked to the back doors. Not pleased, but something willing.

“Now, smart, beautiful thing.” He tsked his tongue, amusement lacing every word. “I wanted to see you, and I told you that Nesta was not what I wanted anymore.”

Blair lifted her head at that, looking down at his wretchedly beautiful face and he smiled that wicked smile at her that spoke of pure sin. The level of her belief was in her eyes.

Whatever he offered that was big enough for Rhys to allow him to come to Velaris, she didn’t believe it would be just for her. Eris had given something to gain something— that’s what they all said of him.

“I told him I’d spoil our fun and tell my father of our plans or he could let me see you and I’d send a legion tomorrow for him to direct.” Eris added, as if reading her mind or face or body. She forced herself to keep looking at him.

“I could have met with you somewhere else.”

“Would you have? Left this place?” A raise of his brows.

Blair didn’t know, she didn’t know why she said it. Why her tongue just moved before she could think with him. Her eyes said as much and then a sudden, unknown, panic filled her and the life guttered so quickly from her eyes.

“It is safer here anyway.” Eris said lightly a few seconds later, followed by a quiet sigh.

There was a thin white gash along his cheek, almost healed, but it wasn’t there the last time she’d seen him. Blair remembered every inch of his face whether she wanted to or not. A face that followed her.

“No gift to try and sweep me into a marriage with you?” She said as gently as she could, face a bit flat.

“I thought I gave you one.” Eris smiled and at Blair’s squinted eyes, he continued. She closed her book and tossed it to the ground, narrowly missing him as it thudded to the ground. “Our dances, I did give you three I believe. Is that not the correct number in the mortal realm when a male is courting a female?”

The female blinked down at him, pausing as she swung her legs over the side of the branch, face drawing ever tighter and then she couldn’t control it.

It was the wording that sent her laughing she supposed. The sound rich and full of life, not empty and deserted or even strained, a song that skittered over Eris’s skin. Soft and silky as a fawn’s coat, gentle and easy as a gliding dove.

“I suppose,” Blair started, grunting slightly as she slid on her stomach— using the little strength she had in her arms to hold tight to the trunk she was dangling from. “—if we were in the mortal realm.” Blair panted slightly and Eris’s mouth formed a tight line as he watched the female struggling to climb back to the ground.

Her palms quickly formed indents from the grooves and bumps and ridges she clung to, nails digging into the wood.

“But,” Slipping slowly, trying to find a place for her dangling bare feet to land or stick to so she didn’t drop seven or eight feet right to the grass. The thin sleeves of her dress catching and snagging on sharp ribs in the bark. “—I so graciously have the rest of my immortal life ahead of me,”

“Would you…” Eris’s hands trail off as he watched, hands behind his back and head tilted.

“I have choices, to make—” Blair interrupted, toes splaying as she reached and reached for the next thing down but there was just nothing. “So I think it fair I take,” She huffed, hands slipping and sweating as she tried to grapple. “My,”

Eris raised an amused brow to her backside, arms crossing over his chest as he just watched. Her full body dangling there and then Blair yelped, right hand slipping and then she was falling with a gasp.

Eris was there a second later, large hands firmly gripping her waist as her knees bent over something. Scratching up her hands as she went, skin ripping on the rough bark and she grappled for anything. Body twisting.

It was Eris who caught her, who she tangled herself onto so she wouldn’t slam against the ground. Panting, heart beating, arms around his neck before she looked at him.

Blue, rust-flecked eyes met amber ones.

“Time.” She whispered, staring at his face. He’d caught her. She couldn’t tell if it was her pulse she could feel inside her hand, or his, as it held to the junction between his neck and shoulder. His eyes flicked down.

“Yellow was a choice, my dear Blair.” She scrambled from his arms, dropping another foot before touching the ground as she stood on her own again.

“I like yellow.” She spoke quietly, brushing her hands along her dress and halting when it streaked the fabric with a dirty red. Looking up at him with a breath, she crossed her arms instead.

“Beautiful as a rare star, then.”

Blair rolled her eyes.

“What is it you want, Eris?”

The male nearly fell to his knees at the look in her eyes, the sound of his name on her tongue for the first time.

Out loud, that is. He’d rewatched her beautiful lips play with it in his head for the past month, over and over. Kept it for himself, for when he was alone or bored or…

Eris feigned a pout.

“No polite courtier? I just saved you, my fair damsel.” He said, face serious until he smiled again and Blair started walking back towards the house. Rhys mouth twisted into a satisfied smirk as he watched.

“I do not need saving, the worst that would have happened was a few scratches or a bruise. I would have lived.” Even if she didn’t particularly care to. She didn’t say that out loud, though. But the despair seeped into something, she didn’t care enough to stop and think about the feeling.

“Mm,” He hummed, following behind her. “I suppose so.” He wanted to grab her, to touch and feel her beneath the flesh of his hands just because. Something inside his chest dragging him along behind her, he was not himself.

Blair just kept walking, right up the stones and the marble stairs off the back of the house, feet padding to the doors. Eris stopped at the steps where Rhys made him halt.

“Don’t let them hold you.” Eris called and she looked over her shoulder just briefly before flinging the doors open and disappearing inside the house that was warded off. Eris couldn’t follow after her if he wanted to.

“You saw her. For whatever reason you needed, she clearly did not have an interest in the same.” Rhys sighed, stepping in front of Elain subconsciously as Eris stood there— still looking into the House. “Now leave my city before I kill you, you know not to speak of this place to anyone.”

Eris was still staring after her when he disappeared in a rush of wind and warm light.

Elain looked back at the tree where her sister and the male had come through moments ago, only to find a particular trail of higher grass where Blair had walked and suddenly grown dandelions were blooming.

From the slam of the back door seconds later and the vacant yard that Elain was now left alone in, nobody else had noticed.

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#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #eris vanserra x oc #eris vandaddy #pro eris vanserra #blair archeron #feyre archeron #nesta archeron #elain archeron #rhysand #cassian #Azriel #azriel shadowsinger #lord of bloodshed #autumn court #night court #Prythian #a court of silver flames #acosf

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