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ceilidho · 4 months

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prompt: Ghost only takes you half-seriously when you say you want to see other people. He has just the man in mind. tags: dubcon; threesome; anal (2.5k)

He doesn’t so much as twitch when you stumble over your words in an effort to get it out.

“I don’t think this is working,” you say, hands clenched into trembling fists at your sides. “I think we should start seeing other people.”

The only bit of it that Ghost really pays attention to is the fact that you decided to make this little announcement while he’s in the middle of taking apart and cleaning his gun at the kitchen table. His little spitfire girl. Not a lick of fear in you, just a fistful of attitude and snark. The attitude’s ensconced now in your trepidation, a bit smothered under it, nervousness a clear trill in your voice, making it warble, but it shows itself in the downward slant of your brows. Delightful girl.

“That right?” he grunts, jamming the lubricated cotton mop into the bore of the gun. You flinch at the sudden movement, nervous eyes trained on his hands. Ghost makes a note to apologize with his mouth later on.

“Yes,” you croak, then cough to clear your throat. “I’ve, um…I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I think it’ll be better for—for both of us. It’s just…it’s not working out.”

The cigarette dangling from between his lips stinks up the room. Poor girl, he thinks pityingly when you scrunch up your nose and eye it resentfully. Always trying to get him to quit. It’s just shit luck for you that he’s never been good at quitting things, at letting anything go. Everything he’s ever lived through clings to his skin like smoke.

He ashes it out in the little turquoise ceramic pot on the table, a trinket he’d once picked up in Tala'a Kebira years ago while in Morocco on some other business. You look marginally less irked with the cig put out, but that just means that more of his attention can focus squarely on you, which leaves you a bit wide-eyed under his stare.

“For a while, hm?” Ghost asks. It comes out teasingly, if only to him. The lilt in his voice is a tricky one to catch.

You nod; the note must have slipped through your hands like smoke. “There’s a girl I found online that’s studying abroad right now. Offered to sublet me her room while I look for a place. I thought maybe, um…maybe tomorrow I’d go.”

“Don’t worry about all of that,” he says, already dismissing the conversation from his mind. “Won’t be back for another week anyway—no reason for you to run off if I’m not even around.”

“Oh.” You shift from side to side, thinking it over. “I guess. How long will you be gone?”

“A week. Two weeks tops.” Plenty of time for him to sort out this mess. Figure out what exactly caused you to get all jumpy and eager to try out other people.

He smiles internally. Little bird probably just can’t stand how often he’s away, poor thing. It’d be enough to make any girl upset—the constant leaves of absence, gone months without being able to send word, showing up bruised and bloody on the doorstep only to have you fall to pieces trying to put him back together.

There are options though. He’s not opposed to adding someone new either—in fact, he has just the man in mind.

Ghost has been holding Johnny back because he always thought you preferred to just be with one man (and Christ, the whining he’d had to deal with from Johnny, always begging to see you or begging Ghost for even just your panties, anything at all because he was so desperate and Ghost wouldn’t let him have you), but now?

Now there’s no reason to hold Johnny by the collar when he comes over for dinner. Now there’s no reason to kick Johnny from under the table when he leans just a bit too close to you when you’re sitting down to eat, eyes locked on the glimpse of your chest peeking out of your shirt and damn near drooling on it. Now there’s no reason to listen to Johnny jack himself off to the point of tears while trying to get some shut eye on a mission, the only crumpled up photo that Ghost had ever allowed him to take cupped close to his face.

He really pitied the poor mutt before, no pretty girl at home, his only crush being his superior’s girl. But Ghost is magnanimous—he’s a generous man. If you want to see other people, he has the perfect puppy for you to play with.

When you smile, still a bit unsure, he has to smother a grin. “Okay. I’ll stay ‘till then and look.”

The look Johnny gives him when he brings it up is equal parts disbelief and fevered need. “Say that again, Lt?”

“You’re coming over after we wrap this shit up. Bird’s been asking about a third.”

He chokes, scrambling to his feet. The temporary base is damp, always on the frigid side of things so Johnny’s still in uniform for the most part, the fabric rustling in his haste to get up off his bed. It’s not a place either of them are eager to spend more time in than absolutely necessary. The lack of space means that the two of them are made to bunk together as always, sharing a room with two cots and a small en suite, the tub still wet from Ghost’s shower.

“Christ, yer serious? No joke, sir?”

Johnny pushes his head back into Ghost’s hand when Ghost reels him by the hair, dropping a firm close-mouthed kiss onto the centre of his forehead through the fabric of the mask. “She was clear about it. Why? Gettin’ cold feet on me now?”

“No, sir,” Johnny protests, shaking his head as much as he can in Ghost’s grip, eyes shimmering a bit. “I can bring over a bottle o’ wine if ye like. Somethin’ fancy to set the mood.”

Their closeness is not unusual; Johnny’s always been a tactile man, favouring touch over words. One of their small similarities; their shared modes of existing in the world. There’s a line in the sand where you’re concerned that Ghost has been clear on, but he’s used to always having a hand somewhere on Soap, keeping him close. Now, he gets to keep him even closer.

His bird really has the best ideas.

Ghost snorts, knocks their heads together. “Just bring yourself, pup.”

He ignores the way Johnny’s breath hitches, the way he hurries into the bathroom and slams the door behind him the second Ghost lets go. The frantic eager sounds from behind the door when the water runs, only muffling the loudest of his groans. He probably had his dick choked in his fist the second the door shut, a thick nut swirling down the drain within the first five minutes.

They ship out the next morning, exhausted from the week’s work. No amount of sleep out in the field is ever good enough, especially not in cots barely built to accommodate men of their size. Especially not Ghost. Johnny dozes off on his shoulder in the plane, sinking into a deep sleep to compensate for the hours spent tossing and turning the night before. Ghost uses the flight to get a headstart on his paperwork, enough so that he’s not held up on base when they land back home.

He doesn’t give you a heads up that he’s home earlier than planned; no need to give you enough time to pack a bag and schlep it over to that place you’d found. It’s better for everyone if you’re caught a bit off guard, just a little frazzled. Ghost’s not entirely unsympathetic—he knows you’ll overthink things if he gives you any time to yourself.

It’s endearing the way you gape up at him, eyes flitting between him and Johnny, when he finally makes it home. For the few times that Johnny’s been over, it’s not an everyday thing; his visits are always planned and strictly timed, Ghost monitoring him to make sure he doesn’t overstep his bounds. Seeing him with Ghost in your foyer must be strange, must put you on edge.

“Simon, you didn’t tell me you were—” you start and then pause, swallowing. You look over his shoulder at Johnny, smile stiff, uncomfortable. “Hi Johnny.”

You’re always a good girl, not wanting to argue in front of company.

“Heel,” Ghost says, steel in his voice when Johnny almost lurches from his side. The other man glances over at him with wild eyes, almost on the brink of disobeying, but he holds in the end and stays put. Ghost’s eyes soften when he looks back at you. “Have a nice week, pet?”

“Yes—sorry, I’m glad you’re home safe,” you say, flustered, taking his back from him to drop in the usual place in the hall. “I, um—” again, you eye Johnny nervously, unsure of how much you can say in front of him, “—I found a place…for…you know.”

“‘Course,” Ghost agrees, shucking his boots at the door and giving Johnny a shake by his coat until he does the same. “Missed you too, pet. C’mere.”

He muffles your protests with his mouth when he stalks forward and pulls you in for a wet kiss, rolling the mask up and off at the same time. You’re a bit stiff in his arms until he slips you some tongue and the resistance leaks out of you, helpless the second he gets his hands on you. Your eyes are still a bit misty when he pulls away, fingers clutched in the collar of his shirt like a reflex. Second nature to cling to him. His chest puffs up at the gesture.

“Thought about what you said the other week, bird, and you’re right.”

You blink, coherence coming back to you, shaking your head to divest yourself of the momentary confusion. “I am?”

“‘Course. Smartest girl in the world, isn’t she, Johnny?” Ghost asks over his shoulder, slipping a hand into your hair at the same time to hold you in place. It makes you frown, his actions not mirroring his words.

“Aye, sir,” Johnny hums, nodding eagerly. Boots off, he stumbles forward, crowding around you from the other side, not realizing that they’ve backed you into a wall until it presses against you, trapping you in place. “Bonnie ‘n sharp as a whip. Always thought so, sir.”

“That’s right,” he agrees, tightening his fingers in your hair until you squeal, brows furrowing in that way they do when you’re right on the precipice of pain and relief. “Only a smart, brave girl would ask for what she needs. You’re just lonely when I’m away, isn’t that right, pet?”

“I’m—I’m what?” you splutter, hands planted on Ghost’s chest, trying to push him away to no avail. He hardly notices it.

“Go on, Johnny,” Ghost murmurs. “Since she asked so nicely. Give her a kiss.”

That’s all his mutt needs to hear.

You huff and puff with the strain it takes to take Ghost’s cock after a week and a half away.

You’re always tighter when he comes back, an effort to work you up to taking him again; he lets Johnny get you prepped this time, slobbering all over your pussy in his eagerness, plugging you with three fingers before you’re even close to ready. He gets off on the way you howl, rutting his cock into the sheets of your bed while he keeps you pinned by a thick arm over your stomach.

Ghost has to scruff him after that. He takes over, running a soothing tongue over where it hurts until you cry big, fat tears and come a couple times. He makes sure you’re taken care of before it gets tough. You’re mindless by the time he moves off you to retrieve the lube from the bedside drawer, only coming back to yourself when he turns you over onto your belly and spreads the cheeks of your ass. It unwinds something in his chest to hear you yelp when he pushes a finger into your ass, like coming home.

This is why he does what he does: to get this when the job is done.

It’s not often he gets to do this, usually too big for you to take comfortably in your ass. Johnny’s not that much smaller, in fairness, so he works you up to two and then three fingers before lying down on the bed and pulling you over him. Your legs tremble when you straddle him, fingers digging into his chest when he lowers you onto his cock for the first time in a week.

“There we go,” he says, grunting when you pull his chest hair a little. “That’s a good girl. We just about done crying now?”

Ghost smiles when you shake your head stubbornly, eyes still filled with tears. “This isn’t what I meant, Simon.”

“You can cuss me out when Johnny’s done, alright? That make you happy?”

He almost chuckles when Johnny clambers back onto the bed in his haste to get his hands back on you, his pants still hanging off an ankle until he gives it a shake once his palms fit over your waist.

“Slowly, pup,” Ghost cautions, reaching around to spread a cheek. He coos when you flinch, whispering for you to relax.

Johnny’s eyes roll back into his head when he pushes in, hips stuttering forward until Ghost snarls and he stops, letting out a deep, shuddering breath to calm himself down. Even for Ghost, it’s intense; you tighten around him when Johnny pushes in, only letting up when he cups your cheek and draws you down for a kiss, loosening you up with his tongue.

“Sir, I can—fuck, fuck, fuck,” Johnny whines, back curving when he drops his head. “She’s so fuckin’ tight, I can—swear I can feel you, sir.”

He’s not wrong. Ghost swears he can feel it himself, Johnny’s cock in his pretty bird’s ass while his is stuffed deep in your cunt. You pant through the stretch, words half-croaked out, unintelligible. It’s better that way. He loves listening to you sing, but you’ve been in a right mood these past couple of weeks. Just needed a good lay to sort you out.

“Simon,” Johnny begs, thrusting forward until he bottoms out in you, making your pulse skyrocket. “I cannae breathe.”

“Yes, you can,” Ghost says dismissively, wiping at the drool slipping out of the corner of your mouth. “Give ‘er a sec and then you can move.”

“So, so, so hot. ‘M gonna come—”

He reaches behind you to wrap a hand around Johnny’s throat, giving it a squeeze. Johnny’s eyes bulge. “You don’t get to come until she does, pup. That’s all the time, got it?”

He doesn’t pay any mind to how Johnny nods and mumbles his little yes, sirs after that—he’s a grown man, maybe not as grown as Ghost, but man enough to compose himself until you stop trembling and sweating so hard.

It’d been a mite difficult to wrangle you into bed. He understands. He’d let you talk yourself red in the face about this not being what you meant by ‘seeing other people’, but Ghost hears the said and the unsaid. You wouldn’t be still in his house a whole week later if you really wanted to leave.

“Alright, pet,” he grins, running his thumb over your bottom lip until it drops open and you let him run it over your teeth. “Hang on now.”

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #soap x reader #simon ghost riley #cod simon riley #soap mactavish #ghost x reader #ghost cod #ghost/reader #ghost/soap/reader #ghoap x reader

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frmisnow · 3 months

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˙✧˖ ?! — MORNING MISTAKES. - SUGGESTIVE

— ‧₊˚ — ☕️ : "oh wow, i just knew i was forgetting something when i leaving ??"

summary. your boyfriend forgets his coffee for practice on purpose every day just so you "happen" to come across it and bring it to him -- what if on one particular day it's hard for him to let you leave the practice room?

warnings/includes. idol! jungkook x f! reader, needy kook (rly rly doesn't want you leaving him), kinda fluffy?? idk he's so dear to me, also kinda SUGGESTIVE tho, pretty new relationship hinted?, making out, cursing, ass slapping/touching

god you felt like you were in highschool again.

that silly little tingling feeling in your tummy as you made your way through the large hybe building, the receptionist just giving you a quick glance with that familar smile that she has been giving you ever since kook has been making his annual 'slip-offs' or as he calls it: "morning mistakes"

i mean- he was so painfully obvious about it, every time you entered the black dance practice room that instantly made you feel small, his background dancers started giggling somewhere in the background sometimes even pushing him towards you, apropos him- who was always smiling like an idiot, like he just got caught red-handed on an accident yet at the same time his acting always being horribly poor.

this time when you came into the room he was immediately at the door, like he had been studying the clock analysing when you might show up, playing with his left lip ring, eyes wide doed as he pretended to be shocked at the coffee in your hand, "oh wow, i just knew i was forgetting something when i leaving"

before you could even think of what to respond, he kissed you so gently, his hands cupping your face with so much softness as the dancers cheered in the back, he hid his head in your nape like drunk, chuckling till pushing the both of you out the room, closing the door behind, the noises now muffled yet audible.

he kissed you once more, like he had been starved of your presence and lips for days as if he hadn't loved you in any way physically possible the night before, robbing you of any sleep.

pushing him away from your body, his hands which were just beginning to travel over you being seperated just for a split second, "you stink"

his mouth opened and closed again, that faint smirk he always did when you said any of your stupid comments plastered all over his face when he shrugged casually, "probably all the sweat from dancing with all those girls earlier, 3d is really perfor-"

you shutted him up right then & there and truthfully he was probably expecting it as his arms wrapped around your frame, greedy hands squeezing and gently kneading wherever they could - in this case your ass.

"don't do that jackass-" you mumbled against his lips, taking his hands away from your skin when in response he made that instant sound of disapproval, tiny 'tsk tsk' from his direction recognizable.

"my hands just slipped, i just had to- y'know," while he was speaking his hands 'accidently' moving to your tits, getting pushed away by yours instantly, "that's just how my hands work, you wouldn't get it" he rolled his eyes for comedic effect but whined as you guided his hands once again to himself and the choreographer shouted something something about his name VERY loudly.

he pretended not to hear a thing as he kissed you like he wouldn't be able to see you for years, like on the titanic, like forces where doing everything to seperate the both of you - which they kind of were, considering the choreographer was still yelling, footsteps approaching.

you squeezed his ass jokingly, slapping it quickly as you ran away from him, the second the choreographer stepped outside the door - immediately beginning to scold kook as all he could do is watch over your figure which was gradually getting smaller and smaller once you finally stepped into the escalator, blowing him a final dramatic kiss through the air, smiling yourself.

your ass would be getting the attention it really deserved tonight, that's what he promised himself for sure.

#bts ff #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts imagines #bts x you #jungkook smut #jungkook #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #kpop smut #jungkook bts #jungkook ff #kpop ff #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts x fem!reader

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organicxslime · 6 months

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☆kissing you (gojo, nanami, toji, megumi, yuji, ino)☆

GOJO kisses you like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. He’s suave about it, wrapping an arm around your waist and giving you his signature pretty-boy smirk before leaning in and pressing his lips against yours. He’s passionate, but not too forceful, and he has a way of flustering you despite having done this a thousand times. Occasionally (read: almost every single time) he’ll get a bit frisky, taking you in both arms and dipping you slightly as he gently catches your plump bottom lip in his teeth or swipes his tongue along the edge of it. The experience is dizzying, and by the end of it you’re always bright red from ear to ear.

NANAMI's kisses are more a bit more chaste. They're best described as sweet - he's not trying to overwhelm you with passion, but you can feel the quiet adoration and his underlying love for you in even the quickest pecks. The best ones are when he's just gotten home from work, not even bothering to shed his coat or shoes before seeking you out. When he finds you, inevitably curled up on the couch or working on something in the kitchen, he'll envelop you in a warm embrace from behind before gently slipping a hand underneath your jaw to cup your face, softly pressing his lips to yours as you melt into each other.

TOJI's kisses are rough. Gentleness doesn’t come easy to a man like Toji, but he’s not trying to throw you around, either. When he kisses you, it’s pure dominance, smashing his lips against yours and squeezing your waist between two large hands. You’ll typically have to initiate, but the second he knows it’s coming he’s taken over the situation and made you his once again. Your favorite is when his tough-guy demeanor has softened a bit and he allows you to sidle up next to him, big doe eyes silently pleading as you look up at him, urging him to take you in his arms and kiss you. When he complies, it’s much more reserved, almost gentle, and you don’t think you’d mind leaving his more forceful displays of affection in the past if this is what’s been available the whole time.

YUJI’s kisses are messy and unpracticed, but he's clearly so adorably excited to be with you that you don't mind. You’ll have to lead while he finds his footing, but once he’s figured out how to position his head, he’s softly planting lingering pecks on you, unable to get rid of the smile that stretches his cheeks so taut that it almost hurts. He’ll seek you out anywhere, anytime - it doesn’t matter if you cross his mind for a fraction of a second, he’s immediately seeking you out with the intent of pulling you into a quiet corner. He’ll brush your hair out of your face, flashing you a lopsided smile of nervous excitement before leaning into you, kissing you deeply before pulling away to get a look at your flushed cheeks and grin before diving right back in.

MEGUMI's kisses are shy, almost hesitant. He's the type of person that has to warm up to you every time it happens, starting off stiff with an air of uncertainty before eventually melting into you the way he wants to. He's not the type to be all over you all the time, but you can always count on a kiss goodnight from him. You'll both be curled up in bed, ready to pass out for the night, but he always makes sure to brush his lips against yours for a lingering kiss before the two of you fall asleep. It's warm and soft, and although he usually acts stoic and unfeeling, you're giddy that you get to know the real, unguarded version of him through these sweet little moments.

INO’s kisses are a bit boisterous - not because he's trying to be, but because he's over the moon to be able to do this with you at all. He usually tries to be slick about it, sweet talking you and creeping a hand up the small of your back beforehand, but he’s easily flustered and tends to melt into you the minute your lips touch. He’s eager, smashing his lips against yours in a way that makes it all too clear how much he wants you, and when he pulls away for some oxygen you can see the deep blush blooming across his cheeks. Sometimes (usually after a mission or when he’s exhausted) you’ll get a softer, even sweeter Ino, where your lips will meet with feather-light touches, warm and soft and impossibly saccharine, and when he comes up for air he’ll press his forehead against yours, with him meeting your eyes with a look of absolute adoration.

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #nanami kento #nanami x reader #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #yuji itadori #yuji x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #ino takuma #ino x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk headcanons #these might be a little ooc but I’m still violently ill and trying to get back into my writing groove

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anantaru · 6 months

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DAY 22 — MIRROR SEX

kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3

𖧡 — including — gepard, jing yuan

𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, mirror sex, very messy, dom gepard for once omg who am i?, prone bone, doggy style

𖧡 — GEPARD

gepard could swear on it, truly, but there was nothing that turned him on just as much as this current setting did— besides the fact that he can bend you on all fours with such ease while recklessly rutting into you, his biceps flexing when he drags you over his cock, his balls repeatedly smacking over the plush of your ass but even better, he can watch it unfold, together with you, from a much more different point of view.

"fuck— fuck!" he groans before slanting his body forward to hover himself over your figure, and due to the sudden change in position and the heaviness of his entire weight dropped on you, your hands and legs instantly give up as you're squeezed in between the bed and his looming body, making it effortless for gepard to fuck you even deeper now, thrusting his hips in a frenzied rhythm— with one palm perking your ass up a little while the other finds warm solace against your neck, his fast heaves hot and loud above you, all the while you clenched and quivered around him.

you knew gepard was starting to lose it the more his breathing changed and his thrusts would grow erratic. he bit down hard on his tongue, tasting a film of metal between his teeth as he forces himself to postpone his orgasm— because he always needed to make you cum first, it's a given and he cannot forgive himself if he'd ever fail at that.

from the moment his muscles rippled from excitement, he has you throbbing and pulsing all over his length as he works his hips on you, your eyes repeatedly blinking towards the prancing mirror memorizing the entire thing and reflecting it on you— the immediately responsiveness of gepard's trace on you, how quickly you gave yourself to him with your face squished against the soaked pillows or even better, how your slickness had coated his lower stomach entirely and claimed him, the muscled lines on his torso melting into your softness when gepard slips and slides through your ragged walls.

you feel yourself trapping a hotness on your skin, despite that, gepard wouldn't falter in his shoves and neither would you want him to, practically salivating over the feeling of his dripping erection fusing with you and his musky scent all over you— your hips, tired but being kept up as he continues, never growing fatigued of your warmness engulfing him, coaxing out those sweet, soothing noises from your lips as gepard turns his head again to the mirror glowing right back, his followed groan lust-deepened and greedy.

𖧡 — JING YUAN

now that a mirror, of considerable size, was collecting all positions of your bodies fondling with one another, jing yuan was permeating of tension and pervading desire, the very kind of desire that manifested without warning and trapped the rationality of his mind, swallowed and wrapped him inside a husk until he's fucking you like he absolutely hates you as filthy moans continuously echo from past your parted mouth.

the greed in his eyes made you weak when you dare to catch a glimpse of yourself, his hips tirelessly grinding against your plush ass that you're able to see how your translucent arousal had been sticking you both together, faint ropes of white connecting your figures as jing yuan made sure that you were able to feel each and every inch of his thick erection dragging across the ridges of your tight cunt, filling you up completely until he was buried balls deep into your heat— and you wanted him close forever, no reason would make you separate yourself from him.

"jing yuan—!" you started to cry out, accompanied by a chorus of muddled syllables tumbling out over your parted lips, arching your back so deeply that you were afraid it'll actually snap into two.

though jing yuan, for one, smirks at you in one approved expression before burying his face in your shoulder, clinging on your skin as much as he could as you flutter over his girth, your creamy walls pummeling over his reactive skin as he swore he saw stars for a minute straight, his brain rewiring and replacing all regular notions with blissful ecstasy.

"just look at you, fuck—" he groans against your neck, "Such a sight to behold," his voice crackS and ugh, jing yuan was so fixated, borderline obsessed, with how your tits looked in the mirror, how they bounced in tandem with his fast slaps into your greedy pussy and how you quivering, sobbed and pulsed around his length without an inch of shame, your hot liquids gripping him like a vice.

#hsr x reader #hsr smut #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail smut #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan smut #gepard x reader #gepard smut #hsr x you #hsr drabbles #honkai star rail x you #kinktober #honkai star rail drabbles #hsr gepard x reader #hsr jing yuan x reader #hsr jing yuan smut #hsr gepard smut #Gepard x you #jing yuan x you

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bidisastersanji · 6 months

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Was thinking about French gendered terms and Zoro trying to suss out if Sanji’s into men and I had some thoughts and oops now i wrote a thing so here you go:

In the early days Zoro drives himself nuts trying to figure out if Sanji bats for his team too or not. He listens in intently whenever the conversation steers the cook towards talk of his past dalliances, but, just his luck, none of the words used indicate their gender. And there ain’t no fucking way in hell he’s asking him or anyone on the crew directly, lest they immediately understand how bad he has it for the stupid cook.

He bides his time, surely someday he’ll slip up and mention something about the people he’s slept with, right? And sure enough one day, at a feast, a drunken Usopp starts asking what people’s types are. His face still schooled into a nonchalant, neutral expression, he does his best to hide how desperately he waits for Sanji to speak up about his type, only to once again be met with more general terms about people- someone with a kind heart, dependable, an equal… he’s so concentrated on trying to pick out any gendered terms he doesn’t notice the weird look Nami throws his way at each new descriptor in Sanji’s list of desirable traits.

He’s always known Sanji speaks French, finding it endearing whenever the cook curses (even at him), whenever he goes into small little rants to himself, or the face he makes when he can only think of a word in French, rapidly snapping his fingers until it comes back to him. But it’s only when they get to a town where Sanji starts speaking to a vendor excitedly about his produce that he realizes just how much this thing, this endearing thing that’s always been there, truly affects him, and his face burns at how different the cook’s voice sounds when he actually speaks it, how enchantingly low and throaty the foreign syllables ring in his ears.

Attached to living another day, he decides that stealing a book from Robin is a bad idea, and resigns himself to ask her directly for a favour. He swallows his pride and asks if she can lend him a French learning book and a dictionary, curious as to whether he can learn it a bit, and understand whatever the hell Sanji keeps cursing and muttering about around him, and what kinds of insults he’s been throwing his way. With her ever mysterious smile plastered on her face, a chain of Robin’s arms retrieve two books from her library and hand them to him. “Do come to me if you have any questions, Mr. Swordsman. My French is pretty good if I do say so myself.”

He’s out of the room, red as a beet, before she even finishes that sentence.

Learning the curse words comes to him unsurprisingly quickly given how often he hears a litany of « putain de merde », « fait chier! » and « enfoiré! » spilling from the blonde’s distracting mouth.

He’s very happily surprised when he learns that French is apparently a heavily gendered language- and that he can glean someone’s gender just from whether the adjectives applied to the subject are masculine or feminine. Now if the stars aligned and the cook would talk about his love life in French…

Zoro starts by going through the basic first chapters, taking great pains to hide and quickly dissimulate it in his haramaki anytime someone walks in on him- especially the witch. It definitely changes his usual routine on his watch in the crows nest, he muses to himself.

Weeks, months pass, and he advances further in the lessons, his vocabulary slowly growing, while he often goes to his dictionary for the more… colorful insults Sanji throws his way. He never says a word of French himself, not knowing how he could even justify knowing any without looking suspicious, and pretty sure his pronunciation would be way off anyways. But he starts to really enjoy it, being able to understand even a tenth of the things Sanji thinks he can say without the crew (save Robin) understanding.

And then Saobaody happens. And now he doesn't have time to think about learning French, not if he wants to get strong enough. Not if he wants to protect his crew.

He's at the table with Mihawk and Perona when his mentor asks for the salt (Passez moi le sel, s'il vous plait), and he executes himself without thinking. A quiet settles over the room and he looks up to see those intense red eyes boring into him, unnerving as ever.

"You speak French?"

"Not really," he grumbles, not wanting more excuses to think of the shitty cook, and his shitty cooking, and his stupid curly brow.

"Then you will. Consider this a natural continuation of my trying to beat some manners into your brutish mind."

Two years later, and he can't wait for dartbrow to show up. His pronunciation may still be shit, but he can't wait to use his newfound skill to his advantage.

With his now solidified grasp of the language, he slowly begins to understand that what he at first though was a mistake on his part- that he must’ve missed a part of a sentence, or mixed up some words- was not an error at all. It turns out, some of the French things that Sanji yells at him aren’t insults at all.

In fact… they’re sometimes downright complimentary.

And that's definitely a problem for Zoro, who now not only needs to keep pretending that he doesn’t know what Sanji is saying, but needs to pretend he doesn’t understand it when Sanji screams at him that he has a “stupidly pretty face” or that his “tits are even bigger than Nami’s and how is that even fair” . He doesn't know what to make of it.

And then one day… the stars align.

It’s another post battle party, and the cook has been drinking a bit more than usual, a tightly gripped glass of wine in his left hand, a cigarette in his right. Zoro is nursing his very own barrel of Ale when he hears the conversation turn to more gossipy topics, as it usually does the further into the night they are.

“Chopper was really into that nurse on Zou, wasn’t he?” Usopp starts to poke fun at the crew’s youngest member, laughing as the reindeer turns all red and tries to deny it.

“I mean it makes sense that she’d be his type! Right Nami?”

Nami nods at him, grinning wickedly. “Yeah, not all of us can be into rich little blonde girls can we?”

“You’re right, some of us are into rich blue-haired princesses,” he shoots back.

"At least I had the balls to do something about it before I left her island-"

Zoro is already tuning them out when Sanji sits down next to Robin just a few feet away, across from him and the campfire, his tongue loosened from a few too many refills and unconsciously reverting to his native tongue.

"Ils ont de la chance, ces deux là." he gestures to Usopp and Nami. (They're lucky, these two.)

Robin smiles at the cook, wordlessly prompting him to continue his thoughts.

"Qu'est ce que je donnerais pour pouvoir avoir quelque chose de plus qu'un coup d'un soir." Sanji sighs wistfully, lighting his cigarette. (What I wouldn't give to have something more than a one night stand.")

Robin chuckles. "Ne sont-ils pas satisfaisants?" (Are they not satisfying?)

At this point Zoro has tuned everything out, intensely focused on hearing what the blonde has to say, and not at all feeling a small churn of jealousy in his stomach for whoever shared Sanji's bed. His heart initially skips a beat at the plural masculine pronoun ('ils') used by Robin before remembering its actual neutrality in this context, as it's referring to the ""one night stands", a masculine word. Damnit. French is so dumb.

"Tu sais bien que je ne dirais jamais de mal à propos des belles demoiselles qui ont bien voulu m'accorder ne serait-ce qu'un baiser ou une étreinte. J'ai de la chance rien que d'avoir pu exister en leur présence."

(You very well know I'd never say a bad word about any of the beautiful ladies who've been kind enough to give me even a kiss or an embrace. I'm lucky just to have existed in their presence.)

Zoro feels his heart drop, a heavy feeling settling in his stomach. He's always known the pervert cook has been into women. Why was this confirmation hitting him the way it was? His eye darts up at his two crewmates, confirming that only Robin has noticed his eavesdropping. She opens her mouth to say something but Sanji continues, the glow of the flames dancing against his flushed skin beautifully.

"Et dans mon état normal tu sais que, par respect pour les sensibilités d'une dame, je ne te divulge pas beaucoup de détails sur ceux qui font l'affaire le temps d'une nuit. "

(And in my normal state you know that, out of respect for a lady's sensibilities, I don't divulge many details about those who do the trick for a night.)

Ceux. That's a masculine word for "those", isn't it? Zoro shakily takes another sip of his drink.

The archeologist's smile widens. "Oh, ne te fait pas de soucis pour mes sensibilités. Je brûle d'envie d'en savoir plus, et ne m'épargne pas les détails..."

(Oh, please don't worry about my sensibilities. I'm burning to know more, and don't spare me the details...)

"Je ne suis que ton humble serviteur...si ça peut te faire plaisir" (I'm but your humble servant…if it pleases you). Sanji's cheeks seem a tad more flushed than before. "En vrai ce n'est pas qu'ils ne sont pas satisfaisants...c'est qu'il ne sont jamais... assez."

(It's not that they're not satisfying…it's that they're never...enough.)

"Ah? Et que recherches tu? Qu'est ce qui serait..."assez"?"

(Ah? And what are you looking for? What would be… "enough"?)

The cook exhales another cloud of smoke, and nervously looks around. His eyes settle on Zoro, and indecision flits across his eyes for a second before continuing. Zoro can feel his gaze, can almost make out the deliciously unfocused expression on the blonde's face in his peripheral vision as he continues speaking French. His heart feels like it might beat out of his ribcage.

"Lui." (Him.)

Zoro forgets how to breathe.

Part 2 up now , and part 3 part 4

#zoro x sanji #zosan #zosan fic #this was SUPPOSED TO BE A LITTLE TEXT POST #and then #AND THEN THIS HAPPENED #should I continue this #let me know in the tags #sanji x zoro #i can say french is dumb because i am #i have so many more thoughts about french speaking sanji #share yours with me pleaaaseee #zoro learns French #zoro learns french fic

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sttoru · 7 months

Text

♯ 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄.

love: |luv| - n. 1. an intense affection for another person based on familial or personal ties; 2. a deep tenderness, affection and concern felt for a person with whom one has a relationship with. featuring . . . toji fushiguro x fem!reader.

02.34AM. . . toji grumbles some profanity under his breath as he walks into your bedroom, only to find you already asleep, hugging your plushies — one between your knees, the other held tightly to your chest.

“hah. ain’t ya the one that said you’d stay up f’me?” the assassin whispers towards no one in particular. he removes his black shirt and disregards it on the floor with a low grunt — letting his sweaty skin breathe after the job he completed.

toji walks towards your side of the bed and hovers over your body that was curled up on the covers. you seemed to have fallen asleep without it being your intention, he guesses by the fact that you weren’t under the covers despite it being chilly.

and by the sight of your phone on the carpet beneath you. probably slipped from your hand.

“. . . y’re weird.”

the words spill from his lips in a quiet whisper. toji just cannot fathom it; why would you go through such lengths to stay up and await his return? you were clearly tired and yet still tried your best to keep awake to greet him — only for your exhaustion to catch up on you.

it’s the intention that counts, of course, but why?

toji crouches down next to the bed, now at eye level with you. his callused thumb brushes against your cheekbone, though his soft touch fades as fast as it could be felt.

‘why?’ the question echoes through his head again. toji sighs in frustration. he couldn’t come up with an answer to the many questions forming in his head.

he never had someone do this for him willingly. hell, the man never had someone love him so unconditionally. he still doesn’t know why you do.

he’s always considered himself a horrible person — one that didn’t deserve an ounce of love. nor one that could ever be pictured in a romantic relationship.

and yet there you were. accepting toji as he was, not caring about his occupation nor his distant personality and the fact that he didn’t know how to love properly.

toji wishes he could understand his feelings better. he knows he has an undeniable attraction to you — the way you laugh, the way you carry yourself, the way you seem so. . . confident in showing your affection to him and the others around you — it was intriguing. it’s like you have it all figured out; even though he was the older one in your relationship and he hasn’t

“tch, this shit ‘s too complicated — it’s makin’ my head burst.” toji, once again, complains out loud to no one in particular. his finger flicks against your forehead ever so gently in response to his internal frustrations. his piercing eyes take in the sight of you — the sight of you being so vulnerable.

that’s one more thing toji didn’t understand; why you were so trusting of him when you knew of his job. weren’t you scared of him? weren’t you scared of the possibility of him harming you in your sleep?

maybe he was projecting. toji is a light sleeper. always has been. he doesn’t like being asleep, because it meant he was an easy target for any who intended to harm him.

it took him a few months into your relationship to be able to trust you fully — to take a nap whenever you’re around. he was slowly yet surely healing and you were becoming his safe space. which he didn’t actually think he’d ever have in his harsh life.

toji eventually finds himself sitting down on the floor, wanting to live this moment a bit longer. his rough hand finds yours and he gently grazes your skin with his. his head lands on the mattress, his eyes closing as his brain decides that it was probably okay when you were the only one around;

that it was okay to rest. that it was okay to be vulnerable. that it was okay to be himself. that it was okay to receive affection. that it was okay to be weak. that it was okay to heal.

that it was okay. . . to love.

#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #toji x you #toji x y/n #jjk x y/n #toji fic #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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katszumi · 14 days

Text

bakugou hated defeat. he was never one to forfeit anything. if he could challenge the ocean to a battle, he would and sincerely believe he’d win.

once, he admits defeat to the universe and chooses to let you slip through his fingers.

when he began to fall in love with your sweet manner, delicate touch, warm smile and witty behavior, he also began to hate himself.

he hated the way he was when it came to feelings. he knew he wasn’t able to express his emotions like a good boyfriend should. he was intolerable, insufferable. something that couldn’t have mixed with you.

love was a foreign concept to him, something he couldn’t grasp but something he desperately wished for deep down, no matter how many times he brushed it off or ridiculed the idea.

bakugou knew love wasn’t designed for him, and he wasn’t ever going to let his silly imagination deceive him otherwise.

but, he knows his heart never stands a chance. especially tonight when he finds you on the terrace of ua. the night-sky wrapped the area in its darkness, the crescent moon illuminating the brightest color it could, and the silent night bringing the greatest solitude it could.

bakugou attempts to leave you be, but your eyes find him faster than he originally thought, him being pulled into your magnetic, overwhelming aura.

“hey,” he begins, a slight waver in his voice from his nerves. “not enjoyin’ the party inside?”

you chuckle slightly, waving his question off. “just needed some air.”

bakugou nods in response. he folded his arms over the railing, taking in the scenery around them.

it was the last night for the third years at ua, everyone celebrating their triumphs, losses, friendships. it was the last time they’d be within this building all together, the last time bakugou could silently admire you from afar. he’d always think about his last day there, wondering if he’d be shouting from excitement. he wasn’t close to thinking that he’d feel like his whole world was coming down.

you were planning to travel to the united states to start your hero debut, receiving an offer there that you just couldn’t pass up. he remembered the moment when you told him so vividly. you wore a huge smile, basically jumping out of excitement. that was the first time bakugou came to the realization that he couldn’t have you.

truth be told, he was scared of breaking paths with you. anger, sorrow, fear. you shone a light on all of those emotions. it felt like his anchor was gone. breaking every stable piece off of him one by one.

“so, what’s next for you? don’t think you ever told me your plan.”

in his head, bakugou replies with, that was on purpose. he wanted to remove everything from his mind. go with the flow and live in the moment until it was officially time to get started on his new path of life. but, he figured there was no more time to put it off.

“stay in the city for a bit. kirishima talked about collaboratin’ on an agency, so been givin’ that some consideration.” he replies somberly. “i don’t know really, just gotta find something to keep me busy.”

you echoed bakugou’s action from earlier, nodding to his statement. a small sigh parted your lips, partly from exhaustion, but also from sadness.

“you scared?” it came out as a whisper, as if it was a taboo subject to never touch on, and frankly it was when it came to bakugou.

he waited to respond, pausing for as long as he could before the silence turned uncomfortable.

“yeah.” something so simple but spoke so much considering bakugou would never admit such a thing. “you’ll be okay though. you got an offer some of us wish we could have, and i heard the states has good job opportunities.”

“i don’t wanna go.” first it came out as a mumble, bakugou unsure if he just understood the words that came out of your mouth.

“what?”

“i don’t want to go.” this time, your voice was much more stern.

“the fuck you talkin’ about? you’ve been excited for this shit the day you got the letter, now you don’t wanna go? as if.” he was aware that he came off a little too defensive, mostly to shield his heart from catching a little bit of hope, he didn’t mean to come at you so harshly.

you peeled your eyes away from him, purposely avoiding his eye contact. looking at him seemed more like receiving a scolding from a parent more than anything right now.

“i mean, the united states? i’ll be there alone, no family, no friends. it’s not the money or opportunities i’m concerned about, bakugou. it’s about my happiness.” you explained. “isn’t that something you’re thinking about too?”

bakugou weighs his options. he thinks he has nothing else to lose, but he also considers the fact of you breaking his heart even more than it is. besides, you were smart, he knew you were going to take the offer anyway no matter how bad your nerves were eating you up.

“you can’t think with your heart about things like this, y/n.” he knows he’s an asshole. he knows you’re looking to him for the reassurance you want to hear but he just can’t give it.

“i’m not! i just want to be happy doing the things i love and that’s not possible in an environment i cant stand to be in.”

“you don’t know that yet.”

“i’m getting a pretty good feeling.”

“because you’re scared.”

you shrug, “so what? you don’t know how i feel. you’ll be here with your mom, dad, and all of your friends. i’ll have to start over from scratch in a country i know nothing about.”

he scoffed, his eyes darting away from your figure. “right because you know exactly how i feel.” his tone bled with sarcasm.

“you don’t tell me how you feel for anything, so sorry for taking an educated guess.” you retorted.

“you never ask to begin with.”

“as if you’d even tell me. you think i haven’t noticed you avoiding me these past couple of weeks? you don’t even talk to me anymore.”

now the roles reversed, you stared at him, bakugou not daring to look into your eye.

he shifted in his position, beginning to become uncomfortable. he replayed in his mind what he should’ve done moments ago instead of coming to speak to you.

“nothing to say?” you were playing with fire, not caring that you were poking the bear. “guess that’s not anything new. you just do whatever you want, say whatever you wish without thinking of the other person, because you’re ‘katsuki bakugou’. the man who cares about none other than the title of being the number one hero.”

“that’s not fuckin’ true and you know it.” he snaps his head towards you.

“do i?” your eyes searched his. “maybe a few months ago i would’ve, but you’ve been treating me like an outcast recently. i thought i mattered to you! i thought we were something!”

“what do you want me to say here?”

“i want you to be honest.”

bakugou clenched his teeth, his jaw sharpening from the action. of course he wanted to be with you, there was no other girl that he could imagine being with. but it just couldn’t work. you weren’t made to be with a monster, and he didn’t deserve to enjoy something so sweet as you.

so, bakugou opted to refuse the truth once again, brushing her off.

“you’re just too good for me.” he simply replies. “don’t waste your potential here. go to america.”

bakugou takes no more time to indulge in your erratic behavior, so he leaves you at the terrace, the noise of the party being heard the moment he opened the side door.

he wanted you more than anything. if the universe loved him a little more, then maybe things between you two would work out. but because of his shitty luck and vexatious attitude, you two just didn’t match.

he also knew there was just someone you were bound to fall in love with in america.

bakugou wasn’t going to lead you on to make a stupid decision. even if that meant destroying himself in the process.

the morning after, your name wasn’t to be found on any of his socials, and his messages to you turned green. if he didn’t know before, then he definitely knew now that he burned anything he had with you.

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lowkeycasanova · 1 month

Text

can't sleep

trafalgar law x reader

*Pic isn’t mine. I’d put the user but I can’t make out the watermark*

Opening your eyes to the ceiling, you then glance over at the clock.

1:32 am

The soft rustle of the sheets echoed through the room as you shifted from your back to your side. The mattress molded to your figure and you closed your eyes.

Your eyes flutter open and again you glance at the clock.

1:47 am

What? How has it only been fifteen minutes? It felt like at least an hour since you closed your eyes.

Feeling pressure on your hip as you laid, you changed your position to your other side, flexing both knees up, and lazily crossed both arms over on another so they rested on your waist and closed your eyes.

Just for them to open again. You glance over your shoulder at the clock.

2:30 am

You sighed. Taking a peek at Law, a slight fown and furrow in his brows as he rested in his back. His chest rose and fell evenly with each breath. A reminder of the sleep you wish to have.

You then pivot to lay on your stomach with your hands on the pillow. You shut your eyes in an attempt to force yourself to sleep.

2:57 am

You've got to be fucking kidding.

Not even a whole hour passed away, you just laid there with your eyes closed, staring at the darkness behind your eyelids.

You twisted and turned in the bed, adjusting your position for what felt like the thousandth time trying to get comfortable.

Each second that passed echoed the persistent restlessness of your mind. Letting your thoughts roam free was never a good idea, especially at this time of night. It would make you feel more awake. One thing would lead to another and then all of a sudden you're thinking about every mistake you've ever made.

Changing your position again, you lay on your side with your back facing Law, staring at the wall a few feet away.

Unexpectedly, you felt a pair of strong arms encircle your waist.

"Stop moving." Law mumbled.

Knowing that you inadvertenly woke him up made you feel guilty.

His embrace was comforting but knowing him, it was probably also to keep you still. You tried to allow his presence to soothe you, but unfortunately, the discomfort you felt was stubborn, promting you to release yourself from his hold.

Quietly, you slipped out of bed, treading lightly across the room as if to not disturb him further. In search of solace, you wandered to another part of the ship.

However, just as you contemplated your next move, the air around you rippled with energy. Before you could make sense of it, you found yourself back in the bedroom. It remained unchanged, except for the fact that Law was now sitting up.

"Whatever you're planning, it's going to keep you up." he warned.

You let out an soft, yet annoyed groan. That ability of his could be a nuisance.

Technically, he was right. Doing any sort of activity is going to make your body think it should be alert. And, he doesn't want to sleep without you there. Although he will never say that.

As you considered your options, he let out a sigh.

"Come back to bed." he stated and patted the space next to him. The temptation to argue was strong, but you saw the concern in his eyes.

Reluctantly, you shuffled back to bed, slipping under the covers and finding your place next to him. He resumed his previous position, wrapping his arms around you once more.

“Are you upset about something?" He asked. You shook your head 'no'.

"Try to rest." he whispered, his voiced mixed with understanding and a hint of frustration. "I won't be able to sleep properly if I know you're wandering around the ship."

"I'm trying." you sighed, letting out a breath in an attempt to calm your pounding heart. Maybe some unknown factor was causing you stress and the increased cortisol was keeping you up.

Law pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, his grip gentle yet secure. "Close your eyes and relax. I'm here."

As the minutes passed, the rhythm of his breathing intertwined with yours, creating a peaceful melody that pulled you into a state of relaxation.

#one piece fanfiction #trafalgar d law x reader #one piece trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #one piece fluff #one piece drabble #trafalgar law fluff #law x y/n

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 7 days

Text

You don’t get to tell me about sad

Previous chapter / Next chapter

a/n part two! Thank you for everyone who read the first one. So glad some of you liked it so much. 🫧🤍

summary: Azriel gets an assignment he can’t seem to decline. Now he has a princess full of attitude under his protection. The only question is whose cold heart will break first.

warning: past trauma, scars

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“No threats, nothing," Azriel dropped the report down on the table. Rhys had been the one to go meet with Autumn’s high lord. Bringing back the reports of everything that had been happening the past three days. “Eris said that everyone still thinks she’s there," Rhys stated. They planned on spinning a lie about you visiting an old relative, but it was better if the people who had inflicted the first attack would be misled about your true location.

“This could have been a one-time thing," Cassian hums, flipping through the report himself. “Or someone is waiting for the right moment," Rhys links his fingers together, resting his chin on them. “Why her?”, Cassian frowns. Yeah, Azriel asked that too at first. You didn’t seem to be magically gifted. There was nothing special about you, as far as he was aware. “Eris said she’s a weak link," the spymaster muttered.

“They’re close? That would explain things," and Cassian was right there. Love might be the worst weapon to have. Once, it slipped into the wrong hands. Azriel let out a sigh.

“Considering how he delivered the news, he loves her a lot. I believe, besides Lucien, she’s the closest to him." If he was being truthful, he hadn’t given it much thought. Here in Velaris, he could leave you on your own devices for the most part, at least. He didn’t need to trail after you. There was no need. Azriel had eyes almost everywhere.

“We’ll figure something out. I will ask around to see if something is stirring." Rhys leans back, his eyes now fixed on Azriel, “How are you?”. Azriel tries to hold back to not roll his eyes. “I’ve been fine for two weeks ago." And he was. Yes, his left side still hurt. The scar was deep and rather long. Rapping around his ribcage. Not to mention that he had pulled the stitches out way too many times. “Don’t start this," Rhys says bluntly.

“I could be up at the camps doing what I do best," Azriel points out. Itching to pick this topic back up. “Dying in the snow?"—that was a straight blow from his brother. Rhys hadn’t been able to say it out loud for the first couple of weeks. The thought of Azriel dying had messed with his head. “I said no, so it’s a no. Plus, you have a new responsibility," Rhys states firmly, and Azriel knows that there is no use in nagging him any further. “Counting days till she’s out of my sight," he mutters beneath his breath, standing up to leave. He just forgot to mean the words he spoke.

Velaris was different from what you had imagined it to be. In a good way, but it still wasn’t home. The ever-green trees almost bugged you. It was all too alive. Too bright. You missed the deep oranges. The crunching of the leaves beneath your feet. Rhys tried to be a caring host by giving you an autumn-themed room, but that only left a bitter taste in your mouth. So even if you had been advised by their healer to keep all weight off your swollen ankle for a while, you still found yourself, pulling away the decorations and shoving away the autumn theme blankets, the little trinkets.

You tried to keep out of everyone’s hair. Choosing to take your food into your room. But the four walls were starting to drive you mad. You had tasted freedom, and you didn’t want to be back there. Locked up. Hidden. Forgotten. So when your eyes landed on the two males sparing in the front yard, you, of course, first observed them from your window. Watching through the curtains and then pushing back.

“You should be resting your leg," Azriel hadn’t even turned to face you when his voice found you. A slight smirk tugging at your lips. He had been avoiding you. Or maybe you were too full of yourself. Maybe he was just busy. There was no requirement for him to be at your side twenty-four-seven.

“You’re a shit bodyguard if you didn’t know that I've been doing just that for the past three days," you muse, stepping closer to the racks of weapons that line their training ground. Fingers l brushing over a set of onyx black daggers. “Madja said at least a couple of weeks," Azriel points out, reaching to rewrap his knuckles. “And I said that I'm bored, and now we are here," you purr, lifting one of the daggers, feeling out the weight as you twist your wrist. You could feel Azriel’s eyes. Watching you. Following your every move.

“Or you just wanted a closer look at this“, the male next to him, who you had come to learn was Cassian, smirks, gesturing to his bare chest. Abs glistening with sweat. Yeah, the view wasn’t bad. Autumn males, at least the ones you know, didn’t compare. “And I thought this one was full of himself." You hooked your thumb at Azriel, rolling your eyes.

He shakes his head, “Would it hurt you to say my name?”, "Yes, Mr. Tree, trunk up my ass." You give him the most obnoxious smile you could master. Earning a deep growl from the spymaster in return. Until your eyes landed on the wooden bow, neatly placed on the ground by the buckets of water. “I want to shoot arrows," you mutter, pointing to the weapon, making Azriel’s gaze follow suit.

He let out a small snort, “Have you ever held a bow in your delicate hands?”. That prick. You narrowed your eyes at him. "Oh, news flash, he is also a sexist,” you hiss. Rounding his side to reach for the arrows. “I just don’t want you falling and tripping once again, princess," he teases in an almost mocking tone. You step closer to him. You doubt that he finds you intimidating, considering that you need to look up to even meet his gaze. But your face stays ice cold as you point to the bow, “Give it to me." He doesn’t move at first. As if on purpose. Giving you extra time to look at him. His face. There is a light scar over his right eyebrow. It’s not all that visible. Unless you take your time to… but, your little daydream is cut short by a bow being shoved at your chest. You nearly lose your footing. And just like that, you are snapped out of your daze.

“Don’t start crying when you miss," Azriel says, too full of himself as always. Leaning on the side beam like a smug, fucking cat. Too bad you grew up among five arrogant males. Six if you include that sadist of a father. That’s enough for the amber to catch fire deep within your chest. You line the arrow up. Taking a deep breath. Eyes falling to the target at the edge of the field ahead. And then it’s muscle memory as you let it loose. The first one hit the bull's eye. A satisfied smile speeds on your face as you reach for the second and third. You’re petty like that. Not in the mood to give Azriel a chance to call it fool’s luck.

A loud chuckle fills your ears, and then someone is nudging your shoulder. “She handed you your ass on a silver plate, brother." Cassian’s laughter booms, and you can’t help but match his grin. “Choke on the dust," you muse, flipping him off as you twist away from him. But Azriel is quick as always, grasping your elbow as he spin you back. “Know your place," he says through gritted teeth. Nostrils flaring.

“Maybe you should show me my place," you mutter, crossing an x on his chest. You yank your hand from his grip, glancing at Cassian, “Put the dog on the leash." Azriel curses, making Cassian snort, before the general starts barking, moving to the side to tackle his brother. You shake your head, continuing to walk away. Only catching a faint warning from Azriel, “Don’t fucking encourage it.”

Azriel chose to leave you alone for the rest of the day. Yet he could deny it all he wanted, but the shots were clean. Not to mention that he was almost relieved that you had left your room. A burden or not, he didn’t want you just rotting between the four walls. So he’s not all that surprised when your figure steps out onto the balcony. A lantern in your hand. One that you carefully place on the ledge before placing your hand on the stones. Stepping on your tiptoes, leaning to look over the edge.

"Snooping", the sudden sound of his voice makes you jump, your elbow hitting the lantern and pushing it over the edge. “You’re insane. Absolute sociopath," you gasp, hand on your chest as you try to wipe the threat from your face.

“You’re pathetic if that made you scared," Azriel shrugs, stepping out for the shadows. It wasn’t pathetic. He knew that. If he didn’t want to be seen, no one would see him. So blaming this on you was lame, but he could excuse it. For now. “You’re a creep," you hiss, leaning over the edge to look for the broken glass, now scattered on the ground. “Who sits in the dark like that?”, you ask, shaking your head and pulling your ginger hair over to one side. Fidgeting with the ends. That’s a new habit, Azriel thinks to himself, one he hadn’t yet observed.

You just shake your head once you don’t receive an answer from him. Eyes darting up the sky. It’s almost pitch black. The last traces of orange and deep purple are coloring the very edges of the horizon. “The sky is beautiful here as well," you breathe out. Not sure why. It felt stupid to get sentimental with that crazy man behind you. “It is," Azriel admits, forcing his eyes from your frame to lift to the sky. But the stars only manage to hold his attention for so long. Before they glance right back down at you, Azriel can’t tell from your face, but he feels the wave of sadness crashing into his chest.

And not even a heartbeat later you speak up again. “I usually take walks with the dogs in the evening, so... old habits die hard. I feel the itch." It’s an almost bitter chuckle that slips past your lips as you speak. Azriel walks close to the railing. “I feel the same if I don’t get to work late at night," he’s not sure why he’s even saying that. Admitting something that you don’t need to know. Or probably care to know. Your nose screeches up. “That’s a weird thing to like," you mutter. Azriel rolls his eyes, “Stomping through the woods isn’t any better.”

The breeze picks up. Chasing the last bits of warmth away. Making you wrap your arms around yourself tighter, but you don’t step back. Don’t move to head inside. “So, you’re a working late and sleep-in type of guy," you mutter. Azriel realizes it then. You’re here because you don’t want to be alone. Force-pushing the conversation to keep someone else in your company. Flashes of the basement flicker through his mind.

“No, I wake up early," he answers, a heartbeat too late, and yet you’re still nodding along. “So, no sleep type of guy," you mutter beneath your breath. The darkness is now fully draping over you two. Hiding you both from the world. “And you’re a talk just to listen to yourself speak type of girl," Azriel points out, making you huff. “And here, I thought we were having a moment." He watches as you turn around, shaking your head. “Jumping to conclusions kind of girl too," he says firmly, and this time it’s enough to drag a little chuckle from your lips as your head falls back ever so slightly.

But the distant pain doesn’t leave your eyes when you glance back at him. “Did Eris say anything by any chance?”, you mutter. A part of Azriel considers lying. Twisting the truth. A white lie. But he can’t bring himself to. Too many people were already keeping you in the dark, so he mutters a quiet, "No." Watching as you nod way too eagerly at his answer, “Of course, delighted to get rid of the troublemaker," there was that pained smile at the end as you finally chose to spread the distance between you two. “Lucien is coming tomorrow, though," Azriel points out, your tense shoulders easing ever so slightly. You don’t say anything as you reach for the glass door.

“Are you going to sleep?”, Azriel asks, almost cringing himself out. What was this sound of desperation? He didn’t fucking care what you did. “Not yet. I will walk in the garden for a bit." You gesture to the fields wrapping around the house. Azriel nods firmly, “Keep to the upper parts; don’t go past the rose garden if you get by the white... ”, “Okay, okay, mother... Tie me to your chair and watch me wilt away while you’re at it," you huff, your lips thinning into a tight line. “I’ll finish some work and come to do a room sweep," the spymaster says in an almost demanding manner. You simply raise your hand to your forehead, saluting him with a quiet “Yes, sir," before disappearing into the house.

It took Azriel way longer to get through his usual routine. He liked his office tidy for his morning working session. So at night, even if he was tired to his bones, he made the effort to sort through every pile of documents. Arrange them neatly. When he finally made it up to the top floor, where your room was located, it was well past midnight. Azriel knew that he could just drop it. He didn’t have to show up and check the room. Yet he still stood there right by your door.

"Princess," he knocked gently, not really in the mood to startle you once again tonight. You might be small and fierce, but everyone has a limit. When no response follows, he tries again: "Yn, it’s Azriel, can I come in?”, but still nothing. He could just walk in, but you weren’t a prisoner per se. “This is your last warning," he says, waiting for a heartbeat before pushing onto the handle.

It was dead quiet in the room. He would have concluded that you might not have returned yet if not for the mess that your bed was. He frowns slightly. Following the line of blankets that lead to the fireplace. And here you are. Curled by the fire, all the blankets dragged from the bed. Piles of books scattered all around you. He didn’t know that you had gone to the library. Or maybe this was Nesta’s doing. In that case, he didn’t wish to find out what was written in them. Azriel scannes the room. His eyes fell on the pens and pencils on the table. A sketchbook. A strange feeling kindled in Azriel’s chest. He has a pad just like that. Kept it in his leathers. So if he feels the urge or if something captures his attention begging to be sketched, he could easily do so.

Azriel steps closer, trying not to leave evidence of looking through your stuff. It makes him uneasy just how close you are to the fireplace, but then. Flame calls to flame. He knows that he should turn away. Just leave you be. There’s no danger here. He knows it. But he finds himself stepping forward, kneeling by your body. He hasn’t seen you so peacefully innocent before. He only knew the frowning, tantrum-throwing princess.

Tilting his head to the side, he tries to drink your features in. You were a Vanserra. The resemblance to Eris and Lucien was there. But a much softer version. With freckles all over your face. Long eyelashes. Your hair was more ginger than fire-red. But then his gaze halted. Your left shoulder was bare. The very top of your breast... a scar. It was a scare that made him halt. On your collarbone. And then two lines going beneath your shirt. Azriel’s scowl only deepened at the sight of one more white line at the side of your throat. “What did they do to you?", he mutters quietly. But it’s enough to make your eyes snap open as you jolt up. And once again, there’s a dagger aimed at Azriel’s throat, this time from the side. The very tip pressing into his flesh.

“What the fuck?", you huff, lowering your hand. “That’s a much better aim. You’re learning fast, princess." Azriel tries to keep his face cool as he steps back. Standing tall. “Why are you here standing over me like that?”, you scowl, pulling the blanket tighter over your shoulders.

“I just came to check the room," Azriel says, moving his gaze to the window. Anything was better now than looking into your burning eyes. “And decided that you can just let yourself in," you say, pushing to stand up. “You were on the floor by the fire; who knows, maybe you were lying there dead?", Azriel bits back, gesturing at the mess you had created. It was embarrassing that he had seen it. No one was supposed to see it. A bitter laugh slips past your lips, “You wish that would be...", and in a blink of an eye, he is there. Inches away from you. Hand reaching for your hair. No doubt he had thought about just yanking it back but decided against it at the last minute.

“Don’t finish that," he says, opting for a warning finger once more. As if he’s scolding a child. “Or what?", you flash your teeth at him. Pretending to bite the very tip of his finger. “You love picking fights, huh?", he straightens, smothering his hair back. The slight curls falling over his forehead. “You love changing the subject, huh?”, you mock back in the same tone. “You might just be one of the most frustrating things that came out of autumn," and you can see that he probably didn’t even mean to say it out loud. But he did. And now you two were standing in the aftermath of it. Your hands curling into fists. “Thing...", you smile at him, “How sweet of you; ladies probably drop their pants for that," and here it was that cold, cold look on your face. "Out," you hiss, now pointing Azriel to the door. Dismissing him.

The next morning is rather awkward. Azriel finds you in the sunroom of the house. Your legs tugged beneath you. You don’t lift your head, and he says nothing. Taking his usual spot by the window to drink his coffee. It unsettles him. The silence. He doesn’t want you to feel like he’s some creepy stalker. Maybe you both should settle the ground rules. Talk about the situation. But once he finally finds the courage to open his mouth, the door opens. A gasp slips past your lips as you jump up, rushing to the male standing in the doorway.

"Luci," you breathe, wrapping your arms around your brother’s neck. The warmth he carried seeping into your body. “My little flicker," he mutters against your hair, leaving a couple of kisses on the side of your head. "Azriel," Lucien nods in acknowledgment. Azriel follows his movement. “I’ve got it from here”, Luci smiles at the spymaster, rubbing his hands up and down your back.

“What’s going on?”, you mutter against his chest, refusing to let go. “What did Eris say?”, your brother asks, and it’s enough to make you pull back. “I don’t give a fuck about what he said," you grunt. “I want to know what you know," you demand. You have a full right to. Lucien holds your gaze for a moment before letting out a tired sigh, “We will be heading back for a bit." You shake your head, turning away from him.

“I will tell you as soon as I can, I promise," he says as he steps forward, holding you by your shoulder as he lowers his forehead to lean against you.“Why are we going back?” It’s a whisper, but blood runs thicker than water. And you need to stick together, as you always did. Even if you still don’t understand anything, “There is a public outing. He needs us by his side." That makes you chuckle, “I also needed him by my side in case anyone was wondering.”.

"Yn," Lucien sighs, but you shake your head. “You don’t get to make me feel bad for him." It’s selfish, you know that. But they had sworn to protect you, and this feels like the opposite of it. “He’s figuring this out too; be kind," Lucien mumbles, pulling your hands into his and squeezing them. “Come on, you’ll get to watch the joy on Azriel’s face when I tell him that he’ll have to spend a couple of nights in autumn," he nudges you, making you smile ever so slightly, “Now that I can get behind”.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taglist: @emryb

#azriel acotar imagine #azriel x oc #eris x azriel #azriel x you #azriel imagien #azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #acotar x you #acotar x oc #lucien vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x you

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euaphoric · 9 months

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・゜ ʚɞ ゜・゜

✩‧₊˚ pairing — jungkook x f!reader (established relationship) ✩‧₊˚ warnings — fluff, very suggestive but no actual sm*t in this, cute kissing & cuddling hhh, oc is called “little girl” like once

another 4 am post, im on a roll w these hehe >:3 but i just wanted something to post for my bday (even tho this nothing to do w birthdays?? LMAO) and i can’t get this damn live out of my head like he’s fckung inssne sffdsgsh n e ways this is lowk corny but enjoy lol.

the faint sounds of birds chirping awoke you from your nightly slumber, eyes fluttering open to your wide awake boyfriend scrolling on his phone. he seemed to be very focused on whatever he was watching, wondering how long he’s been awake for. you prop yourself up slowly on your elbows, barely able to move a muscle from feeling sore by last night’s events. you two can go at it for hours at a time - you forgot how much of a real workout it is being on top. it’s impossible so hard to resist him though, you love that jungkook has just as much of an insanely high libido as you, literal match made in heaven.

waking up to him everyday already felt like a blessing in itself honestly. he was the epitome of perfection; in only a pair of boxers, staring at his chiseled figure, toned biceps, those muscles?? yeah you were beyond down bad for him. but he was just as down bad (debatably more) for you too. your raging hormones were really getting the best of you. your first thoughts were to violently make out with him but instead you settle for some sweet cuddles right now, coming closer to nuzzle in his bare chest. “g’mornin’ sleepyhead.” jungkook mumbles, averting his attention to you instead of the screen. “took you long enough to wake up!” his arms went to cage around your form. “what time is it babe?” you ask, a slight yawn slips out, still feeling groggy.

“7 am.” “wait- really?!” you were so confused, you weren’t expecting it to be this early since usually you don’t wake up until around 10 or 11. “yeah, i didn’t get much sleep though.” his soothing touch runs down your back, pressing delicate kisses to your forehead. this was home to you; feeling his warmth against you, listening to his hums as he cradles you, never wanting to leave his embrace. you were living rent free in your boyfriend’s arms 24/7.“hmm, what should we do today?” you ask, peeking your head out a bit. “dunno… why don’t we just stay in and watch some anime?” his lips proceed to attack your face, pecking kisses all over until you’re physically sick of it. unable to utter a single word out from all the smothering, you just let him do as he pleases.

“but we do that everyday already koob.” you finally get to say once he comes up for air. “and? i see no objection here.” god he can be so stubborn at times… “c’monn, we should go do something today..” you pout, feeling bratty over his unwillingness to be social. you love staying in bed and binge watching shows with him but for some unknown reason you wanted to be adventurous today. “actually, i know what i wanna do today.” he smirks, biting his lip at you. of course, he only wants to stay inside because he’s horny-_-

you let out a tiny scoff, “ugh, perv!” nothing he says should ever surprise you anymore but it’s still fun to tease him. “only for you though.” he chuckled, pulling you back in but this time plants a wet kiss to your lips, “truthfully i just want you all for myself.” his hand brings your leg over to wrap around his waist. “such a selfish boy.” you tease some more, combing the disheveled strands of his silky hair. “mhm mhmm, that’s me.” he proudly admits, he acts very territorial over what’s his and would def gatekeep you from everyone if he could, no one deserves to see his precious bb but him:( “i’m still hella sore from yesterday, i don’t know if i feel like doing anything right now.” you timidly reply, butterflies forming in your tummy as he casually traces circles to your thigh. his eyebrows furrowed, “who said you had to do anything?”

he catches you off guard when suddenly his body shifts underneath, positioning you to be below him while hovering over you. when leaning in he stops midway to stare and admire your pretty lips, wanting so badly for them to be on his. he closes the distance to finally kiss you, giving you a million more butterflies as your body sinks into the mattress. you can sense all the passion and longing from just kissing him, it’s desperate yet filled with fervor, you feel his love immensely. when he gnaws your lower lip as entry, it becomes more heated - a full-on make out sesh occurs. fingers all tangled up in his locks while he caresses your upper body, lips moving perfectly in sync with one another. soon as you wrapped your legs around him a switch goes off in his brain, he needs you, like expeditiously. jungkook sneaks his hands up to your arms when he breaks away, pinning them above your head, you don’t know why but your first reaction was to giggle which puzzles him. “what’s so funny hm? keep thinking i’m playing little girl, i’ll have you begging we stay in.” he remarks, eyes shading darker as he doesn’t find any of this to be a laughing matter. “koo i-” he quickly cuts you off with another breathless kiss.

“shh, just lay back and relax pretty, let me do all the work for you.”

#jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook drabbles #jungkook imagines #bts fluff #bts smut #jungkook fanfic

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shoccolatine · 2 months

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their reactions if MC was fatally wounded by wanderers and passed away

⚘pairings: xavier x reader, zayne x reader, rafayel x reader

⚘tags: sfw, gender-neutral MC, established relationship, loss and grief, ANGST, alcohol consumption (in xavier's part), very slight chapter 7/8 spoilers (in rafayel's part)

⚘a/n: sorry xavier's is shorter, i'm still figuring out his character! also can you tell i have a bias um hehe,,,

╰┈➤ ❝ XAVIER. ❞

is devastated by the news, and blames himself for not being there as their hunting partner to protect them and keep them safe

he drowns his grief in liquor at The Nest—the bartender worries for his sudden habit, but xavier's lips are locked tight, and so he doesn't pry. the best he can do is cut him off before his veins are more alcohol than blood

he also takes it out on the wanderers he fights from then on, hoping that the next one's throat he slits is the one who took his precious MC away from him

on calmer days, he brings flowers to their grave whenever he's able—he'll sit and chat about everything and nothing in the hopes that somehow, somewhere, they're still listening

╰┈➤ ❝ ZAYNE. ❞

would be in the ER doing everything he can to save them

....but it's not enough

the guilt of their life slipping through his fingers weighs heavy on him. but he never lets it show

he already spends a lot of time at work, but after they pass, he throws himself fully into his job

he's even more clinical and impersonal than ever and fully embodies the "cold and distant dr. zayne" title everyone else thought of him (everyone but MC)

he doesn't allow himself to get close to anyone anymore—after all, the ones he opens his heart to always get taken away from him

he keeps himself busy 24/7. if he allows even a moment's break, he starts thinking, and thinking is bad

his already frequent nightmares worsen, and he finds himself pulling even more all-nighters than usual to avoid them

bonus extra angsty alternate ending: his lack of sleep and inner anguish affect him to the point of messing up a delicate surgery. he resigns that same day.

╰┈➤ ❝ RAFAYEL. ❞

thomas is unable to contact him for days. texts and voicemails remain unanswered, deadlines are fast approaching with no updates... but, isn't this normal behaviour from the antisocial artist?

it's not until finding out about MC's passing a week later that thomas realizes he should have been more persistent with rafayel. but would it have even mattered? when rafayel is in a mood, it's near impossible to find/reach him, nevermind pull him out of it

weeks pass with still no word, and thomas regrets his last conversation with rafayel—pressing him to finish his latest painting, with an eager buyer already waiting

thomas does his best to manage cancelling rafayel's many interview and art show invitations without stirring up concerns. rafayel is already known to be dodgy with such things, though, which thankfully buys him some time

rafayel is finally spotted some time later on the beach just off his home studio, drenched to his bones and wandering aimlessly barefoot along the coast

he hasn't touched a paintbrush in ages, and has completely forgotten the inspiration for his last unfinished piece

he's spent nearly the entire time in the sea. the rocking of the waves and the rush of his heartbeat in his ears keep him distracted more than painting ever could

his muse is gone, and with it his flame. he spent all this time to find them... just to lose them again. his poor heart just can't bear it

one day he leaves one last cryptic message to thomas, dons his scales once more, and returns to the sea forever

#i maybe got a bit intense with rafayel's hfhds #zayne's was the first to come from this idea and writing it made me sad #love and deepspace #rafayel #rafayel x reader #zayne #zayne x reader #xavier #xavier x reader #hcs #zayne really be like 'conceal don't feel don't let it show' ❄️#elsa coded /hj

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wineauntie · 4 months

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I DON’T KNOW WHY I AM, THE WAY I AM — the hughes brothers x hughes!sister reader

summary: when things go south, hughes!sister reader finds herself needing her older brothers more than ever.

PART ONE HERE

note: I didn’t expect part one to get so much love and support but I’m so grateful for it, thank you and enjoy part two <33

warnings: fem reader, reader is the youngest, use of Y/N, reader has a mild panic attack and it’s alluded that she has anxiety. Reader puts everyone else before herself. Reader also has self deprecating thoughts and blames herself for a lot things.

word count: 2.1k

"The fine line between roaring with laughter and crying because it's a disaster is a very, very fine line."

You couldn't quite recall where you'd read the quote, nor could you place who had once said it...but perhaps it could offer an explanation as to why you were simultaneously hysterically laughing as horrid sobs wracked through your body.

This whole situation was comical!

Hilarious, in fact.

You'd ruined a perfectly good dinner and everyone's good mood all for the sake of, what? A pity party for your own inner envy? A chance to berate your family? Remembering your outburst as it replayed through your head made your stomach churn and pull in all sorts of directions, forcing you to choke on another sob as you curled yourself up tighter into a ball on the wooden floor beside your bed.

It had been five minutes since you'd fled the scene of your crime and you'd barely been able to keep your emotions at bay until you'd finally shut your bedroom door tightly.

You'd already caused enough issues tonight, best not to add to the problem as your emotions peaked.

You hadn't meant to ruin everything, it had just all built up and now?... now it felt even worse than before. All the emotions you'd been repressing all summer seemed to spill out so easily once the rage had broken through the gates to allow a clear passage for everything else to filter out.

You hadn't been able to register the heartbroken faces of your brothers and parents in the heat of the moment but as their faces flashed before you now, that's all you could see. Your mom and dad had looked devastated and Quinn and Jack looked so concerned and you'd...you'd just ignored it!

And Luke, oh, his face when you'd snapped sent you into another fit of broken laughter as you cried. He hadn't meant to cause you to burst, he'd just been the unlucky one to speak at the wrong time. All he'd tried to do was help you, and you'd practically shoved it right back at him.

His crestfallen face haunted you.

A knock broke through the room and before you could call out, your bedroom door slowly crept open. Your hands quickly brushed away your tears, trying to hide your upset as a pair of footsteps slipped into your room and shut the door behind them. You felt them lower themself to the ground to sit by your side, their hand on your arm.

Quinn let out a little sigh as he let you try to cover your red-tinged eyes from him.

"Hey," He began, his head tilting towards you. His greeting was met with ashamed silence, as you struggled to keep more tears from bucketing down your face.

"Look, no one's mad at you," he started cautiously, his eyes flitting carefully around your face. His words were exactly what you needed to hear even if you didn't want to absorb them. Your tears which had been successfully stopped we're now threatening to spill over onto the cushioning of your cheeks as he pulled you into his side, your head burying itself in his shoulder.

"I don't know how to fix this, Q..." you stammered, your words broken up with staggered breaths. "I was so horrible and—"

"Stop," Quinn cut you off, "you weren't horrible or wrong to say what you did. You have to stop beating yourself up about it."

"But I usually know how to fix everything!" You sniffled through your rambling. "But I can't figure out how to fix myself or fix this big mess. No matter what you say, Quinn, I was awful and Mom and Dad tried to just help and I was a brat to them-"

Your words ended with more cascading tear drops as Quinn gently ran a hand up and down your arm trying to soothe your breathing which was beginning to get more rapid by the second, despite your eldest brother's reassuring words.

"Y/N, listen to me, you're going to work yourself up," Quinn stated as calmly as possible, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly. This wasn't the first time he'd helped you through a situation like this, he'd helped you countless times and he would do it countless more if he had to. "You need to slow down and breathe...come on, in and out,"

You nodded quickly as you tried to quash the rising swell of panic whilst you focused on your breathing.

The familiar sensation of a panic attack was slowly fading as your brother continued to coach you to breathe. You'd had these 'moments', as you called them, every once and a while, when everything got too much, and too hard in too little time. The world would cave in, your elbows pressed against an invisible, airless box as you fought to break free. In this box everything swirled in a tornado of alarm; every thought, every whim, every word a flurry of fear designed to target your very being.

You took a sudden and deep breath in, your eyes swimming with tears as you attempted to steady your breathing as much as possible.

"Atta girl," Quinn briefly smiled as his grip on you loosened. He glanced towards the door before concentrating on you once more. You squeezed your eyes shut and leaned into him as the remainder of your panic began to ebb away.

After a few moments of silence and steady breathing, Quinn began to speak again.

"We should've noticed how miserable you've been, hell, I mean I noticed this summer but I just thought...no. There's no excuses." He stopped himself as he trailed off.

"I'm sorry," You sniffed, "I didn't mean to cause a scene, I just...I'm so tired, Q, I'm so tired."

"You always bundle everything up inside when you don't have to," Quinn hummed as his hand brushed over your head, sending a wave of comfort through you.

"You should've just told us,"

Both, you and Quinn's heads snapped towards the door where Luke and Jack stood quietly. Jack, who'd spoken, stepped forward and took the space on your other side, his legs stretched out ahead of him as he fixed the hat on his head.

"We could've, uh, stopped, y'know?" He continued, clearing his throat as he looked at you. "Didn't mean to make you feel left out and we should've gone to more of your events."

"That was selfish of us," Quinn added, looking between Jack and Luke, who both nodded in agreement.

"You're not selfish," you mumbled, looking down at your hands which were fidgeting on your lap. "You're just busy. You all have your own lives, I can't expect you guys to be at everything, I'm sorry I threw it in your face."

"Stop saying sorry," Luke scoffed, his eyebrows furrowed as he moved around the room. You bit your trembling lip as you watched him pick up a few trinkets lying on your dresser.

"I..." you looked at Quinn and Jack in slight bewilderment, before focusing on Luke again. He moved closer towards the three of you before crouching down in front of you, his eyes locked on yours. "But I am sorry...to you especially, I blew up on you– all of you actually, and you guys were only trying to help me."

"Stop," Luke repeated himself, "Listen, look, we fucked up here. Stop feeling sorry." He didn't bother to look at Quinn and Jack, his eyes solely on you. Luke's sincerity caught you off guard, and you couldn't help but stare into his eyes, searching for any signs of resentment. Instead, you found a mix of concern and understanding. It was as if he wanted to convey that your feelings were valid, even if your actions were flawed.

You and Luke had always been close. You were the closest in age and it came as no surprise that you two were always thick as thieves in your childhood and yet you'd never seen him be quite as careful as he was right now.

"We all have our moments," Luke continued, his voice softening. "But now that you've let it out, let us help." You gulped and nodded half-heartedly, dropping your head to your chest.

"I don't know why I'm like this," you slowly confessed with a croaky voice whilst a shaky hand ran through your hair. "It's all so..." You paused and waved your hands around before they fell back to your lap. "...and I just feel so stupid."

"I always thought you were part robot, honestly" Jack chuckled, earning hums of agreement from your other brothers and causing you to let a small smile cross your features. "You're human, Y/N, congratulations, we all have our breaking points, and it's alright to reach them sometimes," his eyes widened before he rushed back into the conversation. "–as long as you let us help, of course."

"Look, we're here and we'll figure it out." Quinn supplied as he gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze, while Jack offered a genuine smile. "We don't want to make you feel as you have ever again."

As you absorbed their words, a gentle wave of gratitude and relief washed over you. It wasn't fixing everything immediately, but the reassurance that you didn't have to carry the weight alone anymore made a world of difference. You let out a shaky breath, feeling a sudden shyness creep over you.

"I appreciate you guys being here...saying all this," you admitted, your voice steadier. "I let things just build, and I convince myself that I can handle it all on my own, but I don’t think it worked for me this time."

"Stubbornness runs in the family, doesn't it?" Quinn chuckled softly, "But around here we share the load."

"Ew," Luke recoiled with a look of disgust, earning a brief melodious laugh from you.

"Not like that, idiot," Quinn scoffed and reached forward to whack Luke over the head.

"Strange that your mind went there, Lukey boy," Jack joined in on the teasing, nudging the boy with his foot.

"Alright, alright," Luke huffed as he rolled his eyes and settled cross-legged on the floor.

You found yourself caught in a strange mix of emotions. The laughter and tears that had been at odds earlier now seemed to blend into a bittersweet symphony. The camaraderie and support from your brothers were a soothing balm for your wounded soul. It was as if the disaster you had unleashed earlier was being slowly pieced back together, not perfectly, but with a promise of conclusion.

With a small sigh, you finally let go of the tension that had gripped your body, allowing yourself to relax into the makeshift circle of comfort your brothers had formed around you. The room felt warmer, the air lighter, and the fine line between chaos and resolution became a bit clearer.

"I needed to let it out...I needed this to happen," you admitted, a small smile playing on your lips. "I am sorry about the execution, but sometimes, it's hard for me to see beyond the mess."

"That's what we’re for, right?" Quinn reassured, exchanging glances with Jack and Luke. "To help navigate the mess."

"Yeah, like, y'know, sometimes it takes a breakdown to experience a breakthrough," Luke spoke, still seated on the floor, tilted his head thoughtfully.

"Pack it in, Einstein," Jack teased, earning a playful shove from Luke.

"Yeah, yeah," Luke grinned, his eyes flickering with a rare vulnerability. "I've been paying attention, y'know."

The room filled with a light-hearted atmosphere as your brothers continued their banter. It was a strange dichotomy—just moments ago, you were drowning in a sea of self-loathing, and now, you found solace in the warmth of your siblings' presence– a solace you hadn’t allowed yourself to experience in a while.

Luke's eyes softened as he caught your wandering gaze once again, a silent understanding passing between you two. The air was completely clear between you and him. It was a relief to know that beneath the chaos of the evening, there was a foundation of unwavering support on his half which allowed for the knots in your stomach to gradually loosen.

"You're not alone in this, Y/N." Quinn leaned in, ruffling your hair affectionately. "We've got you…always."

"But I should go talk to Mom and Dad, shouldn't I?" You spoke up, looking at your brothers nervously. "I feel bad that I just left them there."

"What did we just talk about?" Luke poked your leg, "No feeling bad is allowed and I know that Mom and Dad don't want you to feel bad, they just want to see you be yourself again." You nodded and took a shallow breath in before letting it out. "Now bring it in team!'

Luke grinned as he flung himself towards you, landing on top of you, his arms outstretched to drag Quinn and Jack into the somewhat embrace, crushing you in the chaos.

"Luke—" you choked out, your eyes wide as Jack and Quinn struggled to get loose from Luke's chokehold.

"You love me, I know!"

"Yes, but please get off...I can't breathe!"

I hope you guys enjoyed this, I have a bunch of other imagines on the way ranging from more hughes!sister ones to ones based on the boys themselves 🫣

#hughes!sister #luke hughes x reader #quinn hughes x reader #jack hughes fluff #quinn hughes imagine #wineauntie #jack hughes x reader #nhl x reader #platonic #hughes brothers x y/n #hughes brothers x reader #fluff #hughes brothers fluff #quinn hughes fluff #luke hughes fluff

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shotmrmiller · 3 months

Note

WHAT YOU WROTE WAS AMAZING PLS IM SOBBING I LOVE IT SO MUCH GIVING U SMOOCHES

but okay so you sleep by yourself that night he comes home. you know he goes out with the boys — mostly on the weekends but sometimes the weekdays too — so when he comes home just a bit later than usual it doesn’t ring any alarm bells even if you pout a little. and you damn near run into his arms and snuggle into his neck only to smell — not him. something, someone else has touched what you thought was yours.

you pull back from the hug to look him over further. clothes mussed up, lips looking like they were bitten, a little flushed. a little like when you two —

you swallow thickly, throat lining with glass and tears as you suck in a breath. you find that you can’t actually form words for a moment, worried that only bile and venom would come out.

“did you fuck someone?”

he looks panicked — guilty — and you don’t even need him to say it for you to know what he’s done.

“who?” you ask, voice barely there, only able to be heard over the icy silence that followed your question. he replies one of the other pets. you nod, more to yourself than anything, trying not to scream your heart out at him.

but your heart cracks the moment he opens his mouth.

for the first time since you began living with him, you slept alone.

(you did scream at him. tripping over your words and panicked breaths and streams of tears. how could he do this. he didn’t call, didn’t ask. did he even think to? did he even care?)

you’re exhausted. too tired crying like you’ve never cried before, feeling like the weight of betrayal is crushing you as you sleep.

you almost fear that it’ll kill you.

the next day — friday — he knocks on your door before he goes to work. he tells you to have a good day. you don’t acknowledge him.

but you miss him. you absolutely fucking hate him but you miss him so much, it hurts. that particular ache is almost worse than the one of betrayal.

almost.

by mid day, you figure you should give him a chance to talk. he obviously feels guilty, and you love him. despite everything, you love him.

so you clean yourself up and try to look a little pretty for him, wearing a cute slip lingerie dress and bows on your ears.

you clean up around the flat a little. you fold his clothes — he’s been grumbling about it lately and always say he’d do it later. so you do it for him, folded with precision and left to sit on the edge of the bed.

you’re still upset and anxious and everything in between. the nerves make it hard to feel anything and you feel too sick to eat. but you nibble on some bread, knowing he wouldn’t want you to neglect yourself. you love him.

when it starts getting later, you decide to make him his favorite cookies. it’s been awhile since you’ve made him anything, and you’ve always enjoyed making these for him. the sweetest kisses tend to follow.

the night rolls around to the point where you know he’s off work. it’ll take him a little to get home, so you settle on the couch and wait.

but as the hours tick by, later and later, the worry grows and gnaws and threatens to split you from the inside out.

maybe he’s out with the boys again? you’d think, given the circumstances, he’d want to come home to you. but old habits die hard, you suppose.

but it gets later. and later.

later than he ever would be out even when things were perfect between you two.

it shatters you. where was he? what was he doing? was he —

the thought makes you sick.

he comes home after midnight. after you wretched in the toilet and cried yourself to sleep — again.

didn’t he love you too?

he sees the cookies put away in a container and a pit grows in his stomach, a void ready to eat his heart. whatever is left of it, anyways.

there’s a note sitting on the top.

“sleep well.”

the writing was shaky and it looks like a few tears spilled onto the words as you wrote them.

your usual xoxo at the bottom was crossed out.

you beat me to it:)

you bloody beat me to it. Fool me once.

your eyes are blank as if the life had all but faded from them, and in a way, they had.

Sitting him down, you calmly, (calmly, because there is nothing in you left other than acceptance, and youll be damned before you ever beg a man to want you) say, "I'll be leaving in the morning."

He tries to say something but nothing he could ever say will fix what he chose to break. "No, the fact that i'm even bothering to tell you is a courtesy you don't deserve. You've made your bed, now continue to lie in it with whoever you keep seeing after work." Smoothly, you get up and walk towards your room.

There is no rancor in your heart for whoever it is he's been with. After all, the one in the relationship with you was him.

You stuff a towel under the door, covering the gap, and clutch your collar to your chest, letting the last tears youll ever cry over him track down your cheeks. He doesn't deserve to see nor hear your pain.

You call an uber while he's at work and disappear.

When he comes back home, the place is dark and empty. He sits at the dinner table alone, with two fingers of whiskey in front of him, and in his hand is the last note you left him, stiff with dried tears and an xoxo at the very bottom.

What makes him crumble is when he sees the glint of your personalized collar on his nightstand, and it finally hits him that you're gone. For good.

listening to eurielle while writing epic sad is just chefs kiss.

#i am LIVING for this angst i stg #my anons are incredible #better than me in every way shape and form #task force 141

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crimsonvictory · 11 months

Text

HELP

MINORS DNI

Word Count: 3.3k

Tags: Simon Riley x Reader, Ghost x Reader, Ghost smut

Warnings: Overstimulation, pussy!drunk Ghost, tipsy!Ghost, CONSENT IS IMPORTANT

Notes: I’ve never wrote anything about Ghost so please be kind :)

———————————————————

You don’t know exactly when the troubled soldier began stopping by your barracks when the voices of the dark recesses of his mind wouldn’t quiet down.

It wasn’t uncommon. Mostly everyone in your unit was accustomed to night terrors. In a sickening way, it made you feel a bit better about yourself, knowing that you weren’t alone. Everyone had their demons. Yours had been especially bad lately.

Everyone kept to themselves. Seeing as asking for help as a sign of weakness. Typical stigma. Riley especially kept to himself, only appearing when he was needed. Although, he thought he wasn’t worth a damn.

You had been made aware of Riley a few years ago, fresh meat thrown to the wolves. You were nervous, a new environment, a new team, and you immediately noted him as a pain in the ass once you made eye contact with him.

Riley was a cocky sonofabitch. All bark and bite when necessary. He was full of snarky quips and loved smoking cigarettes. To be honest, he liked the burn of the smoke - the way it would curl around in his lungs and leave him breathless - a reality check. As if he didn’t have them every damn day of his career.

He was a mystery and liked to keep it that way. No one questioned and those who did got their asses handed to them. You didn’t work with him very often, but when you did, he watched your six, kept you safe, and you did the same for him.

He was reliable. And you tolerated him for that. That night, you had awoken with a shout, gasping for air as you fought your way out of your mind. Your sheets were drenched with sweat, clothes clinging to the small of your back, pulse loud in your ears. You took a deep couple of breaths, re-orienting yourself in the living world. Your lips were dry and parched. You groan, throwing your covers off of your body and looking at the clock through bleary eyes.

2:27AM

You slid to the edge of your bunk, bare feet pressing into the cool floor. Standing up, you padded over to your door and snuck down the hallway into the kitchen. There, you grabbed a glass of water and a cigarette.

As far as you knew, no one knew you smoked - not your proudest habit. But when you dealt with the scum of the earth for your daily job, a cigarette wasn’t that bad in your opinion.

You chugged your glass of water before lighting your cigarette. Not wanting the smoke to fill the room, you open up one of the windows. You take a drag, inhaling the smoke into your lungs and holding it for a good twenty seconds before exhaling; watching the smoke slowly spiral out the screen in the window.

“Fancy a share?”

You nearly jump out of your skin, whirling around quickly and squinting in the direction of the voice. Your eyes are darting back and forth, trying to adjust to the darkness.

A tall, looming figure steps out of the shadows.

Riley.

“You fucking scared me!” you whisper-shout.

A shrug for a reply.

“You gonna share or not?” he asks again, a smirk in his voice.

You roll your eyes, holding out the cigarette and flicking ashes in his direction. He steps up closer to you, taking the rolled tobacco from your fingers. You turn away, giving him his privacy.

No one has ever seen Riley without a mask. Ever. No one questions it.

He takes a few puffs, blowing the smoke out and through his mask. The cigarette is passed back and forth between you two until it is nothing but ash. No talking, just silence. It’s comfortable.

You put the cigarette in the ashtray, grab a glass of water, and nod goodbye. One is returned to you.

Walking back down the hallway, you make it to your door and slip back inside. You know you are not able to go back to sleep, so you wash your face with cold water, brush your teeth, and fluff your blankets.

You lie on your bed, enjoying the cool night air that is cooling the sweat on your skin. Although you are not going back to sleep, you close your eyes. A smile spreads across your face, enjoying the moment that happened in the kitchen not too long ago.

Riley was a mystery card. He was starting to grow on you though. You were naturally curious about what he looked like. The only part of him you had seen were his eyes. They changed, sometimes dark and stormy, a cloud of black swirling in with the amber - usually after a mission - processing the day's work. Sometimes, when the sun would hit them, they looked like molten honey, flecks of gold peeking through.

A knock at your door startles you out of your thoughts.

You sit up warily, throwing your legs on the side of the bed and placing your feet on the floor. Walking over to the door, you stifle a yawn. You unlock the door and your eyes widen when you see him.

Riley.

Your brows scrunch in confusion. As you’re about to ask, he cuts to the chase.

“Can I come in?”

You’re taken aback, mind-reeling. Why in the world would your lieutenant want to come into your room? Had you done something wrong? You blink a couple of times, widening the opening in the door and stepping back.

He takes the opportunity, squeezing in through the opening of the door. He’s fucking huge, filling up your entire doorframe. You take a step back behind him before closing the door. Still trying to process, you turn back around. He’s looking around your room, silent and stoic.

You clear your throat, grabbing his attention. He’s standing there awkwardly, a bit like he has regretted his decision in coming down here.

“‘S Nice,” he murmurs, accent thick.

You hum, nodding in agreement. Your room was one place you wanted to feel safe in at the end of the day.

The silence is awkward now, not like the comfortable one you had shared earlier. You hadn’t really taken a look at him earlier, so now you do. He’s wearing black sweats that sit low on his waist and a form-fitting black t-shirt.

He looks good.

This is the least amount of clothing you’ve ever seen him in. You have never thought of him in that way. Your job was too stressful, too busy - and the fact that he was your superior was another daunting if.

You hadn’t noticed his eyes on you. You snap out of your reverie, only to find him staring at you. Your heart lurches, meeting his gaze. A predator and prey. You swallow a gasp as he lurks towards you.

His eyes are dark, troubled. You can see the pain in them as he gets closer. The white of his mask contrasted with the darkness swirling in his irises.

“L-Lieutenant?” you whisper, stepping back towards the door.

He’s silent, stalking forward until you are pressed against the cool, metal door. Your gut lurches, telling you that this was a mistake. Your heartbeat quickens and your mouth goes dry.

Why did you, not even second guess on letting him in?

He towers over you, leaning an arm above your head and resting on it. He’s close now, and you can smell the whiskey on his breath.

“Don’t be afraid,” he whispers, reaching a hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

You’re breathing heavily, chest rising and falling with panic. Your throat is constricting, and a cold sweat forming on your skin. The heat radiating between your two bodies is almost unbearable.

You don’t know what to expect from him. Riley is not predictable, which is what makes him such a force in the field. Your mind goes to a dark place involuntarily - a part of the job, prepare for the worst. You close your eyes, you can’t look him in the eye, not right now.

It’s embarrassing how affected you are. You try to calm your breathing. This cannot be real. You’re panicking, spiraling, letting the inky tendrils of despair grab you tight and pull you down into the depths.

“Look at me,” his voice is as clear as a bell, you oblige and open your eyes.

He’s looking down at you, and his eyes have softened a bit, could that be - concern?

You clear your throat, embarrassment flushing from your ears down your neck. He was never going to let you live this down. He grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your gaze up to meet him.

“Breathe,” he whispers, petting your chin with his forefinger.

His hands are covered with his signature gloves, hands that have killed in cold blood, hands that had you in between them. Your breathing starts to slow, you close your eyes for a moment before opening them again, peering up through your lashes at the man before you.

“Fucking Christ,” he curses, turning his head away for a moment.

He turns back to you, his eyes have darkened again. But this time, it’s something different - his pupils are blown wide - desire. His eyes are nearly black with lust. Your stomach flips, confused about all the signals you were getting.

“I need help,” he comments, looking up towards the sky. “Lord forgive me.”

Riley was not a religious man. You find it a bit funny. A smile threatens to break out on your lips. You are watching him silently, your teeth tugging on your bottom lip. He meets your gaze again before asking,

“Would you oppose me on my knees?”

Your brain short circuits, not fully understanding what he is asking. You are sleep deprived, still in shock that he was even in your bunk. You blink, looking up at him. Your mouth opens to ask,

“What are you askin’ me, Riley?”

He sighs a heavy, tired thing. He’s exhausted.

“I fancy your taste,” he slurs a bit. “Can’t stop thinkin’ about that little cunt of yours.”

Your mouth drops open, shock clearly evident on your face. You cannot even begin to wrap your mind around what he has just said. He doesn’t even give you a chance, just drops to his knees in front of you. He looks up through his lashes, eyes sparkling with desire.

“You gonna deny a man who is on his knees for you?”

Oh fuck.

Warmth spreads involuntarily down to your clothed pussy. You choke out a gasp. He looks so fucking pretty like this. Your mouth opens and closes and he just sits there, silent, waiting for your okay. How drunk was he? Would he even remember coming down here? Oh, you did not want to take advantage of him.

“L-Lieutenant-“ you start.

“Please,” he begs, almost a fucking whimper. It’s pathetic.

How could you tell him no? He was asking so nicely. You had been single for so long, and hadn’t had an orgasm in God knows how long. Your panties were already soaked. Fuck.

“Yes,” you whisper.

He’s on you immediately, grabbing your legs and yanking you forward. You yelp, stumbling closer to him. Riley quickly removes his gloves and steadies you by placing a hand on the back of your thigh. He slides it across and loops back near your inner thigh, grabbing a hold of you. No going back now. You steady yourself, not really sure where to put your hands.

He taps your right thigh and then taps his shoulder, wanting you to set the hinge of your knee over it. You oblige, grabbing his shoulder to steady yourself. He leans forwards, up towards your core and fucking inhales, taking in your scent. You whine, squeezing his shoulder.

He rolls the bottom of his balaclava up, exposing his mouth before placing kisses along your inner thighs. His lips are soft, you feel a scar on his upper lip. He licks a stripe of your skin, tasting you. A low hum comes from him, pleased with your taste. You are burning hot with a flush, it spreading from your ears and down your chest. Your body is arching into his touch, desperate for any attention.

You wish you could run your hands through his hair. You pet the top of his head gently, a repeated motion to soothe your nerves. Riley reaches up into your sleep shorts, tracing your folds through your underwear, Your knees nearly buckle and he tightens his grip on you. His bare hands feel good on your skin, erupting goosebumps along your thighs.

His index finger loops around the bottom of your panties and pulls them to the side, exposing your dripping folds.

“Fuck,” he groans. “Look how wet you are.”

You blush again, turning your head away in embarrassment. He leans up, making his tongue flat and licking a stripe up your folds. You gasp at the sensation. He repeats this again, getting your taste ingrained on his tongue.

“O-Oh,” you gasp, loving the feeling of him exploring the most sensitive part of you.

He growls, tightening his grip and picking up the pace, swirling figure eights through your folds and around your clit. It feels so good. Your chest is heaving as you struggle to catch your breath. He’s like a man starved, lapping at your pussy like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do.

You are making an absolute mess, dripping down his chin and onto the front of his shirt. It’s taking everything in you to keep quiet, biting back your moans into your hand. You involuntarily grind down against his face and he goes fucking feral.

“Fuuuuuck yes, use my fucking face,” he grunts out in-between devotions to your cunt.

You are near tears, it’s so overwhelming but in such a pleasant way. You have never ever received pleasure like this. He was fucking devoted to you, making sure to milk every last drop.

The noises his mouth and your pussy had been creating were obscene. The smell of your arousal had filled the room and you didn’t even care. He was thriving on it. Your first orgasm was approaching, white-hot pleasure building in your lower stomach and taking you by surprise. Your knees start to buckle as it sweeps over your body, Riley not even stopping as your brain goes into overwhelming pleasure.

You cry out his name, sobbing around his tongue in your folds.

“S-Simon!”

It’s fucking euphoric, your body floats up, up, up, and then comes back down to reality. You slam back into your body, aware that Simon is still continuing his ministrations. You gasp at the overstimulation, pushing his head until he finally pulls away.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen anything prettier.

Simon, on his knees, absolutely drunk off of your pussy. His pupils are blown so wide that his irises are completely black. He’s not even here with you, he’s fucking gone. Your slick is painted on his lips and down his chin. His chest is heaving.

He makes eye contact with you, licking his lips and sliding his hand down to adjust himself. He’s nearly straining through his sweatpants, erection ever so present. Such a people pleaser.

You moan at the sight of him.

“I’m not done with you yet.” he drawls, getting up onto his feet and towering over you again.

You blush, line of sight dropping down to your feet. His finger tilts your head up, bringing your lips mere inches from his.

“Have a taste,” he whispers before crashing your lips together.

He’s overwhelming, a clashing of teeth and tongue as he explores your mouth, not wanting any part to go untasted. You moan, tasting remnants of whiskey, your shared cigarette, and your own pussy.

It makes heat flood your core again. He frames your face with his hands, exploring your mouth with his tongue. Riley leaves you absolutely breathless. He pulls away suddenly, putting his index and middle fingers to your lips.

“Suck,” he orders.

You oblige, taking his fingers into your mouth. You swirl your tongue around his fingers, bobbing your head up and down just a bit.

He groans, watching you through half-lidded eyes.

“Good girl,” he coos, pulling his fingers from your lips with a pop.

His hands make their way down to your hips, yanking your shorts and underwear down - leaving your bare skin vulnerable. You shiver, scooting closer to the man before you. He flips you around, walking you back until the backs of your knees hit the mattress. You sit and then lay back against your plush pillows.

He follows suit, laying on his left side. His arm snakes its way behind your head, providing a cushion. So caring, you think. The other trails its way down to your folds. He swipes his fingers through your slick, repeating this a few times before sliding back up and grabbing the bottom of your inner thigh. He yanks in an upwards motion, pulling your legs open for him. You spread them wide for him, nervous about his next move.

His fingers trail down, down, down to your entrance. He slides a finger inside and you gasp, the feeling unusual. He starts slow, picking up the pace when he feels you relax for him. You’re a hot mess, moaning around his long fingers. He’s got two into you now, scissoring and thrusting your walls open. You’re a writhing mess, wanting him in every part of your body.

He curls his fingers in a “come here” motion, finding that spongey spot that makes you see stars.

“Oh, fuck Simon.” you gasp, eyes rolling in the back of your head.

He chuckles, slowing his thrusts down. You whine, lip pouting out in disappointment.

“We’ve got all night, little one,” he says sneakily, dragging your second orgasm out of you.

It’s shorter than the second but more intense. It punches you in the gut, taking your breath away from you. You cry out, sobbing around his fingers. You sink down on them, milking your own pleasure. You’re gasping for air, slowing down as your pleasure settles.

You’re already exhausted, your body feeling satiated from your pleasure. Simon slinks down in between your legs, laying on his stomach. A whine leaves your body, he’s insatiable, ready to please you again.

“S-Simon,” you weakly protest.

His gaze catches yours, a glint of mischievousness in his eyes. He keeps eye contact with you as he slides his tongue up and down your folds before thrusting it inside of you. You clamp around his tongue, sobbing softly.

He thrusts in and out of your hole, lapping up your juices willingly. Not a drop wasted. You feel movement at the end of the bed and notice he is getting himself off by pleasuring you. He’s thrusting against the bed, groaning into your pussy. You hear his words of praise mix with the sloppiness of his mouth.

“Taste so fuckin’ good.”

“Such a good girl for me.”

“Atta’ girl.”

You sob, thrusting your cunt into his awaiting mouth. You’re fucking addicted to him. He willingly takes everything you give him. You hear him choke out a moan, hips stuttering into the mattress.

It sends you over the edge and you come again. Sobbing while you try to pull away and thrust into his tongue at the same time. You are in pure bliss, completely satiated. It takes a moment before you come back, you barely hear his words.

“One more, just one more for me sweet girl,”

You let him take from you. You give, give, give until you can’t anymore. Your body is spent, satisfied, and oh so loved. He spends hours worshipping your body. When you physically cannot give anymore, he cleans you up, tucks you into bed, gives you a kiss on the forehead, and slips out of your room.

When you wake the next morning, you are so sore, but there is no regret at all. You sit up, stretching and letting out a soft groan. You look over to your bedside table. There is a glass of water and a cigarette. You smile.

The next time he visits, you’re more than happy to help.

#simon riley #ghost x reader #simon x reader #cod simon riley #cod smut #ghost x you #simon riley x you

2K notes · View notes

rollinouttahere-writes · 5 months

Note

platonic yandere Crocodile ad daughter reader

As you can see from the word count, I got extremely carried away. Hope you enjoy it!

Was It Worth It?

Yandere Sir Crocodile x Daughter Reader

7.5k words

Most would say that you’re spoiled.

Honestly, you can’t argue against it.

Your father was committed to giving you the best of the best in life and made no exceptions. As far as he was concerned, you were the only person in the world that was worthy of luxury and relaxation. And given that your father was renowned warlord Sir Crocodile, giving you such a lifestyle was an easy feat.

Designer clothes and accessories filled your closet and fluctuated as styles evolved, all of your meals were expertly crafted by either a personal chef or the staff of a high end restaurant, and you had everything you could ever need for your hobbies. You even had your own pet bananawani, Lady Camorra, though she was still just a baby. Despite that, she was already the size of the lengthy dining room table and had to stay with the other bananawani in the basement.

All of this was accepted eagerly. What can you say? You’re a daddy’s girl.

The only responsibilities you had was to your dear pet and your studies, something that your dad was adamant about. Becoming a pirate like he did is distinctly not an option for you, that much has been made clear. What options you did have for your future were still very much a mystery to you, it was hard to believe that he would ever let you go out and get a job.

You couldn’t even go outside by yourself.

Not that it bothered you all that much. Despite the restrictions, you made outings with your dad (and typically his most recent assistant, Robin) frequently. He was a major public figure here in Alabasta and made many appearances for the sake of his reputation. Naturally, you would be brought along as well.

Most of the time, these were casual trips to go out to a nice restaurant or shopping. The only people that would be there at the same time as you would be the staff. You honestly wished there would be more people around, but when you voiced this, Crocodile would simply state that it was for safety and leave it at that. Which did make sense, you suppose. You weren’t so sheltered as to not be aware that your father has many enemies.

You were grateful for how pleasant your life has been and appreciated how hard Crocodile worked to provide it to you. Which is why you wanted to get him a gift for his birthday next week.

The most you’ve been able to do in the past is make him a card and some simple craft project you worked on. As much as you’ve wanted to get him a more proper present, you didn’t exactly have the means to do so. That, and he kept insisting that he doesn’t need you to get him anything. Usually he would say something cheesy along the lines of ‘your being here is gift enough’.

This year was going to be different, though. It took a great deal of planning, but you’re finally going to be able to surprise your dad with a real present this time! It took months of saving, but you’re pretty sure you’ve scraped together enough to buy him a new ring from a local jewelry store. It would probably surprise many to know that you don’t receive much for an allowance. It made sense though. Crocodile buys you everything you could ever need or want. The allowance was just some pocket change for you to go buy snacks from the casino you lived above.

Today was the day. Everything was going perfectly. You’d woken up early to get your studies done ahead of time. If you didn’t have everything finished, your personal bodyguards weren’t permitted to escort you down to get a treat. The timing of finishing early was crucial because Crocodile was due to make a public appearance at a neighboring city today, but it was only a brief one so you needed to make your excursion quick.

The biggest hurdle ahead of you was being able to ditch your guards and slip out of the casino unnoticed, but you had a plan. Once you got downstairs, you would go to the bathroom, put on your desert cape and a scarf to cover your face, and make a run for it. It’s far from being fool-proof, but it’s your best shot. Your guards aren’t allowed to take you out of the building, and you know no amount of begging will sway them. Though you do hope they won’t get fired over this, that would make you feel terrible.

All that you could do in this moment was try to get through your schoolwork as quickly as possible. Ideally, you wanted to leave shortly after Crocodile did since your window of time to do this wasn’t long. Three hours at most, based on how long these types of appearances usually take.

The door to your private study is opened, and you don’t need to look over your shoulder to know who it is. Heavy but precise footsteps come up behind you, and a large hand rests on the back of your chair.

“I’m going to be heading out now, do you need anything before I leave?”

As per usual, your dad’s main concern was you, feeling the need to ask the question despite knowing full well that you would absolutely be fine until he came back.

You giggled at the inquiry, “I think I’ll be okay for a couple hours, dad.”

Crocodile loomed over your desk, checking up on what you’re actively working on. His eyes narrowed as he read over your shoulder, “You’re typically still working on mathematics at this hour, why are you doing your history lesson already? You didn’t skip subjects, did you?”

Internally, you cursed at how observant your dad was. Of course he would notice this! The grip you had on the history book tightened as you scrambled to explain yourself, “Oh, um… No, I woke up early today and decided to just go ahead and get my schooling done.” You looked up at him and plastered on the most sweet and innocent smile you could, praying that he would buy it.

Crocodile’s eyebrows raised slightly, but the rest of his face remained neutral. Teeth ground against the cigar in his mouth as he considered your words. After a moment, he switched his focus to the books on your desk. Without responding to you, he brought one of them over to himself and began flipping through it, and then proceeded to do the same with a few more books.

He nodded, seemingly content with what he found, “Good work, that was very responsible of you.” His one hand gently pet your hair and he offered a small but genuine smile. “How about we get dinner at that one restaurant you really like tonight?”

Your eyes lit up and you bounced in your seat, “The one that has the really good ice cream?!”

“Of course you’re already thinking about dessert.” Crocodile chuckled, “But yes, that one.”

Lurching out of your chair, you wrap your arms around his torso and squeeze him into a tight hug. One that he returns gently while lightly laughing at your enthusiasm, “I’ll assume this is your way of saying that you would like to go.”

“Oh, yes! Please!”

“Very well, I’ll make the reservation now.” By that, he means he’s going to call and tell them to have the place cleared out before you two get there. “I have to leave now, be good and finish your studies.” With that, he exited the room and you could faintly register the sound of the front door opening and closing.

You resumed your work, eager to finish your final subject so you could get on with your plan. You bit your lip as you mulled over your newfound dilemma. Crocodile probably won’t take you out for dinner if you sneak out for a bit, even if it is for a good reason.

Maybe you could do this without being caught? If you really hurried and were successful at sneaking back into the casino, you might be able to gaslight your guards into thinking that they simply didn’t see you leave the bathroom. It would only be natural for you to keep walking and assume they were following you. They would likely be too embarrassed to bring this situation up to your father. Yeah, that should work. Hopefully.

With a newfound sense of determination, you complete your studies.

Gleefully, you scurry back to your bedroom to grab your purse. Your dessert cloak and scarf were already compactly folded and stuffed inside. You just needed one more thing and you would be ready to set your plan into action.

Unfortunately, there was no way for you to ask about your dad’s ring size without raising suspicion, so you would need to borrow one to bring with you. This wasn’t a problem, however. You frequently help him pick out which rings to wear in the morning, so you know exactly where to find them and what the combination to the safe is.

It was crucial that you didn’t leave a single clue that you’d been in his room while he was gone, so you were careful not to disturb anything besides the safe. Airing on the side of caution, you even take note of the exact position the knob is in so you can keep that minute detail the same. It would hardly be shocking for Crocodile to notice something like that.

After the safe door is open, you pull out the first ring you see, not wanting to disturb any of the other rings in here. It’s a sturdy golden ring with small but dazzling rubies decorating the band. He wore this one on his index finger somewhat regularly.

You slip the ring into your purse and spin on your heels, eager to leave so you can get on with your mission.

Making a conscious effort to keep your face neutral so as to not allude to being up to something, you open the front door and greet the two guards stationed outside of it, “Hi! I wanna go downstairs to that cute bakery in the lobby!”

One of the guards, an absolutely massive man named Abasi, regards you lightly, “We can’t do that until you’ve finished your schooling, you know that.” His voice was naturally gruff, but he spoke to you politely. His head was shaved clean minus the well maintained goatee he sported.

Summoning your best acting skills, you pout dramatically, “I am done, though! I woke up early and already did all of it.”

Tabia, a lean but distinctly tall woman with a scar running down the side of her face and parts of her neck eyed you warily, “Really, now? Then you won’t mind if I confirm that, yes?”

“Not at all!” You chirped happily, gesturing for her to come in and do just that. Continuing to stand in the entryway, you do your best to look as sweet and innocent as possible while Abasi continues blocking your way.

It doesn’t take long for Tabia to return, giving Abasi a silent nod to verify that your story was true. He nods back and finally steps out of the way, “Apologies for the inconvenience, Lady (Y/N).”

“Oh, it’s no problem,” you hurried past him so you could lead the way, but also avoid them possibly seeing something in your facial expression that could give you away. Now that you’d gotten the ball rolling, anxiety was starting to bubble in your stomach at all the ways this could go wrong.

All three of you enter an elevator at the end of the hall to bring you down to the lobby. The bodyguards are standing between you and the door, both with their backs to you as the lift begins its slow descent.

It’s quiet for a moment, but Tabia breaks the silence, “I’m surprised you wanted to do this, you haven’t requested to visit the lobby in months.”

Briefly, you wince at the observation. You suppose this fact would be suspicious in its own right. You’re quick to throw out an excuse and pray it sounds believable, “Haha, yeah. I guess I just got kinda burnt out with everything down there, but I’m really craving some baklava right now.”

“Makes sense,” was the only reply you got. You have to suppress the sigh of relief from them accepting the answer. This is going well so far, you can only hope that remains the case.

The elevator slows to a stop with a quiet ding and the doors slide open. Both guards step out first and scrutinize the surroundings before motioning that it’s okay to come out. Now that you’re where all the other people are, Abasi and Tabia station themselves on either side of you.

This was it, time to really get things started, “I have to go to the bathroom.”

Tabia’s eye, the one with the scar over it, twitched ever so slightly, “Can you not wait until you’re back in the safety of your home?”

You pressed your legs together and bounced slightly, “No, I really need to go. Like, now.”

She exhaled sharply, but changed course for the nearest public restroom, “Very well, we’ll wait outside for you.”

“Thank you!” You rushed past them and into the bathroom to maintain the fake urgency you’d just created. Of course, you didn’t actually have to go. Frantically, you run into an unoccupied stall and rip the clothes out of your purse to throw them on. There’s no time to make yourself look nice in them, you need to be out of here tout de suite. They’re going to be expecting you to finish your business in a few minutes, not a few seconds, so doing this as fast as humanly possible was the key here.

You grabbed the wallet and ring from your purse and inverted it. The handbag you’d chosen for today was reversible, something done intentionally so as to make it less likely for the guards to recognize you when you walked past them.

Your belongings were stuffed back into the purse and you ran out of the stall with the same speed that you entered it in. The handful of people in here with you shot you weird looks, but none of them appeared to have gotten the chance to recognize you when you came in. After a brief glance in the mirror to confirm that your scarf was obscuring your face, you ran for the door.

Time to act casual. Despite your previously frenzied state, you open the door and exit calmly. You keep your head down and do your best to look as unassuming as you can. Abasi and Tabia are silently standing outside, observing the crowded casino. They pay you no mind as you walk past, barely sparing you more than an instinctive glance before looking away.

They didn’t recognize you!

As much as you want to squeal in excitement, now is definitely not the time. You weren’t out of the woods yet. There was still a chance that you would be recognized at the main entrance. That, and you’re pretty sure the guards would immediately put the casino into lockdown as soon as they realized you weren’t in the bathroom. Which wouldn’t take long, Tabia has come into the bathroom to check on you before if she thinks you’re taking too long.

The casino itself was extremely loud as per usual. Between the chatter of the patrons and the noise of dozens of slot machines being played all at once you were positive that no one will be able to hear your heart pounding out of your chest. Guests were bumping into you as you slipped into the crowd to blend in better, which was a new sensation thanks to your guards always keeping people well away from you.

It was a touch overwhelming. You didn’t hate it, though.

The sparkling glass doors of the entrance came into view, and as much as you wanted to run through them, you refrained. That would look way too suspicious. The doors were already propped open, all you needed to do was walk through them and you would be in the clear.

You clutched your purse tighter to your person in a weak attempt to soothe your nerves. The instant your foot passed the threshold, one of the employees at the door spoke up, promptly causing your heart to leap into your throat. This is it, you’ve been caught!

“Have a nice day, miss! Please do come again!”

Oh, okay. You’re fine. You offer a small wave and a little ‘mhm’ because you can’t risk them figuring out who you are based on your voice.

As soon as you’re outside, you break into a power walk. Both to put space between you and the casino, but also to get to your destination quicker. Luckily for you, there was a jewelry store just down the street. If you really sped through the process, you think you could be back home in about ten minutes.

Convincing your guards that they simply hadn’t noticed you leaving the restroom would be difficult, but you’ll cross that bridge when you get to it.

No one paid you any mind as you jogged down the street, likely having more important things to worry about. This was another unique experience. Whenever you would go on an outing with your dad, people would gawk and even cheer to see him. Naturally, their fondness extended to you, though it was debatable if it was genuine or if they just saw you as an excellent networking opportunity. Right now, though? You were just some girl in a hurry, that’s it.

The jewelry store came into view. Blue Diamond Waterfall was etched into the sign outfront in an elegant, blue font. This was considered to be the best place to get accessories in all of Alabasta.

With your hopes high, you march into the store and make a beeline for the men’s section. High end watches glinted at you from their cases, but you ignored them. You were here for a ring, and only that. Finally, you see a display case containing just what you were looking for.

Unsurprisingly, all of the rings are gorgeous. The bands are expertly crafted with masterfully done engraved patterns, and the gems were cut to perfection. You smiled widely under your scarf. Crocodile would love these!

As your eyes rake over the wide selection, a thought strikes you. There are no price tags. You get an uncomfortable pit in your stomach as you suddenly question if you had enough for any of these. Was the absence of price tags a stylistic choice, or was this a case of ‘if you have to ask you can’t afford it’. You weren’t able to save up a particularly large sum of money, so you really hope it’s the former.

Before your anxiety can gnaw at you any further, an employee approaches you from the other side of the display case.

“Good morning! My name is Lapis, is there anything I can help you with today?” The individual standing across from you was an older woman with a kind face and graying hair.

“G-Good morning,” you were starting to feel embarrassed at the possibility that you would be leaving here empty handed and that your efforts would be for nothing. “Um, I was wanting to buy a ring, actually.”

“Well I can certainly help you with that! Might I ask what the occasion is that you’re shopping for?” Her voice was chipper and welcoming, which did help soothe you slightly.

“It’s for my dad, his birthday is soon and I wanted to get him something special.”

Lapis’s eyes softened and she brought a hand to her chest, “Oh, that is so sweet! I would love to assist you with that! As you can see, we have quite the collection of men’s jewelry here. Was there a specific price range you were wanting to keep to?”

Oh, boy. Here it goes. You fish your wallet out of your purse and pull out every bill you have in there before handing it to her, “However much this is… it’s um, all I have.”

She gracefully took the money and quickly counted all of it. Her lips pursed when she finished, and you could feel yourself begin to sweat. Were you about to get laughed out of the store for not having enough?

The berry was handed back to you and she spoke up again, “Alright, if you’ll follow me, we have a selection just over there that’s within your budget.”

Just like that, a weight was lifted from your shoulders. This excursion wouldn’t be a waste after all!

Lapis stops at the case at the very end and unlocks the cabinet to pull out one of the trays, and that’s when your heart falls again. Oh. These were the cheap rings. None of them had gemstones and there was little to no detailing done on the bands. That’s not to say that the rings were hideous, but they lacked the level of flashiness that your dad tended to gravitate towards.

You must have been visibly crestfallen from the realization, and Lapis was quick to reassure you, “It’s okay, there’s nothing to be upset over! It’s the thought that counts, I’m sure your father will be happy with whatever you give him. I understand that these may not be what you had in mind, but rest assured these are held to the same level of quality as any other ring in the store.”

In all honesty, you do believe that your dad wouldn’t care about the price tag, but if you’re going to be getting yourself into trouble getting him a gift you would at least want it to be something really nice. Still, it’s not like you have much of a choice. You’re not about to leave empty handed.

“Yeah, you’re right,” you muttered lamely.

“Do you know what his ring size is, dear?” If she noticed how bummed out you still were, she elected not to comment on it.

“Oh! I almost forgot, here,” you pull the ring you took out of your purse and handed it to her. “I didn’t know what his size was, so I just brought one of his rings in. I hope that’s enough.”

She pulled a key ring out with a bunch of loops on it and began comparing them to the ring. After trying a couple, she nodded, “Excellent, that was a smart idea on your part.” Lapis examined it for a moment before handing it back to you, “That’s a lovely ring, your father certainly has a keen eye for quality.”

Yep. And here you are in the cheap section.

As if she read your mind, she added on, “Which is why he’ll be happy with whatever you get him from our store.”

Whatever, now was not the time to mope. You were working off of a very limited amount of time right now and needed to get back to the casino sooner rather than later. You focused on the rings in front of you in hopes that one would stick out to you.

One did. While there was no stone in it, the band was carved out in a way that it resembled scales. Crocodile did have an affinity for reptiles. You could see him wearing something like this.

Lapis took notice of your lingering stare and smiled brightly while plucking the ring from its stand, “This would be an excellent choice, you must have inherited your father’s tastes.”

It’s placed in your hand and you take the time to carefully examine the piece of jewelry. You must admit that Lapis was correct about the quality here. There wasn’t a single flaw to be found, and it was in your price range. What more could you really ask for?

“Do you have this one in his size?”

She beamed at you, “I need to check, but I’m fairly certain we do. One moment, please.” She took the ring back and put it with the others before placing them in the safety of the display case. Briefly, she left the room to go look for the ring you want.

Your fingers drummed along the case while you glanced around the store. No one was paying you any mind, which was a blessing. Getting recognized out on the streets without guards would be disastrous. Even if the people didn’t have ill intent, you would be in deep trouble for getting caught outside.

Lapis came back looking quite proud of herself with a velvet ring box in hand. She cracked it open so you could see for yourself that your desired ring was inside, “Lucky you, it was the last one in stock!”

Lucky indeed. You would have cried if you couldn’t have gotten this ring. You followed her to the register to complete the purchase, ready to get out of here.

To say that you cut it close would be an understatement. You didn’t even have a hundred berry left over, but you did have enough and that’s what’s important. Lapis offered to get a bag for you, but you declined saying that you wanted this to be a surprise. An answer she accepted easily.

“I’m sure he’ll love it! You should come by again and let me kn-”

Suddenly, the doors up front were kicked open and crashed into the walls with deafening thuds.

“Everyone get on the ground, this is a robbery!”

You froze immediately and felt sweat drip down your neck. This could not be happening. No way.

A gunshot echoed through the store and a nearby display case exploded, showering Lapis and yourself with bits of glass. You shrieked and immediately dropped to the ground while a different voice repeated the previous order.

The box was tightly clasped in your hands, and in a moment of panic, you covertly stuffed it into an inside pocket on your desert cape. Just in time, too.

One of the assailants stomped his way towards the front desk where you were. Had you not been keeping your head down, you might have seen the kick coming. His foot connected with your ribs and sent you rolling away from him and through more glass.

“Out of my way, bitch!” He barked at you while you curled in on yourself and tried desperately not to cry. You glanced up just enough to see that you had apparently been sitting by where the door to get behind the counters was. Why couldn’t he have just asked for you to move? Asshole.

You tried to crawl out of the puddle of glass you were in, only for another man to point a gun at you and tell you not to move. So naturally, you resigned yourself to laying in shards of glass and your own blood as they continued to cut into you. Better to be injured than dead.

Risking another glance at all the people piling into the store, you picked up on something. They’re pirates. No wonder your father loathed them so much if this is how they act. These are exactly the kinds of lowlife brutes that he had described pirates as being.

Funny, now you’re hoping that Abasi and Tabia somehow figured out where you went and would be here any second to save you.

Well, more than that, even though you knew he would be furious, you just want your dad. You’ve seen him dispose of threats before on the rare occasion someone was stupid enough to try and challenge him while he was out with you. Of course, you had been a little frightened at their display, but you knew that your dad would take care of it. And he did.

But now he wasn’t here. He was in a whole different city. All you could do was hope that they didn’t hurt you more than they already have.

And that you wouldn’t be recognized.

Glass crushed under someone’s feet as you were approached. You flinched and curled up tighter in fear of what could come. A hand gently pulls at your shoulder.

“Sit up, honey, you’re hurting yourself,” Lapis whispered while slowly adjusting you into a sitting position. The pirates didn’t bother saying anything this time, instead being much more focused on bagging up everything they could as the shop owner went around unlocking the cases at gunpoint.

Once you were up, she began carefully brushing away the glass from your clothes. She sighed when she looked at your face and saw the tear tracks. Using part of your scarf, she did her best to clean off your face, “It’s going to be okay. They care about the jewelry, not us. They’ll leave once they’re done.”

Her light ministrations ceased, and she looked at you with furrowed brows. Then her eyes widened and your hood was pulled further down your face with shaky hands.

What? Why did she-

She saw your full face when she moved the scarf. She knew who you were.

“Keep your head down no matter what, okay?” Her voice was so low and strained that you could just barely make out the words. This was really bad, but at least Lapis was on your side here.

“That’s a nice purse you got there.”

The voice belonged to one of the pirates, the one that had kicked you. All you could do was cower. That was definitely directed towards you.

Despite you being frozen, Lapis acted quickly. She slipped the purse’s strap off your shoulder and tossed it away from you two. The pirate growled in annoyance, but ultimately turned to fetch it. You couldn’t care less about it being stolen, it’s not like there was anything in there that couldn’t be replaced.

Wait. Crocodile’s ring! The one you brought here with you! Shit!

You need to get that back, but what the hell were you supposed to do? Confront a violent pirate that has already attacked you once? Fuck it, the ring isn’t that important. At least the one you just picked out was still safely tucked away on your person.

The pirate let out a long whistle, “Damn, this is nice. How does someone with a ring like this have barely anything in their wallet?” He came over and crouched down next to you, shoving your shoulder when you didn’t answer, “C’mon, speak up. Wait, don’t tell me you were here to rob these bastards, too. Oh, that’s hilarious.”

Lapis pulled you into her side firmly, “Leave her alone, she’s just a child.”

“A child? She’s practically full grown from the looks of it,” he leered at your body, taking in every part of you that he could. From your peripherals, you could see his hand reaching for your hood, “Let me see your face, sweetheart. If you did steal that ring then I think there may be a place for you on my crew.”

You cringed and attempted to duck out of the way of his intruding hand, but all that did was anger him. Roughly, he grabbed your cape and yanked it off you so hard that it sent you tumbling backwards. Much to your horror, when you look up you see him holding not only your cape, but also the scarf.

You were entirely exposed.

The pirate, the captain of this whole awful crew, stared at you hard. Then, he doubled over and started cackling. His cronies looked back and forth between him and you as he laughed hysterically, visibly puzzled by his reaction.

“Forget the jewels boys, this girl is worth more than this whole damn city!” Not giving you a chance to even attempt to get away, he grabs you by your hair and forces you to stand. As if yanking you around by your hair wasn’t enough, you feel the chill of cold steel being pressed against your throat. A quick glance confirms your fears.

“What are you talking about, captain?”

The dagger at your throat is pressed even closer, enough so that you can feel the warmth of blood droplets dripping downward.

“This is Crocodile’s kid, and he’s going to pay us some damn good money to get his ‘little girl’ back in one piece,” the captain snapped at the crew member who dared to question what was going on.

“Cro- Did you say Crocodile?! Oh hell no, I agreed to help you rob a couple of places, not fuck with a warlord!” The pirate protesting this looked like he was about to bolt.

“Fucking relax, we’ve got him over a barrel by having her in our clutches, he won’t try shit. Besides, that government lapdog hasn’t done anything important in years, and he’s obviously losing his touch and becoming careless if he lets his kid walk around on her own.” He kicked at your heels and snarled at you to move it, “Let’s get out of here before anyone can try and stop us.”

You tried to struggle out of his grip, but it was useless. Frustrated tears poured down your face and mixed with the blood on your neck. Your sobs did nothing to deter the pirates who only laughed at your terror.

A sickening crunching sound cut through the air, followed by the dagger clattering to the floor and your hair being released. The captain’s body hit the floor with a loud thud and a tense silence fell over the store.

You can’t explain what possessed you to do it, but you slowly turned around to identify what happened. As soon as you laid eyes on the sight before you, bile rose in your throat and you stumbled back.

His neck was mangled and twisted, bones pressed against the skin in unnatural ways that made your head spin.

“What the fuck was that?”

“Were those arms?”

The pirates seemed to be just as disturbed as you as they paled from witnessing the horrifying demise of their captain.

Running was the most obvious course of action for you, but you couldn’t. Your body refused to move. Until you felt a hand on your wrist. Immediately, you screamed and tried to wrench yourself free, but the grip was like an iron shackle.

You crashed into a solid form and the smell of an expensive but familiar cologne filled your lungs. More tears stung at your eyes, not ones of terror but relief, “Dad?” You whirled around and latched onto your lifeline as your sobs began anew. You tried to articulate how scared you had been, or how happy you were that he was here, but you couldn’t form a single coherent word in your state.

The hand that had brought you over settled on the back of your head, holding you close. It was borderline crushing, but it helped to ground you.

When you found the strength to look up, you saw that he wasn’t looking at you. His eyes are locked onto the surrounding pirates who were all too scared to make a move. You’ve seen your dad irritated before, but you’ve never seen such raw fury on anyone. There wasn’t so much as a miniscule trace of humanity behind his eyes as he sneered at the people before him.

Without so much as a glance at you, you were shoved into someone else’s arms, “Take her home. Now.” Sand billowed off his body as his devil fruit went into action.

“Of course, sir,” you recognized Robin’s voice instantly and clung onto one of her arms helplessly as she guided you out of the store. You attempt to look back only for her to cover your eyes, “Don’t. You don’t need to see that.”

—

Hours would pass before you saw your dad again. The time passed in a haze as you were fussed over by doctors to treat your plethora of injuries. None of them were particularly serious, much less life-threatening, but there were many small wounds that all required the utmost attention. The worst part of it was them needing to pick out the tiny bits of glass from your knees, but compared to everything else that happened today, it was manageable.

Currently, you were laying on your bed with an ice pack pressed to your ribs to help with the bruising from the kick. Your fingers brushed over the velvet box in the pocket of your loungewear as you pondered if this was all worth it. The answer was obvious.

Of course not.

Footsteps that you would recognize anywhere approached your room. For once, you weren’t excited to see him. You knew that this would not end well.

The door opened and closed. Crocodile looked over your bandaged form for a moment, then came closer to sit on the edge of the bed. You had yet to look at him head on.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

“I just spoke with the doctors. Do not lie to me, you are not fine,” you could practically hear the scowl on his face as venom dripped off the word ‘fine’.

Risking a glance in his direction, his pinched features are about what you would expect. He was pissed, but not enough to lose his composure which was a positive. There was a noticeable amount of concern in his eyes.

Hesitantly, you reach out to hold his hand, a gesture he returns with a squeeze. “I’m sore…” you admitted, “but it’s not that bad, I guess.”

“I can’t put into words how relieved I am that you are alive and not hurt any worse than you are.” His eyes hardened and he continued, “With that said, what were you thinking?!”

The sudden raising of his voice made you jump. He’s never yelled at you even once in your life.

“Do you have any idea how dangerous and stupid that stunt you pulled was? How badly that could have gone for you if I hadn’t chosen to come back early?” A humorless laugh escaped him as he shook his head, “I knew it. I knew you were lying about something this morning, I just couldn’t determine what. If I hadn't listened to my instincts and continued with my plans for the day you could have been killed!”

“I’m sorry,” the apology sounds as weak and pathetic as you feel.

“I don’t want to hear it. What I want to know is what possessed you to do something so thoughtless. What could you possibly need from a jewelry store that you don’t already have? Was it just for the thrill or is all of this not enough for you anymore?” His tone was scathing as he gestured vaguely around your room at all the luxury items you owned.

There really isn’t any point in waiting now, is there?

“Your birthday is next week.” Gingerly, you pulled the box from your pocket and held it out to him, “I wanted to get you a real present for once. I’m sorry.”

Crocodile stared at the gift laid out for him, completely speechless. He released your hand and picked up the box, flicking it open with his thumb. His expression was unreadable, further adding to your previous fears of him hating the ring.

“I tried to save up enough money to get you something nice, but that was all that I could afford,” the explanation sounded lame, but it was the truth. Jewelry was much more expensive than you had thought.

“A-And I’m really sorry about this but I took one of your rings with me when I went because I didn’t know what size you were and it got stolen by one of the pirates. I d-didn’t mean for that to happen, but he already had my purse by the time I remember that it was in there.” You started to cry as the humiliation began to truly set in. You caused so much trouble and lost a ring he liked all for the sake of buying one that he didn’t even want. You were so stupid to think any part of this plan was a good idea.

Your lip wobbled as you wallowed in self pity.

Crocodile extended his hand to you, and you assume he’s giving it back to you because of how much he didn’t want it. You took it, but were surprised when his hand stayed there.

“Put it on.”

A loud sniffle came out as you shakily slipped it onto his index finger, “You like it?”

“I appreciate the effort you went through to get this for me, and it is pleasing to look at,” he admired it on his hand for a moment before staring hard at you, “But don’t you dare even think about doing something like this again. Do I make myself clear?”

You nodded vigorously. After how horrible this whole experience was, you would never so much as go past the front door without your dad by your side. You wouldn’t even go to the lobby anymore, not that you really think you’re going to be allowed to after this.

The second he opened his arms to you, you launched yourself at him, holding on for all it’s worth. His arms crushed you against him as he seemed to need this hug as much as you did. You reveled in the warmth and comfort his embrace provided.

“You’re grounded for the rest of your life, by the way.”

Despite everything, you couldn’t help but giggle.

“You’re laughing but I’m serious,” going against the previous statement, he chuckled a little himself.

Finally, he pulled you away from him and motioned for you to lie down again, “Get some rest. I’ve got some business to attend to, but Nico Robin will be around if you need anything.”

Rest sounded great right about now, and since you got some weight off your chest, you think you’ll actually be able to sleep unlike before. Yours eyes were already beginning to drift shut in the time it took for Crocodile to reach the door.

—

Crocodile glared at the simple ring adorning his finger. Not because he hated it or anything of the sort. Honestly, he found its simplicity charming to a degree. That, and it was a gift from his darling, albeit troublesome, daughter.

The problem lied in the fact that the only thing he could see when he looked at it was your terrified face as that filthy pirate attempted to take you hostage. Unfortunately, he would have to resign himself to learning to live with it because he’s going to have to wear this accursed thing every day for the rest of his life to spare your feelings.

Robin was already waiting for him in his office, something he was grateful for given how much he wanted to get his “business” done and over with. He sat at his luxurious desk and pulled out a much needed cigar, “Is everyone here?”

“Yes, they’re waiting for you in the basement.”

He nodded as his lighter ignited the end of his cigar and took a long drag. It did nothing to help his nerves. That wasn’t surprising though, considering the day he’s had. He spared a glance at Robin, “Were there any problems?”

“There was one runner, a guard that had been at the front door, but he’s been apprehended and is with the others.” Robin looked away and pursed her lips, “Is it truly necessary to have everyone on staff today down there, though? The few directly involved, I understand, but this seems excessive.”

“Excessive? My daughter could have been killed thanks to their negligence. I only hire the best of the best for security, they should not have been fooled by a goddamned scarf,” he seethed as he slammed his hook into the desk. The wood splintered from the force and the tip of the hook pierced it deeply.

What made the situation worse was that upon realizing that you were gone, your guards did not immediately call to inform him. Granted, he would have still killed them regardless, but it was the principle of it. The audacity to attempt to save their own asses by keeping your vanishing act a secret.

“(Y/N)’s safety is their top priority and failing to do the bare minimum of keeping her in the building is a grave mistake with a high cost. That cost being their lives.” Crocodile leaned forward and leveled Robin with a glare, “If you question what I’m willing to do for my daughter again, you will be paying the same price. Understood?”

She shivered under the intensity, but did her best to keep it together, “I understand, it won’t happen again.”

“It better not.” He stood up, heading for the basement to do what needed to be done, “Keep an eye on (Y/N) until I come back.”

“Yes, sir.”

#one piece #yandere one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #nico robin #sir crocodile #platonic yandere #yanderefangirl #crocodad series

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