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#now this can be chalked up to him being new or whatever
starlooove · 1 year
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So I’m not a fashion person or whatever but I think Miles should have a big ass hoodie over his suit at all times AND heelies! There’s actually a reason for the heelies too!
#ok so not exactly heelies#but like#technologically advanced skates??#idk man his shoes can turn into skates at will that’s all I got#anyways my reason for this is#that when miles starts getting into the swing of things#LMAOOOOO#anyways#when he really gets into it during spiderverse we see that he likes to do a lot of running in between his swings#and like. more than the average Spider-Man#now this can be chalked up to him being new or whatever#but I chose to think that he simply takes to that kinda parkour more#and we’ve only seen the trailer so if this is disproven I actually don’t care#I think this is how he manages to dodge and outrun the other spiders for the most part#they’re not used to his kinda swinging#in my au miles is rlly down to earth in comparison to the other spiders#who are chil but miles is just next level#and I think it shows in the way he swings#imma call miles kid arachnid from now on#so like. if ur an average NYer#ur a lot more likely to see kid arachnid walking around than swinging unless there’s an emergency#idk that’s just me#I saw a meta Abt the swinging differences on here when the movie first came out#and it stuck with me#anyways the heelies would help with parkour#when he wants to move fast but either can’t or won’t swing#he’s more likely to use the web to pull himself forward#and then up if he needs to#just the mental image of miles skating down the side of a skyscraper#also I think this is just how he’s used to moving due to being a graffiti artist
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cloudzoro · 3 months
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Pumpkin | Roronoa Zoro ♡
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
genre: smut with a little bit of plot (minors dni)
pairings: roronoa zoro x fem reader
wc: 8.4k words
cw: mutual pining, idiots to lovers, reader gets hit on in a bar multiple times, zoros feelings are all over the place bc he's a mess, monster cock!zoro, unprotected sex, soft zoro </3, marking, bad flirting
masterlist here
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
You have feelings for Zoro and you know it, Zoro has feelings for you and doesn't know it. Everyone is collectively sick of your shit. It isn't until you get hit on in a bar and Zoro has to step in that he realises how deep his feelings for you run.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
If you squeeze that glass any harder, it's gonna shatter,” says Nami, nodding at the glass of beer Zoro holds in his hand. Zoro waves her off, sparing her a glance just to glare at her before focusing on the cause of his irritation. You're standing at the bar of the dingy lounge, talking to Sanji and the random guy who's been showing you around the new island the strawhats had docked up at. The place isn't too busy, so he can see you without looking past a crowd. Unfortunately, he can also see the new guy you've met. The guy is interested in you, leaning in to talk to you, which gives Zoro a nasty feeling in his chest. He chalks it up to being protective; he doesn't like how the man looks at you. For once, Zoro is actually grateful for Sanji's presence. The tall cook at your side, looking as enraged as Zoro feels, is intimidating to the guy who backs up a little.
“Your girl’s talking to other men. If I were you, I'd kill the guy,” says Usopp, and Zoro rolls his eyes. He is not even bothering to answer. You're not his girl. You're just friends. Zoro isn't even sure he's capable of falling in love. You step back from the guy, clearly uncomfortable, and Zoro starts to see red. It isn't until Chopper and Usopp reach out to grab him that he realises he's even stood up. Ready to jump into action. “Don't make a scene; I'm really not in the mood for a fight,” says Usopp, trying his best to push Zoro back into his seat.
When his eyes focus back on where you're standing at the bar, Zoro sees that Sanji has stepped in and told the man off. You're safe now. The man had run away with his tail between his legs, but the bitter taste in his mouth is still there. He watches intently as you walk back to the table where the strawhats are sitting, with Sanji in tow and drinks in hand. You set another glass in front of him, and just as you walk away to sit on the other side of the table, he pats the seat next to him. You raise an eyebrow at his request, his un-Zoro-like behaviour startling you.
“Just don't wanna sit next to the dumb cook”, he grumbles, looking down at the table instead of at you. You nod and slide into the chair next to him. Now that he can feel your presence next to him, he feels the weight lift from his shoulders.
“So y/n, what happened?” asks Nami, always a fan of gossip. You go to answer, but you're immediately stopped by Sanji, who butts in with his own account.
“That horrible ugly man was trying to steal our precious y/n away for his crew. As if she'd ever leave us.” he huffs out. Luffy laughs at how idiotic the idea of you leaving would be. Zoro doesn’t speak as he watches you sip your drink and roll your eyes at Sanji’s dramatics.
“That loser was just hitting on me,” you say, trying to play it down to get the attention off of you. Despite first appearing extroverted, you aren’t too keen on attention being on you. It's one of the reasons Zoro gels with you much better than some of his other crewmates. Once the conversation switches from the almost bar fight to whatever crazy made-up story Usopp tells, you lean into Zoro’s side to speak quietly in his ear. “I saw you stand up earlier; you looked like you were gonna kill him. Thank you, even if you were held back,” you say, laughing at how ridiculous he looked. Your thanks are sincere, even if you still tease him for it. Zoro has been a silent protector for you since you joined the crew. Everyone knows you’re in his top three Straw hats, alongside Luffy and Chopper. As much as he tries to convince himself that you’re tied with your captain, you’re number one and almost pulling a lead. It's clear to the rest of the crew that the only people in the world who can’t see how you feel are you and Zoro. Zoro offers you an amused smirk, close to a smile but not quite, and raises his glass. You do the same, clinking your glasses and continuing with your drink. You re-enter the conversation, talking animatedly with Nami and Usopp, but Zoro is more than happy to sit back and watch his family in a rare moment of peace. He only speaks whenever Sanji makes a comment that riles him up.
Luffy and Usopp are terrible influences on you. Your captain and sharpshooter like to have fun, which often includes dragging you into their shenanigans. They’re always making terrible drinking games and challenges, egged on by Brook and Franky. You, not one to back down from a challenge, always end up joining them. You’ve put more alcohol away in one night than you have in the last month, and when it's time to leave, Zoro and Robin take it upon themselves to support you as you can barely stand up by yourself. You sway as the fresh air hits you harder than expected. You almost let go of Robin completely as you lean into Zoro. You mumble something about not wanting to walk anymore, and Zoro sighs, signalling Robin to carry on ahead. He crouches down and tells you to hop on his back. You do so, settling yourself and pressing your face into his neck. He hears you mumble a thanks into his skin before passing out.
This isn't the first time one of your crewmates has had to carry you back to the sunny, and it definitely won't be the last. Zoro doesn't mind your weight on him; he brings you to your room, sets you down in your bed, and takes off your shoes and jewellery as carefully as he can before leaving and walking out to the deck.
“One of you ladies should probably go in there just to make sure she doesn’t vomit in her sleep and choke and die”, he says as he walks up to the edge of the ship to look out at the sea. Robin says she’ll stay with you and walks to the girls' bedroom.
“So when will you tell her you’re completely in love with her?” asks Nami, startling him.
“When will you leave me alone so I can enjoy a peaceful night.”
“You’re deflecting.”
“You’re annoying,” he says, unable to defend himself in any other way. Nami sighs and pats his shoulder.
“You need help, dude,” she says condescendingly. Nami has mastered the art of irritating the men aboard the ship; it’s a form of entertainment for her sometimes. “The sooner you tell her you like her, the sooner you can bone, and then maybe you won't be such an uptight freak anymore.” Zoro can tell her own comment tickles her, but before he can spit out a sarcastic response, he is cut off by the voice of his airhead captain.
“Are we talking about Zoro’s y/n kink?” he asks, loudly chewing on the leftovers from earlier’s dinner. Zoro doesn't even dignify that question with a response. He stomps off to the boy’s bedroom and climbs into his hammock. Clearly, he’d only get peace aboard this ship by being unconscious.
✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
The next day, You wake up with a throbbing in your head, and your stomach turns as you run to the ship bathroom. You empty your stomach of nastiness and head to the kitchen to get some water to drink. Sanji put some food away for you with a little note, and it warms your heart how your boys care for you. You nibble your way through your breakfast and set about looking for where everyone is.
The first person you find is Brook, sitting on a chair and drinking tea. You ask him where everyone is, and he informs you that most of the crew have gone sightseeing in the city at the island's centre. He tells you that Zoro and Usopp are the only people still in the area. Usopp is in his room, recovering from last night, and Zoro is just in front of the sunny, taking advantage of the space to get in a good workout. You decide to go and bother him.
“Hi, Zoro,” you say, approaching him. “Need a sparring partner?” you ask; seeing him shirtless is an excellent motivator. He looks at you in your sweats and tank top and laughs. He knows those are your comfy clothes and just woke up.
“That depends. Are you gonna vomit on me?”
“No”, you get defensive about your weak alcohol tolerance despite having proved your lightweight status regularly. “I don’t even have a real hangover, just a headache” you insist.
“That is a hangover, pumpkin,” he says. Pumpkin isn't a pet name; it's a nickname you were given when you first joined the crew, and almost everyone except Luffy and Robin uses it. Yet it still makes heat rise in your cheeks when Zoro uses it. It sounds different coming from him than it does coming from someone like Franky.
“I’ll be fine, I promise.” If you keep pestering him, he’ll give in eventually.
“Fine, but I'm not going easy on you”, he says, enjoying how defensive you get at any insinuation of weakness.
“I’d be insulted if you did.”
✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
The sparring session ends when Zoro pins you down on your back for the fifth time.
“You’re getting better at close combat. It took me a lot longer to knock you down this time,” he says. They’re simple words of encouragement, but they make your stomach feel funny. When you catch your breath, and the adrenaline is out of your system, you realise that he's still on top of you. There's something different in how you look at him now, and you hope he doesn't notice it. You're fully aware of how your feelings for Zoro have changed in recent weeks, but you figure he doesn't feel the same way, so you've kept it to yourself. Zoro isn't the relationship type.
He seems to realise by himself that he's still hovering over you, so he quickly moves himself off you and helps you up. He mutters an apology and walks with you in silence back to the ship. In the silence, all you can think about is the view of a sweaty, shirtless Zoro on top of you. You want the image seared permanently into your brain.
When you return to the sunny, you get washed and changed. While you're in the shower, you can't help the way your fingers wander between your legs, pleasuring yourself with the thought of Zoro clouding your mind. The combination of an orgasm and a shower has refreshed you, and you decide to go into the centre to find Nami and Robin. You pass Brook on the way out, who has now been joined by Usopp.
“Were you showering with your boyfriend?”
The question stops you in your tracks. Boyfriend?.
“I don't have a boyfriend, Brook. What do you mean?” Usopp matches your confused expression, looking between you and Brook
“Are you not dating our swordsman?”
“No, of course I'm not. Why would you think that?!” you ask, exasperated by his audacity. Then it clicks in your head. You remember what you did in the shower that could've tipped him off.
“I heard you saying his name.” As the words leave Brook's mouth, Usopp gasps, finally realising where the confusion has come from. You must not have been quiet enough when touching yourself to the thought of him. Usopp looks completely embarrassed, and you hope he'll keep this secret. He's too ashamed of knowing something intimate about you.
“Nope. You were just imagining things. Anyway, I have to go and find Nami and Robin, so I'll be going now. Bye, guys, see you later,” you yell as you rush off the ship to escape the embarrassing situation as quickly as possible.
You catch up with Nami and Robin pretty fast. They split from the boys a while ago and are about to wander through a local market. They're happy to have you along as company, and Robin makes sure to ask about your hangover. You tell them that you were training with Zoro before coming out, and the mention of the green-haired swordsman makes Nami smirk. You already know how the conversation will go, but it's unavoidable.
“Did you finally tell Zoro how you feel about him?” she asks. You turn to Robin, and she just smiles and shrugs, which is code for ‘I want to know the gossip, but I don't want to seem like I'm not on your side’.
“No, because I've told you a million times that Zoro doesn't think of me that way. We had a training session today, and all he did was make fun of me for being a lightweight.”
“Are you stupid? He carried you home last night,” says Nami.
“Everyone's carried my drunk ass home at least once.”
“He's obsessed with you.” She laughs. “In every way.”
“I think Nami's right”, says Robin, and you feel like you're about to be driven crazy.
“I already told you he doesn't feel the same way. He's had so many opportunities to ask me out, and he's never even hinted at it. He's nice to me because we're close friends. That's it,” you say, frustrated at the topic. “it hurts, though; I really do like him”, you say sombrely.
They're good friends to you and respect your boundaries as much as they love to gossip. They can see you don't want to discuss Zoro anymore, so they change the subject to buying cute clothes. You look around the market for handmade garments by real natives of the area. Learning about other cultures through food and fashion is your favourite part of travelling the world.
When you arrive back on the Sunny, You go straight to the girls' quarters, avoiding Brook and Usopp, and put your bags of clothing away. You lay on your bed and let yourself completely relax into it, allowing the wear and tear of the day to seep out of your body.
Zoro, however, is less relaxed than you. Luffy has been asking him what he talked about with Nami all day. He feels seconds away from punching the over-excited man. He's repeatedly said he's not interested in a relationship and certainly not you. He's insisted time and time again that you two are just friends.
“oooh, how about you go into town with her and spend some alone time?” Before Zoro can interject and ask why, Usopp hurriedly continues. “it could be a good way to have a proper talk and find out how she feels about you.”
Zoro, angered by his friend's persistence, finally responds.
“If it gets you two idiots to shut the fuck up, I'll do it. But it's not because I like her or anything.” He says, getting up and dragging himself inside. He passes the girls’ quarters on his way down, decides to pull up his big boy pants and knocks on the door. When you call to open the door, he pushes it open and sees you relaxing. He insists he doesn't have feelings for you; you’re just close friends, but seeing you dressed down and chilled causes a switch in his brain. He wishes Nami had never said anything the night before, or he wouldn't be second-guessing his feelings towards you. “You wanna come into town tomorrow?” He asks, as straightforward as he always is. You nod and smile at him. He hums in acknowledgement and shuts the door as he walks down to his bed. You know Zoro’s personality, so his response - or lack thereof - doesn’t phase you at all. You let sleep take you as Zoro begins to cloud all your thoughts.
“They’re so into each other it's gross,” says Nami, crossing her arms. “I don't understand why they don’t just fuck and get it other with”
“At least y/n is aware of feelings. Zoro doesn't even know he's in love with her,” adds Robin.
“She’s too good for him; I don’t even know why you’re trying to play cupid with them” growls Sanji.
“They’re so obvious about it that Brook thought they were dating,” says Usopp.
“Yes, she said I was hearing things, but I'm sure I heard her moaning his name”, says Brook before Usopp can even attempt to stop him. Silence falls among the group, and Nami and Robin share a knowing glance. They leave the boys to continue gossiping and go to the girls’ quarter. You don’t open your eyes when the door opens, having heard Nami and Robin’s voices approaching. However, when you feel your mattress dip, you open your eyes to see both women sitting on your bed, smiling at you. While Robin is usually the more mature of the women aboard the ship, she still needs a good laugh now and then, and you can tell that whatever they’re about to say will annoy you. Nami’s Cheshire cat-esque grin proves they’re about to either embarrass or pull you into a scheme.
“so”, Robin starts, clearing her throat.
“We just want to warn you that next time you have a wild sex dream about Zoro, you should moan his name a little quieter,” says Nami, giggling at the look of exasperation on your face. It takes you all of two seconds before you realise that Brook and Usopp snitched on you, and you jump out of bed to confront them.
Brook hears you scream his name and knows you’re about to beat his ass and has the sense to run. Usopp, however, drops to his knees and apologises, hoping to appease you. The scene is entertaining to the rest of the crew, who all chime in about whether or not you should have mercy on Usopp.
✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
When morning comes around, you wake up and stretch. You spend a little extra time getting ready in the morning. When you leave the ship, Zoro is already waiting for you, leaning against a tree. He lets you take the lead as you walk into the town centre. The market stalls are busy, and you grab onto his shirt so you don't lose him. Zoro usually wouldn’t even bat an eye at the action. You’ve always had a mutual agreement to protect each other, but with the recent stirring feelings he's been forced to acknowledge, he’s hyper-aware of any physical contact between you. He’s taken some money from the ship to buy you food. At first, you don’t talk much, and he just watches you walk from stall to stall. You approach a stall selling jewellery, and Zoro stops behind you. The vendor looks over your shoulder at the man and pushes some chains towards you.
“What about something for your boyfriend?” she asks, and, to Zoro’s surprise, you don't correct the lady. You just nod and pick up a chain, turning to Zoro and signalling him to put it on. You don’t do it with ulterior motives; you just like buying your crewmates gifts. Maybe you didn’t correct the vendor when she called him your boyfriend to feed your secret crush, but he didn't correct her either, so no harm is done. When Zoro puts on the chain, he raises his eyebrow and asks what you think, and then he keeps it on as you pay the vendor. He still doesn't believe you have feelings for him or vice versa, so he thinks of the gift as a friendly gesture. You, however, keep getting distracted by thoughts of the chain you bought for him dangling over your face as he fucks you. He says something to you, and you have to ask him to repeat himself so you can focus on what he’s saying this time.
“We should go to that bar over there”, he suggests, pointing across the market to the bar you had been to a few nights before. You agree and follow him. You both decide to sit at the bar and get a drink each. Usually, small talk flows between you and Zoro naturally, but things seem awkward. You don’t know what's wrong with Zoro, but you’ve never seen him flounder like this. He excuses himself to the bathroom, and after he leaves, another man slides onto the seat next to you. You’re not interested, so you try to ignore his presence, and then he attempts to talk to you.
“You’re not from around here, are you? You stick out like a sore thumb,” he says, and before you can respond, he just keeps going. “I don’t mean that in a bad way, of course. You’re beautiful. What’d you say, I'll show you around?” You’d already been shown around when you first arrived on the island.
“I'm here with my boyfriend; he just went to the bathroom,” you say, hoping the guy will take the hint and leave. He doesn't and just continues to talk about himself and pitch himself as a potential partner to you. When Zoro exits the bathroom and sees the man speaking to you, he feels bile rise in his throat. You make eye contact as he approaches the bar, and your expression immediately shifts into a smile.
“Hi, babe.” The words shock him, and it takes him a second to process, but when he puts two and two together, he immediately helps you out by taking a step closer to you, so now he's stood directly behind you as you sit on the stool facing the strange man who’s approached you. He puffs out his chest and rolls his shoulders back to show off a little.
“Who’s this guy? Is he bothering you?” he asks. The role of a protective boyfriend comes naturally to him. You look up at him and nod, placing your drink on its coaster and backing up against him. His hand settles on your hip, and he internally panics about possibly going too far.
“I think we should go,” you say, grabbing his hand and turning to leave the bar. He feels that letting that loser stay in the bar and potentially harass other women while you have to leave the bar early isn't much of a punishment, so he grabs the guy by his shirt. You weren't expecting a bar fight immediately, but this is Zoro, so you take a step back and get ready to back him up if he needs it.
“You should go too; if I catch you anywhere near her, I will kill you. If I come here again and you're here, I will kill you,” he says, his other hand secured around one of his swords, and then he lets the man go. He hurries past you and out the door. When Zoro looks back at you, you’re smiling at him, and it shocks his system that you aren't even a little bit scared of him. He’s incapable of looking anywhere but you, but he knows the other patrons in the bar are watching him warily in fear. Not you, though. Your eyes are filled with something he’d never imagined to be directed at him: awe and respect. In that moment, he finally makes peace with the fact that maybe he likes you as more than just a crewmate.
“Thank you,” you say as you leave the bar. It seems like you’re always thanking him for something.
“Don’t mention it”, he says, brushing it off and focusing back on the market stalls. You pick up a few more gifts on the way home. Zoro accepts his feelings for you quickly, but now he has to figure out many other issues. Do you like him back? Is it possible for someone like him to pursue a relationship? Is he even worthy of your love? You linger on his mind when he returns to the men's quarters that night.
✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
You had spent the afternoon with the rest of the crew planning your next destination. When night finally fell, you had decided to stay out a little longer, chatting to the remaining crewmates who hadn’t gone to bed yet. When you get tired, you get up to go to bed, and Jinbe and Sanji thank you for their gifts and bid you goodnight. When you return to your room, Nami and Robin are waiting for you. You know they’re about to grill you for details about your day with Zoro.
“So, how did it go with Zoro?” asks Nami as you sit on the edge of your bed. 
“It was fun. A guy hit on me in a bar, and he pretended to be my boyfriend and then threatened to kill him. Poor guy almost pissed his pants,” you say, laughing at the memory of the terrified look on the man's face.
“And you still don’t believe he’s in love with you?” she says.
“He would’ve done the same thing for either of you,” you say in defence of yourself.
“Maybe he would’ve threatened the guy, but he would never have pretended to be my boyfriend,” says Robin. You sigh and throw yourself against the mattress.
“Why are you so resistant to the idea that he might like you back?” Robin asks. “Maybe some romance would do you good.”
“Robin’s right. You two are perfect for each other. He’s an emotionally constipated loser with no social skills, and you’re an emotionally constipated loser with slightly more social skills.” Nami has gotten up from her bed and is kneeling beside you, leaning over your face.
“That was mean”, you pout, looking up at her. “I’m not a loser.”
“But you do suck at emotions.” 
“It’s not that. I just don’t see why he would be interested in me,” you say, finally admitting what has been bothering you since you first developed feelings for him. The mattress on the other side of you dips, signalling Robin has joined the two of you. 
“Y/n sweetheart, you’re smart, funny, and beautiful. There’s no reason Zoro wouldn’t like you,” she says, reaching out a hand to pet your head.”We’re telling you he likes you, but he's probably having thoughts similar to yours.” Robin is always a source of comfort for you, so you appreciate her words.
“Yeah, and your boyfriend is dumb as rocks, so you have to tell him,” Says Nami. You groan at Nami’s word choice.
“Whatever, I think we should go to bed”, you huff, closing your eyes in protest. Name and Robin give each other an amused look and get off of your bed. You drift off to sleep, trying to push the topic of Zoro to the back of your mind.
✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
You’re in the shower the next morning; it's your final day on the island, and you’ll celebrate at a restaurant later in the evening. You think over your conversation with Nami and Robin, and you figure there’s a possibility they're right. Before confessing to him, you decide to test the waters first and see if Zoro has feelings for you. You’re not the best at flirting, but you decide you’re going to try to hint it to him. After your shower, when you’re all changed into your outfit for the day, you go to the dining area for breakfast. When you enter the room, Sanji is bustling about in the kitchen, and Nami, Zoro, and Luffy are sitting around the table, waiting for food.
“Morning, Sanji” you call. The cook immediately turns around at the sound of your voice. “Think you can add an extra portion?”
“Of course, Pumpkin! Please take a seat,” he calls back, and you follow his instructions, taking the empty seat next to Zoro.
“Morning Pumpkin”, greet Nami and Zoro as Luffy greets you with your real name instead of the nickname. You cheerfully bid them a good morning and shuffle your chair closer to Zoro’s, who doesn't seem to notice until your knees touch under the table and he looks at you. You know you have feelings for him, but you're still thrown off by the way simply making contact with him causes you to feel butterflies. Sanji brings out the food, grinning at the instant praise he gets. He then retreats to the kitchen, knowing the rest of the crew will be awake soon.
“Food looks good,” you say to Zoro before shovelling it into your mouth. By the time you’ve finished only one bite, Luffy has cleared his whole plate and is whining at Sanji for another portion. “I can never understand how he puts away food like that.”
“It's pretty easy; I can’t do it as fast as he can, but I'm still pretty good at eating”, he says, noting his ability to demolish a plate of food in seconds.
“You can do a lot with your mouth”, you respond as his cheeks flush red and he freezes. You had initially meant his third sword, and it hadn’t crossed your mind that your response could be flirting. You fear you’ve made him uncomfortable as he’s never responded like this to flirtation before, and you quickly start to reassure him of what you actually meant.
“I didn’t mean it inappropriately; I just meant about your sword skills. Y’know, like your third sword thing. I wasn't talking about anything sex-related. I'm also not saying you’d be bad at it, and I'm sure you're great at oral-” You stop yourself before your rambling gets you in even more trouble. You and Zoro stare at each other for a second before silently turning back to your plates and continuing to eat your breakfast. You know Nami heard your entire conversation, even over Luffy's yelling, but she doesn't say anything to you for the rest of the day, which you’re grateful for. You spend most of your day talking to your crewmates on the ship. You accidentally fluster Zoro multiple times throughout the day. Not even attempts at flirting are causing his reactions, it's other interactions that could have way more suggestive meanings. He knows you don't mean them inappropriately; however, with the way your relationship has been changing lately, Zoro can't help but interpret them differently. At first, when he’s arguing with Sanji over their appearances, you compliment his physique, and he seems to shut down at your words completely. The second and final chance you get is when Chopper accidentally calls Zoro dad, and the whole team bursts out laughing, swordsman included. Through his tears, Usopp asks who the mum is, and without hesitation, Sanji and Nami both point at you. Everyone except you and Zoro laughs even harder. Poor Chopper is extremely embarrassed but only further proves everyone's point by crying about it to you.
“Y/N!. Everyone’s laughing at me. They're all so mean.” he cries, hugging at your legs. You lean down to his height and wipe some of his tears. You love Chopper, but you can't help teasing him a little.
“Oh Chopper, it's ok. Why don't you go and ask Daddy if he'll beat them up for you?” Chopper huffs and storms over to Zoro. Zoro barely responds to the reindeer, too focused on the fact that you'd just called him daddy. He breaks eye contact with you to pat the reindeer on the shoulder and threaten the rest of the crew into quieting their laughter. It only half works as multiple crewmates are still snickering under their breaths. Satisfied with the results of Zoro’s threat, Chopper sits next to Zoro. You think that all three of your unsuccessful attempts at flirting - even if they were unintentional - made him uncomfortable and decide that you'll apologise to him later when he's not surrounded by people. You excuse yourself to your room, saying that you'll start getting ready early. It's a perfect way to avoid Zoro without people getting suspicious.
You're in the middle of getting ready when the other girls enter the room. Nami and Robin both start comparing their wardrobe to the dress you have lying on the bed. When they decide on the dresses they want to wear, you get ready with casual chatter. Neither of them mention your green-haired problem. You try not to show your dejected mood.
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Zoro isn't as lucky as you. You're all the other men want to talk about as they get ready.
“I can't believe Pumpkin has been flirting with you all day. What do you have that I don't?” growls Sanji. Zoro would usually start listing off a bunch of traits, but his response this time baffles Sanji.
“She's been flirting with me?” he says. Sanji almost falls to his knees in pure annoyance.
“You're usually pretty observant, especially with her. Have you really not noticed?” asks Usopp. It finally all clicks in Zoro’s head, and he suddenly feels like he's going to throw up. You actually might reciprocate his feelings.
“I just thought she was teasing me”, Zoro says. You're no stranger to winding him up. His temper makes him an easy target for jokes.
“She called you my dad and then acted like my mum. She already thinks you're together,” says Chopper, heart secretly pounding at the thought of the two of you actually getting together.
“and I don't think she was just playing along with the joke”, adds Jinbe. “she looked very sincere.”
Zoro listens in silence, not having the energy to argue with six men as they recount your behaviour. Sanji points out how you had interrupted their fight to compliment Zoro specifically, and Luffy recalls your comment to him at the breakfast table, which makes everyone who wasn't there gasp. You've always been a jokester, but never have you gone out of your way to fluster someone like this.
“You need to tell her how you feel, " says Franky, the only one Zoro is even thinking of listening to on romance, considering he pulled Robin of all people. “Women like vulnerability and manly emotions. You've just got to be upfront and tell her you like her. Pumpkin is special; don't lose her,” he says, offering Zoro a thumbs up. Zoro just sighs and leaves the room.
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You finish getting ready and turn around to show off to Nami and Robin, who are more than happy to hype you up. Getting ready and chatting with your best friends always makes you feel better. They look equally hot, which you're not shy about telling them. When the three of you finally head out to the deck, all the guys are already there. You hear a few wolf whistles, Jinbe politely compliments, and Sanji stares at the three of you with tears in his eyes. Zoro, however, avoids looking at you until you're directly in front of him. His eyes flicker down your body, and you instinctively follow suit, checking for imperfections in your outfit.
“You look nice,” He says; it sounds like he's forcing out the words, but you thank him for the compliment regardless. The tension is thick, and you don't think you'll even make it through dinner without talking it through first. Once everyone is ready to go, you say something before it's too late.
“Can we talk first? I just want to sort this out,” you say, and he nods despite looking puzzled. “You guys go on! Zoro and I need to talk,” you call as everyone starts to leave the ship. They all immediately agree and walk away with smug, knowing smiles.
Now that it's just you and Zoro, you're still trying to figure out what to say. You look down at your hands, desperate to avoid eye contact, and search your mind for how to begin your apology speech.
“So, Y/n, what did you want to talk about?” he asks, prompting you to start. Zorosing your real name instead of your crew-appointed nickname startles you, and you finally look up at him. Zoro’s always been a scary figure to the public, but this is the first time you're feeling shaken by his presence.
“I just want to apologise for making you uncomfortable.” you stutter your way through your first sentence, and even more confusion washes over Zoro’s face. “It was completely unintentional, but I still accidentally flirted with you. I really like you, and sometimes, I say mildly inappropriate things on instinct. And I'm sorry if anything I did today made you feel bad. I'm also sorry for admitting I like you when you definitely don't like me back. Why would a man like you want me? Anyway, that's beside the point. I just wanted to say sorry so that we don't have to sit through dinner with this awkward tension I've created.” you say, taking a deep breath as you prepare yourself for his response. He takes a minute to take in everything you said to him, and you hope you didn't make it worse.
“Okay, first question. What made you think I was uncomfortable? I froze up because you flustered me, which you wouldn't have been able to do if I didn't like you." Your mind doesn't even register the initial question; you can only focus on the last half of his sentence. You don't know how to respond, being completely shocked. He continues, unbothered. “Second question, who says I don't like back? Why wouldn't I like you?”
“That's two questions.”
“don't deflect, baby” He takes another step towards you, hesitantly resting his hands on your hips. “look, I hate sugarcoating shit. I like you. The rest of this insane crew has been bugging me for days about coming clean. I like everything about you. How could you think a woman like you isn't enough for a demon?” You both probably look like idiots, holding each other with bright smiles. He's in your arms, and he does like you back. “Now, do you wanna go to dinner and pretend we didn't confess our love for each other or do you wanna kiss me?”
You don't even verbally respond to his question and lean up to pull him into a deep kiss. He kisses you back with a passion and strength that could only belong to Zoro. He's so sure in his feelings for you that it makes you weak in the knees. His tongue pushes its way into your mouth as his hands move over your body. Big palms smooth and squeeze every part of you they can reach, and you groan against his mouth as he grabs your ass.
“my bed”, you pant as he pulls away from the kiss. “If the others come back, then the girls are way less likely to barge in”, you explain, grabbing his hand and pulling him to your room.
As soon as you walk through the door you turn around to face him and pull him right back down to your mouth. It's easy to get lost in his kisses; they're reassuring you that he likes you and only you. His kisses are intense, and they make you dizzy. Your nails dig into his biceps as he moves his kisses across your jaw and down your neck. You let out a moan that makes him groan against your skin.
“Been waiting for this for so long, baby.” his voice has you in a chokehold. You couldn't focus on anything else if you tried.
“me too,” you whimper, moving your hand to his hair and keeping him in place.
“Can I mark you? let everyone see you're mine?” You frantically nod, and Zoro nips at your neck to let you know your response isn't enough. You don't need to be told. You know Zoro well enough to guess he'd want you to be vocal.
“yes, please.”
With your confirmation, he attaches his mouth back to your neck as he slowly backs you up towards your bed. His teeth anchor him as he sucks on the skin, marking it so everyone knows you’re taken. When he's finished, he trails his mouth back up to your lips and presses a soft kiss to your lips. He pulls back to take another look at you, and he feels whatever coils control his emotions tighten. You look beyond fucked out, and he's barely even touched you. You're staring up at him in awe and desperation, and he can't believe what he's seeing. He thanks every deity he doesn't even believe in that you're in front of him, looking the way you do. The way your eyes shine with love and respect makes him feel funny inside, and he needs to voice it so he doesn't explode.
“You're so beautiful”, he whispers, kissing you again. “You're too good for me” He adds. You protest but are once again cut off by his lips. His fingers find the bottom of your dress, and he looks you over again. “You look so good in this. Do a twirl for me?” when you oblige and give him a full three-sixty view of the dress, he whistles lowly. He gives you one last request to take the dress off for him while he sits down on your bed.
“Can you start me off? I can't reach my zipper,” You ask, turning around. Without a word, Zoro tugs the zip down your back, and you hear him hiss slightly at the sight of your bare skin. You face him again and slowly push your dress down your body, trying to be as seductive as possible. The satisfied smile on Zoro's face tells you you're doing a good job. You unclip your bra, and his eyes greedily take in the newly exposed skin. He's practically salivating in anticipation but remains in his seat and lets you finish. He audibly moans as you turn around and bend over, slowly pulling your underwear down your legs. You kick off your shoes and approach Zoro as he takes off his shirt so you don't have to be alone in your nakedness.
He lies back against your mattress, beckoning you to join him. You climb on top of him, pressing a kiss to his lips before trailing your lips across his chest and down his abs, stopping at his waistband. Your hands are shaky and desperate in their attempt to unbutton his trousers, but you do and follow it by yanking them down and exposing his cock.
He's big. That much was evident to anyone who looked at him, but you never expected it to be as big as it is. It clearly shows on your face as Zoro runs his hand through your hair.
“Don't take more than you can” he says as you swirl your tongue around the tip of his cock. As soon as you wrap your lips around him, he feels like he's about to burst, and he immediately uses his grip on your hair to stop you. “on second thought, if you suck me off right now, I won't last very long. C'mere,” he says, pulling you up his body. “Let me get you ready for me. Sit on my face, pretty girl,” he says, trying to help you get situated above his face.
“Are you sure?” You ask, hesitant to lower yourself at all. Insecurity creeps in on you as you think about the possibility that he might not like the way you taste or you might crush him. He growls at the question, almost considering it an insult, before he realises that you need reassurance.
“Do I sound unsure to you? You better sit that pretty fucking pussy on my face right now,” he says, pulling you down flush against his mouth. His nose nudges at your clit as his tongue explores your dripping hole. You're so disgustingly wet, and Zoro loves it. He's messy with his eating, making obscene noises, so you know just how much he likes your taste. The vulgar slurping of his tongue as he all but makes out with your pussy makes you slightly embarrassed, but it's so sexy how much he enjoys pleasing you. You lose focus quickly, unable to pay attention to anything that isn't your man's glorious tongue. His enthusiasm would've had you toppling over if it wasn't for the grip he has on your thighs. “Grind on my face”, he instructs, with a slap to your ass, and this time you don't waste any time before doing as he says. You're fast approaching your orgasm as you rock against his face, and all you can do is moan his name and reach down to grip his hair. When your first orgasm washes over you, Zoro’s grip on you holds you in place as he licks you through your orgasm. You haven’t had someone else make you cum in so long, and having Zoro there makes you feel more satisfied than you have in a long time. When your hips stop moving and your breath slows down, Zoro slowly moves you off his face and helps you lay against the pillows.
“You feeling ok?” he asks, although the giddy smile on your face and the dazed look in your eyes answer his question before you even open your mouth. The Zoro from a few years ago would’ve laughed at Zoro now, A man with the monicker king of hell giving his entire heart and soul to someone else. You nod at him, giggling as he rolls on top of you. He uses his arms on either side of your face to hold himself up. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down to kiss you again. You never want to stop kissing him, and he realises this when you don’t let him pull away to speak. The way you cling to him fuels his pride. He gives up on trying to talk and kisses you back. One of his hands squeezes your boob before trailing down the rest of your body and cupping your pussy. He plays with your clit as you make out, working your up again. You try to adjust your hips so that he can slip his fingers inside you, but when he doesn't do that, you groan in frustration. “If you want something, you gotta tell me,” he says, voice dark with lust.
“Stop teasing me and fuck me”, you whine, reaching between your bodies to grasp at his cock. He lets you guide him to your entrance before swatting your hand away. He slides his cock between your folds, gathering your wetness and gives his cock a few pumps to coat it in your juices.
“Are you sure you can take it?” he asks, unable to resist teasing you for a little longer. You let out a bratty whine and writhe beneath him.
“Of course, I can take it” " you insist, despite your worries that you can’t. You’ve never slept with anyone as big as him.
“Atta girl”, he mumbles against your lips before pushing his cock into your hole. “Relax for me, baby”
You try to focus on his lips, kissing and sucking wherever he can reach and relax your body so he can bottom out inside you. He gets three-quarters of the way in before he starts to get impatient. He takes a few shallow thrusts to ease himself the rest of the way in, and the feeling of your cunt wrapped around him tears a feral growl from deep in his chest. You are equally affected, head thrown against the pillows as you moan his name. He rubs at your hips, attempting to soothe you so he can start moving. When you give him the go-ahead, he pulls out most of the way and thrusts back in, slowly picking up the pace as you claw at his back, looking for something to hold onto.
“That's it, hold on tight, baby,” he says, encouraging you to scratch up his skin. You're the perfect fit for him; Your pussy grips him so good that you almost have him believing in fate for a second. He can smell your sweat in the air, and though it should be gross, he buries his face in your neck to inhale your scent even closer. Neither of you speak from this point, and you don’t need to. You’ve both already said you wanted, and now all that's left is the sound of your moans and the way your bodies intertwine. When you pull him against you, tilting his head so that you can attach your lips to his neck and replicate the pretty marks he left on your skin, he almost cums on the spot. He belongs to you as much as you do him. Your legs shake around his waist, and your moans devolve into high-pitched whimpering, signalling your impending orgasm. He's not far behind, so he reaches a hand between you to rub your clit, and you're instantly sent over the edge. Your orgasm crashes down on you as you arch into Zoro's chest as much as you can. Your legs lock around his waist, giving him nowhere to go but over the edge with you. You gush around him with a cry of his name as he groans expletives in your ear. He fills you up with his cum, cock twitching inside you. He doesn’t pull out when he's finished, choosing instead to get comfy on your chest until you calm down. His hands tenderly rub at your tired limbs. When your breathing evens out, he gently pulls his cock out of you, hissing at the loss of warmth. He leans down to press an appreciative kiss to your tummy.
“You’re all mine, yeah?” he asks, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek.
“Always”, you respond, pulling him in to kiss your lips. His hands merely brush against your chest, and he feels himself getting hard again.
“What do you say we go for a round two in the shower?” he asks, playfully nipping at your lower lip.
“I’d like that”, you hum as he scoops you up and heads off towards the bathroom
✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
The other nine strawhats sit around the table at their booth, eating their meals, when Luffy realises the two of you are still not there.
“Y/N and Zoro aren't back yet”
“If they're not back yet that probably means they're banging” says nami, through a mouthful of food.
“Don't even speak about Pumpkin with that idiot” grumbles Sanji, stabbing at his plate.
“Stop complaining Sanji, it was always gonna be them” says Franky.
“Well, guess we better wait a bit before heading back to the ship” says Luffy, still stuffing his face.
Everyone's been rooting for you two from the beginning.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
thank you for reading! hope you enjoyed :)
comments and reblogs are appreciated ♡
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
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hxzbinwrites · 3 months
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So excited for the new blog! Can you please do some headcanons of Vox and imp! Partner in a cute soulmates AU?? Out of all places for Vox to meet his soulmate at last, it’d be in hell of all places! And his imp partner is super adorable and sweet and kinda polar opposite from him. At first he’s in denial but over time he starts falling in love anyway <<333
Vox x Imp! Soulmate! Gn! Reader | Savior |
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(I didn’t know what gender you wanted (Y/n) to be, so I just went ahead and put gn! I hope that’s okay!)
Warnings ⚠️: Cussing, Violence, Classism, Imp racism
Vox sat down at his “desk” of sorts. Glancing at his various monitors over the lip of his coffee mug. His bored expression evident on his face. Voxtech was doing great, a little too great. Nothing needed fixed, reprogrammed, or anything. Not even that little radio demon was active in his business today. Just plain nothing.
Val was busy doing whatever freakish things he does and Velette was prepping for her next fashion show next week, so there’s nothing he can do with them. He’s burnt practically every bridge with all of the other Overlords, so it’s not like he can go prancing up to them asking for a play date, all he can do is just sit here, in boredom, and watch screens flicker by. Watching all of these other sinners revel in his technology, unknowingly being watch by a extremely bored Vox.
He sighed, setting down his coffee mug as he stood up to stretch, placing a hand on his lower back before someone, or something, jerked his hand in another direction.
His screen glitched in aggravation, who the hell dare tug him. He isn’t a rag doll, he’s an Overlord. He’s THE VEE, He’s VOX.
With his electronic brows furrowed, he whips his head around to see no one in sight, before looking down at a bright red string coiled around his wrist, tugging him towards his elevator.
His eyes widen in shock, a soulmate string?? He didn’t have a soulmate. Not when he was alive, not when he fell into Hell, not…until now apparently.
‘I have nothing better to do I suppose’ He thought, walking towards his elevator.
————
Wondering around the Pride Ring was something most Imps didn’t do. The Pride Ring was for sinners, not for Imps. Well, (Y/n) certainly didn’t care. They walked about, with their head high and their tail swishing behind them. Well, until they got jerked in the other direction.
“The hell?” They muttered, looking at the string coiled around their wrist. This can’t be, (Y/n) didn’t have a soulmate. Haven’t had one ever, and probably wasn’t supposed to. Chalked it up to bad luck.
‘Good thing I listened to my gut to come to the Pride Ring. Alright soulmate, I hope you’re worth the trouble….and a piece of eye candy.’
They marched ahead, ignoring glances from sinners as they walked towards some of the more taller buildings.
Looking up, they saw in the far distance a huge tower, adorned with three V’s, all with their respective colors. Their heart fluttered, indicating that was where their soulmate resided. The string pulled once more in that direction before (Y/n) began to walk once more, following it.
They walked what seemed like forever, about halfway from the point they saw the tower to the tower, before something pulled on the opposite wrist.
“You little Imp.” A man said,”What do you think you’re doing up here? You don’t belong with sinner-kind, go back down there to the Wrath Ring where you belong, rodent.”
(Y/n) was shoved against the wall, face pressed against the cold brick of an alleyway. Their heart was racing, what if they died before they could ever meet their soulmate?!
They looked down, seeing their string begin to flash between red and white, alerting their soulmate that (Y/n) was in danger.
‘Please’ They thought,’Please help me my soulmate.’
————
Vox was strolling along the streets of Hell, briskly walking towards whenever the string may take him. People fled the scene from where he walked, too scared to come face to face with an Overlord.
Still, no sign of his soulmate. Irritated that they weren’t close, he sighed, rolling his eyes before he felt a pull, not a tug. He almost fell to the ground, stumbling before regaining his balance. Glitching in annoyance, he looked at his string, flashing in colors. Signaling something.
He had a gut feeling, something in his very core alerting him as well as the string. Wrong. Something is terribly, awfully wrong.
He broke out into a full sprint, shoving anyone out of the way who didn’t move fast enough for his urgent pace. He stopped near an alleyway, seeing a sinner press a poor imp against the wall. The imp was quivering in fear, until they locked eyes with Vox. The string disappeared, and he felt…whole. Completed. He didn’t even realize he was missing a piece of himself until he found it. But an…imp? He’s with an imp. Him, and overlord, with a hellspawn? It can’t be possible. It shouldn’t be possible.
While internally he was having these thoughts, he acted on pure instinct and without even thinking he took the sinner’s head and smashed it into the brick wall, with a force so hard he created an indent in the brick itself and the sinner’s body fell to the ground.
Without exchanging a word, he lifted the smaller Imp into his arms, found the nearest Voxtech device and teleported through it, bringing him and his newfound soulmate back to his office.
“Who are you? Are you supposed to be my soulmate?��� He sneered in disbelief, but stopped speaking whenever the Imp dove in to hug him. His heart rate sped up and his screen started glitching.
“Yeah…” They said,”thank you for saving me. I…I didn’t think I had a soulmate. What’s your name, sir?”
“Vox” He replied,” and yours?”
“(Y/n). I don’t know how you sinners live up here in the Pride Ring, it’s very scary.” They nervously chuckled,”I guess the soulmate string can’t find the other if you’re stuck in different rings.”
“Yeah” He said,”that makes a lot of sense. I want to ask you something, (Y/n). Why did that sinner attack you?”
“Ah, well he said it was because I’m an imp and that I need to return back to the Wrath Ring where I belong….” They said, looking at the floor.
Vox’s clawed fingers gently lifted their chin, locking eyes with the imp. His face seething with anger. His screen was glitching. Looking at his poor soulmate, with tears glistening in their eyes. Oh, these sinner’s who think like that are gonna PAY. He thought back on his earlier thoughts a few moments ago. Who really cares if they’re an imp. This imp is as sweet as can be, perfection incarnate if you will. But this…shoving them into the wall purely based on the fact that they’re an imp. This has to stop. He’s seen the light, his other half. He knows what must be home. His face starts glitching in anger, seething in the rage that someone hurt his precious love.
“If you’ll excuse me, my love, I n-n-need to make a f-few broadcastsss.” Vox said, his glitching making his voice stutter.
He snapped his fingers, making one of his various workers bring a comfy chair over for (Y/n) while he went to go sit at his desk.
He was no longer bored today, no, he had a mission. A mission to protect his precious soulmate at all costs.
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Word Count: 1159
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Text
Fentons and the joker
So the fentons are in gothem for whatever reason, yada yada yada...BUT rather than danny its JACK that went phyco on the joker???:)
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Its just after danny revealed himself as phantom, it took some time to cope with it but the fenton parents support danny (as long as hes relatively safe) being phantom, in amity.
But right now Their in gothem, and jack and maddie are in protective mode, jazz and danny and a little annoyed since after danny revealed himself as phantom their protectiveness trippeled, usualy that wasent a problem, amity was their home, none of the ghosts really wanted to hurt danny, and they have access to resources and support when needed
But their not in amity, so if they get hurt they have limited options, and apparently jack and maddie take thay as :their children could be in danger, stay aware
Danny actually dosent mind it, he's outside of his haunt but he still feels as safe as can be
Jazz is trying to lecture them on the unhealthy coping mechanisms they've developed but that aside she dosent really mind
That was until they got a news report that their was a prison breakout
Danny and jazz are trying to keep their parents from pulling out the fenton bazookas
And jack and maddie are making sure the trackers on their children are working
Well suddenly the street is filled with smoke, there was screaming, laughing and the sounds of people getting knocked over
When the smoke clears danny and jazz are gone...
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Danny amd jazz were being held hostage by some loon called the joker
Now its bad because jazz needs to focus all her attention on keeping danny calm, he's outside in haunt without any protection, his parents are gone, he cant use his powers without outing himself again and theres a FUCKING CLOWN 3 FEET FROM HIM MONOLOGING TO A FURRIE
He's this close to loosing it and (probably) turning this clown into sidewalk chalk
The clown kept talking to the furrie but they weren't paying attention, after a certain point the clown aimed his gun at danny head...
And thats when the fenton-family-car ran through the wall, maddie took one look at the situation and started beating the everliving shit out of anyone who got in the way of her and her babys... after 5 minues all the goons were making a path for her and the other hostages are scared of this woman
Jack on the other hand saw the position danny was in, had flashbacks to danny amd freakshow, and promptly went insane
He shoved batman, tackeled the joker, breaking the arm holding the gun in the processes, and proceded to(with his bare hands) remove all of the jokers teeth, he them puller out a fenton-net, strung him up like a fish and handed the netted-joker to batman with the instruction "watch him"
Half an hour later nightwing and batman are talking to the fentons, jack and maddie each cheaking for injuries on jazz and danny
Nightwing is the one to ask
:why did you do so much to the joker? Why didnt you just disarm him?
:huh, OH, y'see my youngest danny-O over there, had some...bad experiences with clowns that left some lasting trauma...and well, no one scares my children
Nightwing gave a pointed look at batman, and prepared to show the recordings to jason
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seventhcallisto · 6 months
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PROLOGUE
—Deep Down.
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Toc/cw; scenting. omega in heat. talk of s3x. featuring alpha g-idle. Language. Mature Content! Talk of gender, sex, and the weird system that a/b/o roles have, including the terrible hierarchy system. It's my series so I make my own rules, period!
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Never, absolutely never, does a person get their second sex when they're born. It's no surprise they get it towards puberty, yet the majority of times, heats or ruts do not start happening until they're in their late teens- early twenties. Betas never went through that issue. They hardly ever were considered more than peace makers. For a while, they were the least chosen. While not as valuable as an alpha or as wonderful at comforting like an omega. There was still some dull middle ground. They weren't that special.
That was only for a bit, anyway. Eventually, omegas took that spot, lower on the hierarchy, whilst betas gained the middle place. You didn't agree with the system, though. It doesn't matter your second sex. It matters how you hold yourself, how you go about through life with a second sex.
And you stood by that for decades.
You took hold of a company and shaped yourself to fit their mold. Although a foreigner in this strange city, following a dream you didn't know you could grasp, you still went for it. You molded yourself to fit whatever they wanted. A calm, level-headed, peace-maker, beta. With a heart of fire and determination that'll set a field ablaze. You worked your ass off. Getting up as early as possible. Practicing. Making something of yourself. Training yourself. Learning the language.
Someone who could make even the quietest of omegas open up, and the loudest of alphas silent. You were a patient and composed person.
And when you came out on top, the very top, unreachable and untouchable, you knew you maxed out your potential. It was only then that you let it slip from your hands and into the grasp of another. You let them see what you could do, and now it was their turn.
They took it with stride. Quickly, you found yourself linked to a group you'd be a part of for life. You were surprised, to say the least.
"It smells like testosterone in here," you grimaced.
Eventually, you did get used to the stench of 8 alphas. Soon enough, you could actually smell their undertones. A mix of everything drowns every corner of the apartment you live in with them.
You were fairly the least popular in the group by a good amount. Sometimes, you chalked it up to people being oblivious. It never hurt you, why would it? You're a rare gem. Sometimes, it needs a light shined on it to really sparkle.
It's years later of cleaning up after messy alphas and teaching yourself tricks to get used to their behaviors, that you suddenly notice a difference in yourself.
"Hey, you smell different," seonghwa scruches his nose, a pleasantly surprised look on his face. You slip your shoes off in the doorway, closing it behind you. "New perfume," you reply, half hazerdly, sliding your keys into the key bowl. "I thought you liked your own scent?" He comes over and helps you with the handbag in your arm.
You hand it over to the taller guy, slipping your mask down your face. "I'm starting to stink, so i changed my perfume scent. Maybe your guys' stench is making me allergic, or I'm getting sick." You sigh tiredly when he hangs your jacket up in the closet. "No, not sick. I know what you smell like when you're sick," seonghwas eyebrows scrunch.
"You smell.. sweeter.. have you been hanging out with any omegas lately?" He questions, folding his arms over his chest. His white sweater is rolled up his arms, and his black pants hang loosely. Surely, if seonghwa is to lounge around, he's gonna do it with style. You laugh, avoiding his eyes when he catches you looking him up and down. "Ha, yeah, actually. I'm helping Kimmie prep for her heat. She plans to have a couple of mini devils running around this summer. Can you believe it?" You scoff, mentioning your long time once-trainee close friend who you grew attached too.
"Kimmie with kids, I would have never thought," you mumble under your breath, years ago you would of scoffed at the idea of young- impressionable kimmie, mature enough to consider having kids with her beta husband whom you also knew to be a trainee from before. Are you really getting that old? Seonghwa stares for a couple of seconds. His piercing eyes guide you up and down. You're staring back now. Seonghwa doesn't flinch. "Right, let's hope kim is ready for that," he laughs, and just like that, the tension breaks.
You both shuffle into the living room. Calling it a night.
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Not even two days later, you're on the couch scrolling mindlessly on your phone whilst you wait for the guys to get dressed. The practice video for one of your group songs is soon. You've only been able to practice by yourself up until that point.
Yeosang takes a seat next to you, pushing you into his side. The alpha gently taps your leg to gain your attention. "What's up?" You put your phone down, giving him your full attention. "My scent is wearing off on you," he almost pouts. You smile, turning towards him and opening your arms. "Okay, c'mere." You beckon his face into your neck. Afterward, you let him take the lead.
It takes two seconds for you to realize he's not scenting you anymore. He didn't even start. "Yeosang?" You call out, threading your fingers on the back of his neck hairs. He hums, and it sounds so far away. His scent grows heavier. "You okay?" You attempt to pull back. he chases your neck. You can hear him breathing heavily, struggling to catch his breath after every strong inhale. His soft hand snakes around your neck, gently leaning your head the opposite way so he can get more room.
You follow, cause you trust your pack member. You can feel his mouth part, his lips drawing closer to your pulse. Your eyebrows furrowed. What are you doing? Obviously, something is up. You pull away from yeosangs grasp. Backing up just a bit. You put a hand to his chest to distance yourself. It's a few seconds before yeosang seems to come back, his foggy eyes focusing. "Sorry, I.. you smell really different lately," he admits, twisting his fingers in his lap.
"How so?" You question him. "Like.. sweeter. I can smell it linger, deep down under our scents I can smell.. an omega," he admits, his eyebrows twitch down. You haven't been to Kimmies house since seonghwa asked, yet you've completely washed and cleaned yourself of her scent entirely. You don't know what to say.
"Well," you fold your legs into your lap. "I think I might be coming down with something, I changed my perfume. It could be that, too?" You can't tell if you're reassuring yourself or yeosang. He hums. His eyes search your front, glancing up at you and then down to your neck where your scent glands are. "Could you wear one of my shirts for practice? I didn't get to properly scent you, and it'd make me feel better. " his tone is more of a demand yet hes still a little shy with it. Behind his eyes, you can see the strange look he casts aside.
You smile wearily. "Sure."
Yeosang had picked a black shirt he wore very often. It took him a hot minute, but by the time you watched him go through everything in his closet, the guys were done and slipping on their shoes. Once he was satisfied with his choice, he handed it to you. A shirt that would be tight fit for yeosang hanged off you. The deepest scents you can pick out are cocoa butter and honeyed citrus, like lemonade. There's the distant scent of strong tea. The cocoa butter blends well into his scent, perfectly layered. Perfectly yeosang.
You took a deep enhale, liking the freshness of his smell. Not noticing the satisfactory smile on yeosangs face, you slipped off into his bathroom and exchanged your shirt for his. Leaving yours behind. Once you came out, you were surprised to still see him there. His scent is everywhere in this room, heavier than normal.
His eyes look your form up and down. You give a tiny spin, smiling awkwardly. Finally, his eyes meet yours, clouded with an unknown emotion. It's a few seconds of silence. You never break off eye contact.
"We're gonna be late!" Hongjoong shouts out from the front door. His voice echoes in the hallway, leading to yeosangs' room. Yeosang smiles, looking away. He makes haste to the door and leaves you. You let the breath out you were holding. What was that?
Practice takes a hard minute to start, the coolness of the room makes it easier to warm up. You're not sweating when you begin repeating steps, adjusting what you deem unfinished or sloppy. Not long does the heat kick into the room. You find yourself removing your hoodie.
"Let's get started" the manager hits the button on the camera, beginning the recording. Your eyes follow your own movement. All of ateez has said you're the ace of the group, in everything you do it seems well-executed. You doubt that sometimes.
Every move and every breath is conditioned from years of practice everyday 'til you couldn't feel your legs. Sometimes you'd go as far as to even run, dance, and jump in terrible stilletos. Which worked out in the end since the majority of the time you'd have to wear heels or platforms to match the height of the guys during every event and performance.
Sweat pools on your collar, your neck, and your forehead as you work across the room. You can smell every one of the guys as they pass around you, a flurry of scents clog your senses. You try to focus on the choreography.
You tried until your shoulder slams into someone, throwing you off balance and onto the hard wood floor. Your elbow bounces off the wood. You slide to a stop quickly. "Fuck!" you curse at the sting in your leg, hip, and ankle. The room grows extremely quiet, the music stops as quickly. Mingi bends down to your level, shock still evident on his face. "Sorry! shit, my bad, are you okay?" He reaches for your head.
"Ow" you whine, like actually whine, instead of brushing it off like you normally would. Touching your elbow. You both simultaneously notice the blood dripping off your elbow. "Why aren't you watching where you're going!?" Yunho walks up to mingi. Mingi stands up from next to you. "I didn't do it on purpose!" Mingi defends, his jaw clenches. The two stare daggers, a tense standoff so sudden you don’t know truly if you falling is the cause of it or if something else is at play. Hongjoong steps forward to stop them. A heated discussion begins.
Wooyoung and San stand back, Jaws clenched, at any moment they look ready to pounce. Yeosang stands with Seonghwa and Jongho, who look just as concerned about the growing argument, yet their faces murge into something completely different at the smell in the air.
It's something no one can put their finger on.
Your ever growing weirdly sweet scent is surprising to even you, your gut twists in an unsettled way. You don't look at their faces, trying to understand the smell and your sudden shift. What the hell is going on with you?
"Boys, out in the hallway now, please" Jongsik. The manager you've had for years steps forward. As the oldest in the room take charge, the guys looked challenged. "What about her!?" Yunho shouts out, fustrated. In the distance another aurgument begins. Mingi squats back down to your level, gently pulling your attention back to him with his hands on either side of your face. "it's not that bad, yeah? It's alright?" He wants to reassure you. "Mingi" you practically whine, pulling at his wrist. The smell of harsh and swirling emotions makes your nose scrunch, it's intense and somewhat intoxicating.
You're dizzy.
Jongsik stands firm. "Out!" He repeats himself pointing to the practice room door. He reaches for mingi's shoulder. He who pushes the older man off, standing abruptly.
Hongjoong, the pack leader, is the one that rounds up the boys and pushes them out, even mingi. Before he shuts the door. He looks at you. He's so tempted to just run back in, coddle you and wrap your elbow in bandages. Yet he closes the door anyways.
There's no defiance or whining from you. because jongsik is a beta, and already mated. He's taken on a fatherly role to you when he pulls you to your feet. "I don't feel good.." You slur. Placing a hand on your head.
"Hey, it's gonna be alright. We're gonna get you to the hospital, alright?"
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You lay on an examination bed, squirming by yourself. Anxiously you wait twirling your hand around the bandage on your elbow.
"This is something we've never seen before." With your heightened hearing, you can feel they're talking about you.
"She showed signs of being a beta for years. How could something like this happen so suddenly? It's impossible." Whispers echo in your mind.
What the hell is going on?
"Hello," a doctor, also a lady, steps in. her face is covered with a mask. "I'm Dr Liana." You try to focus, but the ache in your stomach is distracting. "It seems to have been there for a while, most likely due to continuous, omega activities, from what my colleagues and I have assumed."
"Have you been noticing anything different from your usual routine?"
You recount what you can, anything you find weird yourself. And there's so many clues, like when you stole each hoodie and wore it from everyone for a week straight just because 'you wanted too'. Or how touchy you've been recently especially with hongjoong, your pack leader. The scent change, the continuous need to please your members and let them have their way lately.
How you, oh God, how you've started collecting everyone's clothing in your closet, you called it a clothing pile. It's a nest. You've been nesting.
You've been not so subtlety feeding this hunger within you.
Realization has dawned on you for the first time in a month. And after a few more tests, you've spent a total of two days in the hospital.
Once you're out, you're immediately escorted to a heat sanctuary. A common locked and secure place for omegas going into heat.
"What I'm hearing is you're about to go into heat. It'll be a difficult process for you considering you're a beta turned omega, and it's fairly late for you to be getting your first heat, but I'm sure there's plenty of options for you."
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There were plenty of other options, yet you opted for the least embarrassing and least dreadful one. It was too late to take heat suppressants. Now, you're stuck in a somewhat luxurious hotel room with glorified room service and plenty of meds to sedate you for a week or less. They're actually so you can't feel the actual pain that comes with a heat without having a knot to sedate the feeling. If you really hoped you could sleep it off, you'd be dead wrong.
The specific question of; "do you have anyone in mind that could take care of you during your heat?" Really lingered. You thought about it. Maybe more than once, but you turned it down. No way. Nooo wayyyy. You wouldn't dare go past the first pack of alphas your mind landed on. Wouldn't even touch that book or open it in your minds eye.
Everything is very sensitive for the first day. You sweat a ton. You feel like you've lost weight, although you eat when you're not... 'foggy'. You feel the sweat pool at every corner of your temporary bed.
Anything you can get your hands on you pull, hard, and rip and tear. A pile of blankets and pillows are strewn on the floor in one giant large pile. Every once in a while you'll come back to your senses and childishly get upset at what you're doing.
No you've got nothing against omegas. You just didn't ask to be one, so therefore you're mad about being one.
Once satisfied, you spraw out and get to working on yourself with whatever you can, clothes and all. Toys. Plugs. Lube. You would have never guessed you'd end up this way. You name it, and they have it. They say there's nothing more satisfying than a knot, yet you don't enjoy the idea of what comes after. Pups? Ew. Is there even anything to counteract that? How do people just sleep with a stranger during a heat and not feel scared about what will happen in the moment? There's nothing wrong with it. It's just not your particular cup of tea.
As a beta, or.. when you were one, it wasn't very hard to find someone to hook up with. Betas have the abilities to hook up with anyone, alphas, omegas, and other betas. Although pregnancies and knotting aren't as easy for betas(you're not a big fan of wrapping it) it'll work eventually if tried enough. There's this middle ground for betas who can have it all. Relationships get difficult when you aren't as drawn to each other as an alpha and omega are, but with patience, it'll work.
There's this gross scent lingering under your skin, you can still smell the scent of your old skin, the beta you once were is suddenly being washed away by a sweet, tropical smell, an omega in full bloom. It's your second day. Yet you couldn't get more miserable. Two or three more days of this? Seriously.
You've never been a girly girl, begging for your way or kissing up to get it. You were commonly told you were a tomboy growing up. Maybe that played its role on your first designated sex. Your company pushed that role, too. Tough girl act. Rapper, Dancer. Never the face of the group. But you weren't complaining. You were the top of top trainees. Nothing could beat you down.
Yet, dressing up in baggy clothes and never looking sexually appealing was your role in the group. Tomboy rapper. Compared to the beginning of fourth gen, you were considered a girl crush but nothing else. least lines, least screen time, least roles. I mean. You trained for this, right?
Now you're stuck with a new second gender you didn't ask for. Pushing you farther behind the scenes. Just your luck.
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As soon as your first heat ends. You realize you weren't as bad. Apparently, the first heat ever is the easiest. You're supposed to get worse. Seriously. Worse? God. You can't take this. You go to the only people you know won't make a big deal out of your new.. thing.
Soyeon places a hot cup of tea right in front of you. And you can smell the scent suppressant coming from the steam. "this is supposed to help?" You sniff at it warily, grimacing at the factory like smell.
"You came to us, at our dorm, smelling like the biggest ball of 'fuck me please', take it or leave it." She clicks her tongue at you, propped up on her bed. Minnie takes a seat opposite of you, as does shuhua. "You cant even smell me, you're on scent suppressants" you groan, swirling the tea. "How do yall cope." You sigh and chug the content of the large tea cup. Soyeon laughs, minnie grimaces, and despite having a shocked look, shuhua pumps her fist in encouragement.
You've come to the group of alpha women cause, well, they're your best friends. And they're the most encouraging about any and all supplements and suppressants. They've single handedly encouraged everyone you know to take suppressants. From the front door, you hear it open and close, stepping down the hallway comes yuqi and miyeon, who do a double take.
Yuqi takes a giant whiff, and her eyes bulge. "What happened to you!?" She coughs at the stench of omega. Something she doesn't find common in their room when you're around. Miyeon scoots to the side when Soojin pushes through with a cake of some sort and a tiny charcuterie board. She places it down in front of you. You can tell the alpha in her is desperately trying to please you.
"Somehow, our poor, once beta, girl friend has changed sex." Soyeon speaks through a bite of twizzlers. You don't comment at her choice of words. Yuqi and Miyeon scoot into the room, staring at their doting member.
"There you go." Soojin pats your head and takes a seat on the bean bag in front of you. "Thanks," you sigh, digging in. The cake, which soojin explains, is a long-lasting scent changer. Magic is baked into every bite.
As for the charcuterie board. It's just something to get you some protein with the lack of good supplements in your system. In her eyes, you've lost at least half of your body weight. You haven't. Yet she's still encouraging you to take care of yourself from such a rushed heat.
"Poor girl," miyeon sighs, "I've never heard of that happening to anyone before. How's that even possible?" She takes to removing her hoodie and placing it down properly. Yuqi shuffles off her bag. Plopping onto the bed next to you. "How'd the guys react?" She steals a piece of meat from your board.
"I haven't told them" you sigh, the room goes silent.
"That's fucked up" yuqi laughs. Miyeon slaps her ankle. "So we're the first to know?" Shuhua confirms, you nod. "Wow, I'm sure they'll be happy about that," soyeon laughs lightly. You tear your eyes off shuhua. "What do you mean by that?" You clearly speak, eyebrows pulled down. Minnie places a hand on your ankle to get your attention. "Well, we're your girl pack. We'll always be your girl pack." she looks nervous.
"But the last time I hung out with you, your boys stared at me like I was an intruder in their territory." she pats your ankle. Your eyebrows pull taunt. You want to defend them. "What? No way.." You truly think about it. "Whatever you say, your boys aren't as good as we are at keeping up with our contribution to not being alpha whores" soyeon sighs pushing to sit up. "Especially mingi, he's the whoriest of them all, he goes into rut every week it seems. He needs a heavy dose of rut suppressants." she takes another chunk off her twizzler.
"You shouldn't feel obligated to tell them first. Butt.. you shouldn't be surprised when they get upset about you telling us first." The girls all nod. You fall back onto soyeons pillows. A puff of sandal wood and cinnamon surrounds you. Slowly dying down as the tea takes its hold on your heightened senses. "Maybe I should have thought this through," you rub at your eyes.
"You're always welcomed here." soojin clears your mind, patting her hand against your hip in a friendly gesture. "This won't change anything. You're still my- our best friend," soojin speaks on behalf of the girls. Everyone hums to confirm.
"Thanks," you say genuinely. "It's a bit late for you to get a drive all the way home, What'd the company say to the guys?" Miyeon perks up from the edge of the bed. "Something about me needing medical evaluation. I'm pretty sure they think I'm still in the hospital." Yuqi scoots up next to you. "Did you check your phone?"
You didn't even think about it, pulling it from your pocket. You try to power it on. "No, everything was rushed. I didn't have a chance to check anything before I had to give it up so I wouldn't expose the place I was at." The screen doesn't light up. It's completely dead.
"It's dead," you pass it to soojin, who already had her hand out to take it. She plugs it into soyeons charger. "Well, I guess you're stuck here." Shuhua and yuqi topple on top of you, squishing you into the mattress.
"Sleepover!"
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The next morning, you wake up sore. Not because of anything the girls did but because of such a long trial of whatever you did to yourself in the haze of heat. You groan when you shift your hip, burying yourself closer to the center of the makeshift bed you made in the living room.
The night was full of movies and being doted on by every one of the girls. Things aren't supposed to change because of your new sex, and that's remained true. They just baby you a little bit more than usual. "Shuhua, 'mega! Come eat! Now!" Minnie yells from the kitchen. The nickname startles you, something you've never heard before is somewhat pleasent to your ears. There's stomping towards the living room. Your head slams back down onto the pillow, pretending to sleep.
"I know you're awake." yuqis smile can be heard through her words. You can't help the prying of your lip. "Nu-uh," you grin, eyes still closed. "Get up!" She jumps on you, pulling you into a suffocating hug that she wiggles around in. You laugh and pull her equally as close. After the struggle of a couple of seconds, your exhaustion returns. Your arms fall limply around her waist.
"You doing alright?" She asks, picking herself up and off of you so you can breathe. "Yeah, I just tired myself out this week." you laugh, embarrassed. "Don't worry," shuhua perks her head up from the couch next to you. "You should have heard when yuqi had her first rut," shuhua laughs menacingly, yuqi springs up. "Shut up!" She yells. "She wouldn't stop! All night and day! We had to quarantine the whole top floor!" Shuhuas words stop on occasion when yuqi is wrestling to cover her mouth. You laugh at them.
"Hey," soojin stands over, ignoring her members. "Hi," you smile back. "Hungry?" She lends you her hand, pulling you up off the floor. "Starved," you take it, embracing her rose filled scent.
A platter of delicious food is placed right in front of you. Breakfast in their apartment is somewhat new to you. You've never really been able to stay long when you visit. Maybe you're starting to realize the guys have a stronger hold on you than you thought. Speaking of the guys. As soon as you finish your plate, Soojin places your phone down in front of you. The screen is still black, signaling she hasn't turned it on.
"You're gonna want to answer your boy toys before they stalk you down themselves," soyeon gestures. She's not wrong.
You power your phone on and let it reboot for a second. Yuqi is still eating with shuhua, talking to miyeon and minnie about something you don't pay attention to. Your phone makes a continuous notification sound when all of your messages pop up.
104 missed messages. 32 missed calls.
You're in deep shit.
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Taglist: @0325tiny @bratty-tingz @lelaleleb
(Thank you for reading ♡)
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ceilidho · 9 months
Text
prompt: Soap being a funny, goofy flirt with his barista whenever he's on leave back home….super cocky and charming, then a couple months go by …. and he comes back sort of rougher around the edges after Las Almas. less trusting. a bit meaner when he talks to her….. [soap/reader] 2.5k; nsfw (on ao3)
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“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”
He’s back again. It’s not a usual occurrence, but when it happens your heart kicks into overdrive. He appears like clockwork every couple of months, and then back to back over a quick succession of days. Like he’s in town one week and then gone the next. 
You look up from where you’re organizing the muffins in the display case to find him grinning down at you from the other side. His hair is freshly shorn on both sides, the stripe of hair down the middle likely barely long enough for him to work his thick fingers through it. He’s got a cocksure grin spread across his lips. A fresh cut over his right eyebrow, a butterfly bandage over it. 
“Hi John,” you say. It’s almost a struggle to say the words. Your hands shake a bit where they’re extended out amongst the pastries, fingers pressing into a carrot muffin a bit too hard. It dents beneath your fingers. You pull them out, rest the tongs behind you on the countertop. 
“Hi kitty cat,” he purrs, folding his arms over the pastry case, leaning as close to you as he can. If it were anyone else, you might be tempted to scold them for smudging the glass. It’s you that’ll have to clean that up later. “Not Johnny anymore? Have I been gone for too long?”
Charm like butter spread thick over freshly toasted sourdough, already melting into the bread, dripping onto the plate between the pockets of air. You know he could ruin you if he wanted to, if you let him in. 
You know it won’t be long until you fold. He hasn’t been subtle about it. “Sorry, Johnny, we’re all out of scones.”
“Aw, that’s how you apologize for tossing up my morning?”
You twiddle your thumbs. “Sorry.”
“‘Have to do better than tha’, kitty cat,” Johnny says, lips drawn into a faux pout that has your heart skittering in your chest like it’s been let loose from the stables for once. “I was waiting for those scones for near a month."
“We have cream buns,” you offer. He snorts.
“Not in the mood for anything cream filled just yet.” 
There isn’t a shade of red deep enough to describe your face. “Pardon?”
“Ye fancy going for a bevvy tonight?” Johnny asks instead, evading the question.
You probably look as gobsmacked as you feel. It’s not like you haven’t been asked out on dates before, but Johnny is leagues away from any of the men you’ve dated. He’s cockier, back straight and chest out, flaunting the muscles strapped across his chest and arms. You think it’s reasonable that you’ve chalked his flirting up to habit, something he does with everyone; whatever distance you’ve put between yourself and your inevitable nervous breakdown has been built on assuring yourself that Johnny surely didn’t mean for you to take his flirting seriously.
Apparently, you were wrong. 
“You want to take me out?” you ask, sounding a bit dumb. 
“‘Course I do.” He cocks an eyebrow, leveling you with an obvious look. “Haven’t been shy about it; s’a bit tough when I’m all over the place these days, but I’m in town for the next two weeks, so we’ve got some time. When you getting off today, kitty cat?” 
Johnny leans farther over the countertop, towering over you now that you aren’t standing on the raised platform by the pastry case. Palms spread wide over the granite; when your eyes flit down, you can’t help the way they’re drawn to the dark, livid tattoos crawling up his forearms. Dark ink like they’re new trophies on his skin. 
His attention is always like the sun; your whole body burns under his gaze. There’s something about being stared at so intensely, blue eyes raking down the front of you, that makes you unsure. 
He buys a croissant instead, tenner pressed gently into the palm of your hand. You're tempted to deflect, tell him you aren't interested.
“Seven,” you whisper instead, hands shaking when you hand him his change. 
His hand closes around yours, callused fingers rough against your skin. “Got it. Pick you up seven sharp.”
When he leaves, you barely hear the jingle behind him, the blood pounding in your ears. You have a date. 
Your chest is tight for hours, thinking about your date later that evening. He picks you up after your shift, just as you’re locking up; you thought you’d have a couple minutes to head back to your apartment and freshen up, but you find him waiting outside the coffee shop for you, clad in a black hoodie and the same jeans as earlier. 
He’s as slick and gentlemanly as you might’ve anticipated, walking you to the pub with a hand nestled against your low back. You talk for what seems like hours tucked away in the corner. Johnny makes good conversation, but sometimes it feels a bit like an interrogation. He’s talkative, but there’s a faint edge underlying everything he does; he makes you wait for him at your table while he orders for the two of you at the bar, taking the seat facing you so you’re ensconced in his shadow, hidden from anyone else in the pub.
He insists on walking you back to your place, boots splattering through the puddles accumulating between the cobblestones. He makes sure you walk on the dry side. Every light you pass under sweeps across his face in a golden arc, illuminating the corner edge of his jawline, the plush spread of his lips, the furl of his ear like a nautilus shell. Brows that slope over deep set eyes. 
When he leaves you off at the door, Johnny’s hand curls in the hairs at the back of your neck and tugs you up for a kiss that goes scorching hot. Fingers tangled in your hair, other hand coming up to cup your cheek, holding you in place. You feel trapped, helpless against the onslaught of him; a hot tongue flicks into your mouth and he groans, making your head spin. You feel it resonate through you. 
“Johnny—” you mumble when he pulls away for a second, cut off when he leans back in to suckle at your bottom lip. His beard is bristly against the soft skin around your mouth. 
You feel him smirk against your lips. He nips at the lower one. “I’ll see ya tomorrow, a’right, kitty cat?”
Johnny only looks the slightest bit disheveled when he pulls away. A thumb traces your lower lip. He briefly looks regretful, like he wants to bend down again for another one—you feel the intention when he presses his thumb ever so slightly past your lips—but then he pulls back, walking backwards down the street away from you. A hand raised in goodbye.
Then the next day, he’s gone. Vanished into thin air. You glance up whenever the wind chimes over the door jingle, but it’s never him, always someone with a different hat, a different face. 
You thought he promised you two weeks this time. Your chest collapses when the door opens and someone else walks in. Apparently he spoke too soon. 
Two days go by; you’re fighting the desperation to know. It oddly never crosses your mind to think that he’s ghosting you. Maybe it should. You hardly know him outside of the brief interactions you have every other month when he’s back from wherever he works (and you know that it’s all top secret, hush hush, you’ve seen the military tattoos and kept your questions to yourself), but it doesn’t feel—and you think this with no small degree of irony—like something he’d do. 
On the walk home, you often catch yourself looking for the familiar shape of him. Wandering past the shops closing up for the night, people piling into the bars, raucous voices tumbling up into the smoky sky; you stand on your tiptoes on the other side of the street and peer in, looking for the broad shape of his back. 
You never spot him. There is a cold gap in your life that goes unfilled. It smarts at the root of you; you didn’t think you could miss Johnny. You thought you could feel a twinge of regret every now and then for not indulging his flirting a bit more, but you had honestly shelved him higher than you could reach in your desires. Until he took you out and listened to you ramble on, listened deeply with his attention rapt, his cheek pressed into his fist as he leaned against the table towards you. Until he whisked you safely back home and held you in place while he sipped kisses from your mouth until your lips were swollen. 
It’s months later when you hear it. 
“Hi kitty.”
Your blood goes hot at the sound of his voice. When you whip around, Johnny’s on the other side of the counter like he never left. Black shirt that clings to the curve of his biceps, old jeans with fades around the knees and thighs stretched around his thighs. 
When you meet his eyes, they seem charged, steadier than usual. Flat lips turned up just at the corner, one side only. Johnny’s not usually so still, so grounded on his feet; there’s usually a frenetic undercurrent to him, like catching a live wire. You don’t know what he’s like out in the real world, but in your world he looks like he paces and runs to work himself free of all the extra energy. Maybe other forms of cardio.
“Johnny, you’re—” You catch yourself before the words tumble out, before you make it known that you’ve been tossing and turning late at night wondering where he went. Blue eyes sparkle like they hear it anyway, the faint note of desperation seeping into your voice like a hoarseness. 
“Fancy going for a bevvy tonight?” he asks you again. Less of a question this time. 
You feel pulled to him on a string. He doesn’t leave you in peace this time. He waits you out, sits at a table in the coffee shop facing you. Customers you’ve known for years seem entranced by him, and how could they not? They don’t make them like him often—tall and blue eyed, roguish; ruggedly handsome when the mood strikes. Pretty boy until he turns the full weight of his stare on you and you’re forced to contend with the fact that he is, in fact, all man. 
Your amity turns to enmity when someone stares at him for too long. Placated only because Johnny never so much as turns their way. 
Dinner is a long, drawn out affair. His conversation is rougher than usual, punctuated by bouts of silence. His eyes are murky waters. Something’s changed, you think, salad speared on your fork, hovering just in front of your mouth, studying him. Something happened in the months that he was away. Whatever it was, it’s left Johnny a bit more calculating, less trusting. He sits facing the door this time, eyes flicking up whenever it opens on the other side of the restaurant. 
“Sorry, angel, don’t have it in me to be sweet and gentle anymore,” Johnny says when he walks you to your doorstep. “‘Fraid it’s gonna be rough for you from now on.” 
His words make you tremble. 
The kiss at your doorstep doesn’t end there this time. Maybe this is all an extension of that moment months ago, the natural endpoint. You were never going to end up anywhere else but flat on your back under him.
“Pure gaggin' fer it, aren’t ya, kitty?”
Johnny’s voice is rough, barely a rumble over the sound of your own keening. Your whole body slides up the bed every time he ruts into you, thick cock spearing you open. Your hands slip over his shoulders where a layer of sweat has built up; your bodies slide together like you’ve been at it for hours, rather than just the thirty minutes since Johnny bodied his way into your place and made you guide him to the bedroom, shucking his clothes the whole way there.
“No, I would’ve—” You gasp on a particularly rough thrust, teeth clenching together, “—I would’ve w-waited. Oh god, oh god.”
“Haud yer' wheesht, bonnie, quit whining,” he grunts. “Dinnae act like you weren’t asking for a big cock in this cunt. Could hear her purring behind the counter. Needed it for months, didn’t ya?”
You knew this was in him somehow, this penchant for dirty talk. He’s always moved like it was in him. You feel swept away by it, scorching under his hands and tongue and dick. Tightly wound. Only capable of holding on, one hand clenched now in the lowest part of his mohawk while he ducks his head to suck your nipple into his mouth. When he gives it a mean bite, you squirm and cry out.
“Never thought you were s-serious,” you admit, whimpering when he nips again at the tender spot there. 
Johnny draws back onto his haunches, still deep in you. There are scars across his chest that you didn’t notice before. New skin frosted over, deep gouges across his arms; what you think looks like a bullet wound. Your eyes go wide. It’s impossible to think what he must have been through.
He looms over you, hand coming up to curl delicately around your throat. Just enough to let you know that he’s there, that he’s got you right where he wants. Johnny smiles wide, wicked, white teeth stark in the darkness of your room. 
“Oh, I’m very serious, kitty,” he laughs, deep and throaty. He thrusts languidly into your heat now, drawing it out. 
He makes a show of it when he comes, fingers tightening around your neck. Your breath hitches in your throat. It strikes you in the moment that you let him in bare, trusted him despite months of absence and no real excuse for it. When he pulls out, you feel it leak from you. Frustration boils under your skin because you haven’t come yet; you feel almost betrayed, a whiplash reaction that has tears welling up in your ears. 
“Don’t worry,” Johnny coos at the sight of your pinched face, “you’ll get yours, bonnie. Gonna treat this kitty real nice.”
You struggle against his hold when he forces your legs wide and slots himself between them, making his way down the bed. He tongues deep into your cunt to lick his own spend out. Your thoughts dribble out of you, head empty; there’s nothing left in you except bone-deep exhaustion and the feel of his bearded cheeks scraping against your inner thighs. 
You flinch like you’ve been shocked when he sucks at your clit, hypersensitive. He laughs when you do, doubling his efforts. His hot mouth on the place where he still drips from you might make you lose it completely. The most wounded sound bubbles out of you. Your hand trembles in his hair, torn between pulling his mouth closer and pushing him away. 
He doesn’t relent until you’ve come twice, your face flush with blood. When his tongue flicks over your clit again, it’s for the pleasure of seeing your legs spasm. 
“Johnny, please—can’t anymore,” you beg, trying to press your foot against his shoulder to push him away. 
His chin glistens with your juices. When he runs his tongue across his bottom lip, plump and swollen, you drag in a harsh breath. Maybe you could go again.
“Kitty, I’ve had a rough couple weeks,” he says, voice light but for where it descends into a memory, deep and dark. “Just let me eat your cunt and we’ll talk about everything later, okay?”
Your fingers tingle like they’ve fallen asleep in his hair. When you give in, it feels inevitable.
934 notes · View notes
samdeancass · 11 months
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Angel Trap
Requested by Anonymous
Pairing: Sam Winchester x fem!angel!reader
Genre: Fluff
Characters: Sam, Y/N, Dean
Description: Sam and Y/N have been harboring feelings for each other for a long time. When the brothers make an angel trap, they accidentally trap Y/N inside. Dean begins to tease Sam about his feelings which is when everything starts to unravel.
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Being an angel was hard enough with the constant fighting between your siblings and waging wars with each other but, somehow, being friends with the Winchesters was harder. You and Cas were the only angels that were fully on their side which meant that you spent every moment at the bunker, helping them with whatever case they had next.
That was how your feelings for Sam had started and blossomed. Helping him in whatever way he needed, sometimes without him knowing. It had never occurred to you that an angel could fall for a human but it felt like that was what was happening. What you didn’t know, however, was that Sam felt the same way. The sly looks he gave, the slight brushes against your arm when you were standing together; you should have questioned his strange, new behaviour but you chalked it up to him being a typical human.
What you both didn’t know, however, was that these feelings would come to light sooner than you were expecting.
__________
Sam and Dean were on a case that required the help of a specific angel that they had encountered a few years ago. They were inside an abandoned building, completely engulfed in darkness and perfect for an angel summoning. Dean jumped up from drawing the last of the trap, rubbing his hands together to get rid of the chalk dust. “Alright, Sammy. Hit it.”
Sam looked down at the open page in the book, his finger moving along the page as he spoke the words of the enochian chant. A bright light engulfed the room along with a piercing noise that led to both of the brothers covering their ears and closing their eyes.
Once the light has dissipated, the brothers looked over to the trap and were completely confused with the sight before them. Instead of the angel that they wanted to summon in the trap, you stood in their place with your arms folded over your chest, shaking your head.
“What on earth are you two doing?” Sam scratched the back of his head nervously. “We weren’t meant to summon you.” You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, I guessed that, dumbass.” An idea sprung into Deans head and he gave Sam a look, one that Sam had come to despise. “No, don’t even think about it Dean.”
“There’s nothing you can do to stop me.” Dean walked up to the edge of the holy fire, a smug smirk on his face. “While we’ve got you here, Y/N, I wanted to ask you something.” You raised one eyebrow curiously. “Yeah? Shoot.” Dean opened his mouth but before he could speak, Sam dragged him back to were they were stood. “Dean, no.”
You threw your hands in the air in frustration. “Seriously, guys. What on earth is going on here?!” Dean shrugged Sam’s hand from his shoulder and gave a teasing look. “Little Sammy here is getting a little embarrassed.” “Dean, I’m warning you.” Sam was practically growling at this point which peaked your curiosity. “Why would Sam Winchester be embarrassed?” 
Dean chuckled, leaning against a wooden beam before flashing a smile. “Because he has feelings for you and he didn’t want you to find out, but he knew that I would tell you. Seriously Sammy, you should know by now not to tell me anything.” 
Sam was looking all around the room, trying to evade looking at you which is why he missed the blush creeping onto your cheeks. Dean, however, did not, His mouth hung open, the edges of his mouth turning upwards. “No frickin’ way! You like him to, don’t you?” 
Sam looked at you at this point, eyes wide at the slight possibility that you felt the same way. You nodded slightly, afraid to meet the Winchesters’ gaze. Sam grabbed some holy water, doused out the flames and connected his lips to yours in one of the most passionate kisses you had ever experienced.
All the pent up feelings from the past few years were finally able to release themselves as the kiss carried on, your arms wrapping around Sam’s neck as his hands found your waist and pulled you closer to him. Your hands found their way to his hair, your fingers threading through his long locks. 
He broke the kiss and stared down at you, nothing but love in his eyes. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” You giggled and leaned your forehead against his. “I think I do.” A clearing of a throat brought you back down to Earth as you both looked over at Dean who was trying his best not to be pleased that both his brother and best friend had finally confessed their feelings for each other.
“Now if you’ve both finished eating each others faces off, I think it’s time to get back to the case, don’t you?” Sam chuckled at his brothers annoyance before pressing a kiss to the side of your head and taking your hand in his. “Wanna help us out?”
You nodded, smiling up at Sam. “Of course, you boys would be lost without me.”
Supernatural Tags:
@akshi8278​ @bxoken-heartss​ @deascheck​ @desimarie12​
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kneelingshadowsalome · 9 months
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🤠 🫶 :
Oh my god….
And Kortac’s enemies don’t understand where The Terror™ went, what could possibly have taken down a monster like that…König’s been even more menacing and violent and awful for several months now, taking every mission possible like he’s determined to destroy and kill everything he can, and there’s rumors he’s started literally ripping his opponents in half on the battlefield, and now he’s just...gone? So oh god, is there something worse out there??? Who is this who got to THAT behemoth of all people?? The rumors! The suspense! The horror!
Quick camera pan to reader, just singing to herself as she bakes some goodies to take to the sweet giant Austrian soldier (lmao she’s too forgiving, maybe she chalked up the “cunt licking” incident to a fluke, she’ll just have to be even MORE careful about where she lets him touch, he seems to get too excited). She just wants to do something nice for him, the poor man has been holed up in his company’s sick bay with something (turns out having your brain, heart, and cock explode are not good for your health, but “Blue balled into oblivion” is not something you can actually get diagnosed with, so it’s like…blood pressure issues or something).
König really should be more mindful of his health, tsk tsk.  
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Oh god this just gets better and better, she's worse than all his enemies combined, and she's baking for our poor broken soldier?! This is too cute 😭💞 (oh and 'tease mother'?? I want this to be my new middle name lol!)
Sweet innocent reader also heard König got into a weightlifting accident. On top of all the exploded body parts, dude sprained his back really bad trying to do a deadlift PR with all the 55 lbs plates he could stack on the bar.
Unfortunately the metal gave up before König, it broke in half in the middle of his lift, and rumours say the whole stunt was actually a cry for help, a suicide attempt, even… But no one will ever know because this man is not what you could exactly call a genius 🫡 So maybe it truly was an accident?
And of course sweet reader bakes him some yummy delicacies to cheer him up!
But oh uh. König almost cowers in his bed when he sees her. He goes completely still as sweet reader approaches him in her cutest outfit ever, smiling like an angel and with a box full of muffins in her hands.
She floats next to his bed like the most innocent butterfly ever, opens the lid so that the cozy scent of baked goodies fills the entire room. Then she picks the biggest, most plump chocolate chip muffin from that box and folds his mask over his nose to give him a taste.
Her movements are those of a ballet dancer as she brings the glorious treat to his lips… but it's her breasts his gaze falls to as she leans forward and gives him an abundant view of the two globes of pure sin, pressed together under the neckline far too wide for her usual wear.
Does this woman even know what she is doing to him...?
Is she fucking deliberately teasing him?
His mouth opens just for the sake of that mouthwatering view, and she takes it as a cue of him wanting her to stuff his mouth full of muffin.
"There we go," she says approvingly as he takes a bite while staring at her breasts, hovering there not even an arms length away. "I made them extra sweet for you…"
The ample view of her soft tits right there in front of him while his mouth is full of melting chocolate is truly a new plane of hell. Were she to turn around to look, she would see the tallest, most vicious tent forming there beside her as his cock juts up under the sheet in all it's glory.
The muffin is still warm, and she licks the extra grease from her fingers when she's done feeding him. He imagines she's licking his cum off of those fingers instead, and almost groans from the dull pain the mere vision sends to his crotch.
"Don't worry. I know you'll be up in no time, King," she chimes and gives him an exceptionally flirty smile. Whatever new torture methods are being used on him now, he hopes to all the gods that the sweet girl won't look behind her. He will just be shamed and scolded for being hard again.
It's absurd and kind of sad how much he has changed since he met her... He feels equal to the mighty Prometheus, bound to an invisible rock and being tortured night after night after night. It almost brings tears to his eyes.
"Oh. My sweet hero… Are you in pain?" She caresses his face through the mask with genuine pity and worry. A teary hiccup is trying to push up his throat, but he forces it down.
Plump breasts and overly sweet muffins and an innocent woman calling him 'King' and 'hero'? Fussing about his health, thinking it's his back that's giving him pain… A tiny little tear almost, almost escapes the corner of his eye as he gives her a tiny, miserable nod.
"Poor thing. You know, I've been thinking…" she bites her lip, takes a deep breath too, sending those breasts swell inside her shirt and giving his cock another demanding pull.
"I really like you," she continues. "And I've finally decided. I want you to be my first."
Was zur Hölle…
His eyes go wide, but otherwise, he's still. The girl dares to give him a peaceful smile while his mind goes slowly blank from the voiceless, internal scream.
What the fuck has he done to deserve this?
She's finally ready, and he has broken his back so profoundly that there will be no moving for weeks. No exercise, no sudden movements, certainly no pounding her sweet, wet virgin pussy to his heart's content.
"We just need to wait until you get better. Doctor's orders!" she chirps as she softly boops his nose.
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seravphs · 10 months
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ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — ASTRONAUT! GOJO x MISSION CONTROL! FEM READER
Your job description entails taking care of one (1) astronaut on his way to Mars. It doesn’t say anything about falling in love with him. 
wc — 1.6k
tags — the beauty of space (and Gojo Satoru), rom com, fluff
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When you’re assigned to Gojo Satoru, the first thing you hear is ‘good luck’. It’s Nanami who says it. You suppose he would have strong feelings, being one of the few men who were going up there with him. 
They’re in the news constantly now. Of course they would be - brave pioneers of the new frontier. The first men to attempt a Mars landing.
Even for you, who sees them every day, it’s hard not to get caught up in the mythos of it. Glory burns bright and beautiful around them, a halo born of the knowledge that they’ll someday be in history books. Maybe you’ll be there too, a footnote riding on the coattails of their fame. 
They take care of humanity’s future, and you take care of them. Mission Control doesn’t have the esteem the astronauts do, but your jobs are just as important. You’re proud of the work you do. 
Though sometimes, your work is just silly. He is, anyway. 
“Helloooooo? Mission Control, come in.” 
“You’re not supposed to use the main line for personal matters, Satoru,” you remind him, a smile twitching at your lips. Director Utahime thinks you’re too soft on him, but you can’t help it. It must be terrible to be stuck up there for months, even if he says he loves it. 
You’ve seen his interviews. Gojo Satoru, golden boy of the astrophysics department at one of the most prestigious universities in the world. A prodigy, the youngest ever Nobel laureate for his work in quantum particles and space time. 
When he first declared that he would be going on the Mars mission, the world erupted in an uproar. He had transformed an esoteric field of dusty archives and chalk formulas into something real people cared about and tuned into his radio show to hear, even if it originally started because people loved his charming face. 
It was too risky. No one wanted to lose such a young talent to the vast and uncaring cruelty of space. 
Gojo heard these concerns, shut down his radio show, and appeared outside headquarters the next day without an appointment.  
Some say he’s pushy. Some say he’s determined. Whatever they think, one thing is true. Gojo Satoru gets results, which is why administration always lets things slide when it comes to him. Even when he clutters up the main communication line trying to talk to you. 
“If you wanted to get me alone, you could just say so,” he jokes, before he switches over to your private comm. 
“Mhm,” you hum. You’re distracted, doing your daily check on his vitals. 
“Looking at my heart again?” 
“Yep! All good, though I’m going to ask you to take a double dose of vitamin c tomorrow.” 
“Come on,” he moans. “They’re terrible. You’d think with all the scientists we have they’d manage to make it taste a little more like actual oranges.” 
“You know how hard it is to make things that last in space,” you tell him. 
The thing about Gojo’s genius is that it’s hard for him to understand others. He can do anything if he puts his mind to it, so hearing ‘no’ and ‘it’s impossible’ simply doesn’t compute to him. It’s why he started his radio show, or so he told you. He dreams of teaching people to see the world through his eyes. 
His beautiful eyes. 
Your cheeks heat. That’s not something you should be thinking about, but lately, it’s been getting harder and harder. You spent almost all your time with him, after all. 
As much as you try to be professional, you’re not immune to his stunning beauty. You know the voice on the other end of the line belongs to an man whose features are nothing short of otherworldly. He could be a model if he wasn’t an astronaut. He could be anything, actually, but you know why he chose this. 
The first time you heard Gojo speak on space, you fell in love a little bit. With him and with the cosmos. 
He’s the one who teaches you that the stars we see are already dead and gone. That light and time are intertwined in ways you didn’t understand before, that the little pinpricks of gold in the distance have fizzled out years ago and are reaching you now only as a eulogy. 
You tuned into his radio show on a whim, wanting to get to know the man you’ll be working with better. You stayed because his love for the universe is magnetic. 
Gojo’s favorite thing about space is infinity. He was a proud supporter of the alien theory. There had to be some life out there, in that great vastness. Anything is possible in space, he says. There might even be a planet where he can float or unleash devastating destruction with just a flick of his fingers. 
Before long, you were listening to his voice explain worm holes and cosmic inflation any spare moment you got. He was with you on the commute to work and in the shower while you scrubbed your hair. It was Gojo’s voice that lulled you to sleep every night, slow and relaxing in his special bedtime series. 
So you’d known him long before you met him. In your first real interaction, where he was so quintessentially Gojo in a way that completely put Utahime off, you laughed. His eyes widened, surprised by your reaction, then his lips split in a toothy smile. 
“At least one of you has a sense of humor,” he quipped, making a lifelong enemy of Utahime and a lifelong friend of you. 
You’re the only one who can put up with him, so when Gojo had been chosen for Project Ares, you landed an adjacent job as his handler in Mission Control. You’d known you’d work on Project Ares for a while now, but not that you’d be working so closely with him, or that it would feel so right. 
Of course you would be his handler. It was as natural as Gojo becoming an astronaut, which you’d always known he’d manage. It’s Gojo, after all. He would go change the future of humanity, and you’d keep him tethered to Earth. 
It had been a relatively easy few years, for a space mission anyway. Anything short of death was considered optimal in those conditions. You hadn’t realized you’d miss him like this, however. All this time, and so much of it was only his voice. In a way, it was reminiscent of the days before you’d met, hearing a beautiful mind work through the radio. 
“Oh, Houston?” Gojo calls through the line, singsong. “We have a problem.” 
His lighthearted tone doesn’t deceive you. You’re up in a second. 
“Satoru? Satoru? Come on, talk to me. What is it? You okay up there?” 
“I’m experiencing heart pains,” he says, letting out a low grunt of pain. “Palpitations.” 
Your blood runs cold. 
Space is Gojo’s passion. You’re happy he gets to pursue it. But in these moments, you wish he’d never heard of astrophysics because in space, you can’t reach him. If he gets hurt, all you can do is talk to him. 
He’s said he appreciates it. 
“It’s nice, you know? Gives me something to listen to other than the voices already in my head.” 
“Should I schedule a virtual visit to the psychiatrist, Satoru?” 
You joke around, but you know that’s all you can be for him. A voice in his helmet. 
Your hands are creeping towards the switch that’ll open your communication line to Nanami. At least if something happens, Nanami can actually get to him. 
“Fuck,” Gojo whispers. You freeze. You’ve never heard him talk like this, his voice low and raspy with pain. “It hurts.” 
“Tell me where it hurts, honey,” you murmur back, your voice instinctively lowering into something syrupy and sweet. Comfort comes naturally to you. You’ve always been a doting personality. It’s part of why they chose you for this assignment, other than, as you learn later, Gojo’s insistence that you be his line to Earth. “It’s going to be okay.” 
“It aches, sort of?” Gojo says. “Happens when I hear- ugh.”
“Hear? Hear what? If you can’t tell me, I can’t help you, sweetheart.” You have no idea where these pet names are coming from, but they just burst out of your mouth, as if tenderness for him is uncontrollable. Is it because you’re scared it’ll end like this? The chance of whatever you feel for him dying unspoken terrifies you. You wish you’d told him sooner. 
“Happens when I hear your voice,” he says. Is that nervousness you detect in his voice? 
Suddenly you have a very clear idea of what he’s playing at. 
“Satoru,” you say very calmly. “If you don’t tell me what’s going on, I’m going to call Nanami and you can explain it to him.” 
A flurry of panicked noises on the other end. “No, wait, no, don’t do that! I can explain. Just. Give me a second.” 
Ragged breathing. 
“Okay,” he admits. “I didn’t think this through.”
“Satoru.” 
“I’m sorry! You know how I am!” 
You do. Which is why you’re not immediately calling Utahime over to reprimand him. 
“I was going to wait,” he says. “This isn’t very romantic.” 
“I would say that’s more because I thought you were going to die from a heart attack in space than anything else, but go on.” 
“Sorry,” he says. “I love you.”
You were half-expecting it. After all, he’s right - you do know him. Somehow his straightforwardness still catches you off guard so badly your knee jerks and slams right into your desk. It’ll leave a nasty bruise when you check in the shower later. Most things are too soft to be picked up by your mic, but that was definitely loud enough. 
“…You okay?” Gojo asks, hesitantly. 
“When you come back to Earth,” you explain to him in clipped tones, “I am going to gut you. Then we are going to go on a date.” 
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2d-reality · 5 months
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Little Things (The Greedy Secondborn)
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characters: Mammon, GN!MC navigation: Lucifer | Mammon | Levi | Satan | Asmo | Beel | Belphie content/warnings: little things you do for the brothers, out of love. fluff. established relationship (implied you are dating all seven brothers equally with the exception of mammon whom i love more) word count: 584 notes: Each brother has their own part, linked above. I am still my own editor and I loathe editing, so please forgive any mistakes!
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It’s no secret you baby Mammon. Even, and especially, when his brothers make his life a little more difficult with their sibling antics. It’s certainly lessened with you around, as any off-color comments are immediately met with a harsh glare and sometimes a short word of admonishment. 
But even you can only stand so much of his klepto tendencies. He’s good about your most precious things, for the most part. Once, when you were still new to the Devildom, the heirloom necklace you had been unceremoniously transported with went missing. It was the only piece of home you had left, aside from your clothes, and you weren’t proud of the breakdown you’d had when you’d discovered its absence. You were so caught in your grief, and anger at every one of your newly-minted demonic housemates, that you didn’t notice the absence of your guardian for nearly two full days. 
It was Asmo who returned your presently most prized possession; you’d been so relieved to have it back that you’d kissed both his cheeks through tears, uncaring of how it had returned to you and unaware of Mammon’s soulful eyes peering from around the doorframe of your bedroom. You had noticed he seemed out of sorts over the coming days, but chalked it up to his avoidant tsundere behavior. If you’d known back then he’d swiped it, in a moment of unawareness, gripped by his sin as he so often was, you might never have forgiven him. 
Your relationship had evolved since then, and you wouldn’t dream of being cross with him now, especially if you learned that he’d hunted for your necklace, shook up every fence he had connections to, levied a hefty charge on goldie with the curiosities dealer that ended up with it, and weathered the lecture from Lucifer as a result without a word, all to see it returned to you. 
He’d been much more careful with the things you held most dear since then. He’s more observant than anyone would give him credit for, especially regarding you, his shining jewel. But you knew that he was as much a victim to his sin as his brothers, and you had learned to cater to it, even if you didn’t know about his crusade for your necklace. 
Lucifer (at least partially at the behest of Diavolo, you presumed) had established an allowance for you. You, ever independent, picked up shifts at the local spots when you could to earn your own money, but you wouldn’t lie, having a little extra to keep up with the elite (which you could forget the brothers were, at times) was nice. It was also nice to have a couple extra grimm to stuff in a pocket, or a drawer, for Mammon to take when his fingers got a little sticky. He ended up spending at least some of it on you, anyways; a popup cafe, a second dessert at lunch, a trinket that reminded him of you. He would vehemently deny being so sentimental, but the twinkle in his eye when you graciously accepted whatever treat he gifted you and returned the favor with a kiss twice as sweet was enough evidence for you. 
If he knew you were purposefully leaving it in the same places every week, and never commented on the hit to your budget, he never mentioned it. You never said anything either, happy to make his life as easy as you could. It was no secret, after all, that you baby Mammon.
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haespoir · 11 months
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never not: ldh.
⨯ pairing: ex!haechan x reader
⨯ word count: 2.7k 
⨯ summary: you broke up with haechan for your own selfish reasons. it's been nearly two years. surely he's moved on, right?
⨯ warnings: alcohol, ex/enemies to lovers maybe? open ending? angst!!
⨯ playlist: never not, lauv / phases, prettymuch / 2soon, keshi  
⨯ extra content: part two
⨯ a/n: ty @m-arkmywords for giving me this idea and dealing with my incurable haechan brainrot these past few days <3333 feedback is always greatly appreciated 🩵
. . .
You stare at the mirror in your room blankly. It’s mocking you. Whatever you were planning to do is a bad idea. And maybe it was, but it had been months since you had gone out to a party thrown by your friends. Mainly because they were also his friends, and while they assured you that you were always welcome, you knew that Haechan did not share those same sentiments. His voice from the numerous voicemails he left you echo in your mind. 
“Are you serious? You said that you’d love me forever; you think it’s that easy to let you go?” 
“Are you seriously just giving up on us like this? I gave you everything. Every last piece of me.” 
“I know it’s over, yet I don’t want to let you go. You’re my gravity. I’m always drawn to you.” 
“Fine, I’ll leave you alone. Don’t come crawling back to me.”
 
You had chalked it down to young love; the two of you had spent the last few years of high school together, and that continued when you went to college. But something snapped your 2nd  year and you couldn’t do it anymore. It was scary, growing up and settling down. Too scary. So even if it was a cowardly move, you left him. Of course, Haechan didn’t take it easily. You didn’t expect him to. 
It’s not like it was easy for you either. Up until that year, your life revolved around Haechan. In a way that wasn’t healthy. You had spent every waking moment thinking of him. He would get over it; that’s just the type of person he was. He never dwelled on anything for too long, and he never let it get him down. 
Unfortunately, you were terribly wrong; Haechan never got over it. Maybe on the outside, but if he was anything, he was a spiteful and prideful person. So he kept a lot of pent-up anger in that little body of his. The first time you had seen him after the breakup was terribly awkward, you didn’t know what to say or how to act. And Haechan was well… pissed. Rightfully so, but you had sworn to avoid any function that he would be at after that. 
And you had done a good job of that for the past few months. You had made new friends that weren’t his; you went to parties that he wasn’t at. You lived your life separately from his, and if you had to be honest, this was what you needed. Even if you loved Haechan with every last fiber of your being, you needed time and space from him to become your own person. 
Every time you had brought this idea up to him, it ended up in a fight. You don’t know who would start yelling first, who would take the chance to send a low blow. All you knew is that you would end up in tears, and the two of you would be too upset for any conversation after that. 
So now, almost two years after your breakup, you think it’s okay to finally attend a party you knew he would be at. You had given him enough time, and Jisung himself had personally requested that you be there. In fact, the text that he had sent you made you miss the younger male so much. He had always been such a sweetheart. 
jisung [3:20 pm]: please come to the party tonight jisung [3:20 pm]: just bc haechan got custody after the divorce doesn’t mean you can just never hang out with us  jisung [3:21 pm]: we aaaaaaaall miss you  jisung [3:21 pm]: (haechan included) 
But maybe you shouldn’t have trusted the male so wholeheartedly because the second you get to the party, you’re overwhelmed by the way Haechan doesn’t let you out of his sight once he’s spotted you. And you can tell he’s pissed. He ignores his friends, and his tongue is permanently pressed to his cheek. 
However, you can’t deny that he looks good. His hair is longer than you remember it being; it’s swept back to frame his face, and it gives you a full view of how his eyebrows are scrunched together. You assume it’s in anger, and you’re correct. Because pissed is an understatement for how Haechan’s feeling. 
He couldn’t believe that you had the nerve, the audacity, to show up to a party that you knew he would be at. You had done a wonderful job of pretending he didn’t exist for two years, so why the hell did you choose to show your face tonight? 
Seeing you woke up something in him that he believed died in him long ago. It was like the flip switched. Now don’t get it twisted, Haechan had not fooled himself like you had. He knew that he was never getting over you. Not when he had dedicated most of his adolescent years to loving you. You were all he knew. 
Even now, seeing you after months of getting his heart broken, he’s not even sure if he’s truly angry. Hurt? Yes. Confused? Absolutely. But these were all emotions that he didn’t want to explore, not today. So anger welcomes him with open arms, and he happily falls into it. Even so, he doesn’t think he could ever truly hate you. 
If anything, he hated how much he wanted to kiss you. 
So without warning, he’s walking across the room towards you. His jaw is clenched, and there’s a dent in the red solo cup he’s holding. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do or say, but he just knows that some part of him needs to be near you. 
“Why are you here?” His question is direct, and his clipped tone hits you straight in the heart. You have no right to be hurt, you know this. That doesn’t mean you don’t want to cry when his anger is directed towards you. But you would rather die than let him know he had any effect on you. After all, you were just as stubborn and prideful as him.  
“I was invited here by our friends,” you bite back, doing your best to seem just as pissed off as he was and making sure to emphasize the fact that they boys were your friends as well. “You don’t own this house, and you surely can’t police me on where I can and can’t go.” 
He hates that you’re right. His friends, while they were his friends first, had you known you just as long as he did. Perhaps he was blinded by his heartbreak to not realize that his friends also felt deprived of your presence as well. 
But that wasn’t his fault. You were the one who broke it off. 
“Cut the bullshit,” he says, fighting back the urge to roll his eyes. You had come to this party to start trouble with him. He was sure of it. “You made sure to avoid everywhere I go like it was the plague for almost 2 years. You can’t expect me to believe that shit now.” 
Unlike him, you don’t fight back the urge to roll your eyes. “We’re not doing this here,” you state blandly, grabbing the drink from his hands and toasting him. “Thanks for the drink, by the way.” As quickly as he approached you, you disappeared from his sight. He watches as you walk into the arms of some random person, and he feels his anger skyrocket. God, you were actually infuriating. Even more so because he found that attitude of yours to be so attractive. 
He decides to give you this one moment; you could think that you won this argument, but he would be back when he had more alcohol in his system. There was no way he wanted to argue with you sober; he would definitely crumble. As cruel as it was, he wanted to hurt you just like you had hurt him. 
. . .
You know it’s not the last of Haechan, not when you provoked him by stealing his drink. Which was disgusting by the way. It would be more convenient to walk around with an entire bottle of liquor than to nurse whatever that concoction was. (If you must know, it was mostly vodka. There was about less than 2% of juice in the cup. He had planned on getting hammered.) 
The red solo cup is quickly ditched on a random table, and you find yourself wandering around for a while. It felt odd to be in the presence of your old friends. It’s even more odd when you find yourself in the arms of Na Jaemin himself. The male has a cheeky grin on his lips, shit-eating if you will. He had stolen you away from the party, deciding that the quietness of the backyard was the perfect place for the two of you to catch up. Or attempt to.  
“You guys set us up,” you accuse, poking a manicured finger on his chest. He can only laugh, pulling you into a tight hug. He had missed you and your attitude. 
“Innocent until proven guilty,” he says, enjoying the way you almost melt in his arms. It had been so long since he had hugged you. When you had broken up with Haechan, Jaemin was the most distraught, as he was arguably closer to you than him. But Jeno had guilted him into ignoring you with something along the lines of ‘bro code,’ and he hadn’t made much of an attempt to ever hang out. You couldn’t blame him; you were a coward too.  
“Not funny, Jaem,” you pout, leaning your head on his shoulder as he rocked the two of you back and forth to the muffled music. “You guys didn’t even warn him about me coming. That’s cruel.” 
“No, what's cruel is listening to my friend cry over you for almost two years.” Well, he didn’t have to say it like that. “It’s ridiculous. Just talk to him, I swear he is not as immature as he was before.” 
“I find that hard to believe,” your words are muffled against his shoulder. With his arms wrapped around you like, it felt like everything would be okay. 
“Just trust me,” Jaemin says, pulling away from you. This only results in you whining, chasing the warmth of his body. “I’ll go get us new drinks.” 
You can only pout as the man detaches himself from you and disappears into the house. Now you’re left on the bench alone, left to deal with your thoughts. Has Haechan really spent the past two years talking about you? As much as you don’t want to believe this, you know that it was most likely true. Haechan was obsessive and stubborn. He most definitely was hung up on you. 
God, you were so stupid to think that he would ever be able to get over you, not to sound conceited. For the longest time, he was all you knew. He knew everything about you; he was there for every cry and laugh. Of course, he couldn't just let you go. 
And you couldn’t let him go, no matter how much you lied to yourself. 
You had tried going on other dates and seeing other people. But it was difficult. No one understood you like Haechan did. He was irreplaceable. 
“So this is where you went.” Why? Why did he choose now to come back? “What? Breaking my heart wasn’t enough? Had to break Jaemin’s too?” 
You can only groan at his words; these boys would not give up until you talked it seemed. What a disaster tonight had turned out to be. “Can we not?” 
“Well, when can we? Huh?” Haechan is visibly upset. His hair isn’t as neat as it was when you had run into him earlier; you knew that he had spent an astonishing amount of time running his finger through his hair for it to get that messy. He is also much more drunk, you note. You can smell the alcohol on him as he slides onto the bench next to you. “I think right now is the perfect time.” 
“You’re drunk.” It’s a simple fact, but it seems that Haechan is unaware of his own state.
“It doesn’t matter.” He’s whining now. Another sign that he was undeniably drunk. He was smothering and affectionate when drunk. It was impossible to deal with him. And he only proves this when his head falls onto your shoulder, his hands quickly seeking out your own in a death grip. He’s got you trapped now. 
“Even when we’re broken up my life seems to always revolve around you still,” you mumble, so unbelievably annoyed that the boys had pushed you right into Haechan’s arms. You couldn’t escape him even in your dreams, and apparently, fate seemed hellbent on making you suffer. 
“Still?” It’s like something clicks in him, and he’s suddenly sobering up quickly. This was why he was dumped? Because you loved him too much? “What do you mean by that?” 
“Nothing.” You want to disappear. You try to pull your hand away, but his grip only tightens. There was no way he was letting you slip away now. 
It’s so annoying to Haechan, the way that you’re here physically, but mentally, you’re so far away. You’re avoiding his eyes, and it bothers him so much more than he’d like to admit. His hands are gone from your own and quickly placed on your face; the way he turns your face towards him is rougher than he intends. But he just needs to see you. 
“Stop pushing me away.” It’s a demand, not a plea. “I know you don’t mean it.” 
“You don’t know me anymore,” you say, doing your best to mean it. Even if you wanted to erase him from your life, Haechan would be the one who knew you the best. Like you were the back of his hand. “So just let me go, please?” 
“Why?” He’s getting angry again, you can tell in the way he squeezes your jaw. “You want to go back to your boy toy Jaemin?” 
“You’re being ridiculous. You’re going to regret this when you sober up.” You regret this, and you weren’t nearly as intoxicated as him. 
“The only thing that’s ridiculous is you thinking you could replace me,” he says, using his grip to pull you closer to him. As much as you try to pull away, Haechan doesn’t let you go. Therefore you’re stuck in this position, a pout forming on your lips. He was too close for comfort. Without warning, he’s diving in and biting at your earlobe. “Does Jaemin know how sensitive your ears are?” 
You’re flinching away from his hold, feeling overwhelmed by Haechan being in your personal space. You couldn’t escape him. “Nothing can replace you,” you say quietly, feeling pathetically small in his hold. How could you cave in so quickly?
This is why you had avoided him like your life depended on it for the past two years. Not even 24 hours within his presence, and you were like putty in his hands. He knew exactly what to say and do to make you crumble. After all, no one knew you like Haechan did. 
That’s why you find yourself nodding mindlessly to his words, returning the small touches and kisses. You don’t even stop yourself when he pulls you onto his lap, marking up your neck, his hand gripping your thigh. Even though Haechan knows deep down that this isn’t right, he does know that you were destined to be his, and he would stop at nothing to make you his again.
Maybe that’s why you wake up in his bed the next morning, feeling absolutely horrible. His arms are wrapped around your waist, his face buried in your neck. It was like the past two years of avoiding him meant nothing. And it probably did, even if you want to deny it. 
You had grown, sure, but you could have grown with Haechan. But it was so scary. Being in love was terrifying. And facing your ex of two years after sleeping with him was just as scary. 
So you do what you do best. 
You run away. 
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ingravinoveritas · 7 months
Note
Hi!
Have you seen Georgia's insta story? She's filming david and one of the kids called her a creep
https://instagram.com/stories/georgiatennantofficial/3212913988487468030?utm_source=ig_story_item_share&igshid=MTc4MmM1YmI2Ng==
The only purpose of the video is just showing that even the kids think that her filming david all the time is weird
Like, yeah all of it is probs a joke but it rubs me the wrong way🤔
What's your opinion? Your blog is the 1st place i go to when i see news abt DT, GO or MS
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(Grouping together since these are related.)
Hi there! Oh, I hadn't seen Georgia's Insta story until I saw your Ask, so thank you for bringing it to my attention.
A little backstory, for those who haven't seen it: Today was David's panel at NYCC, and he started to tell an anecdote about being given a pair of shoes for Christmas when members of the audience began shouting out telling him to tie his (very pink) shoes that were untied on stage. David actually tied the shoes, and the video of the moment was posted by NYCC on Twitter. An hour or so later, Georgia jumped in with a response and at the same time, posted this story on Insta (and the photo in Georgia's tweet appears to be from the same day that the video was taken):
For my part, I was under the impression that this was not a recent video, so to your question @phantomstars24, I don't think she is actually at NYCC with David. Rather, it looks like Georgia was searching for David's name on Twitter (again) and found a place to jump in with the screenshot and video.
In giving my opinion on this, I have to reference Georgia's Insta story from last month at the festival she and David attended, where she recorded him while he was walking and eating his ice cream:
vimeo
Here, we see David take notice of the fact that Georgia is recording, after wondering why she was walking so slowly. He turns away for a moment, then looks back at her and says, "It's never gonna stop," and his voice is uncharacteristically...terse. He doesn't smile, or laugh, or give any indication that he is kidding (that I picked up on, at least). David's energy and the video as a whole just seemed off, but like many of Georgia's posts, it was written off as a joke.
The voice we heard of one of Georgia's children in today's video reminded me of that. Leaving aside the fact that this child actually flat-out called Georgia a "creep" (for which I'm also hard-pressed to find some alternate/jokey meaning) for recording David, the theme in both of these videos is Georgia constantly recording David for the sake of having content. And as we saw with today's Insta story, her then saving that content to use at a later date. I know the people who hate-read my blog will insist that Georgia gets permission from David before posting anything on social media and that he's fine with it, but it is really hard to think that he seems fine in the video from the festival. And how okay would any of us be if our partner constantly took video of us not to make cute memories, but so they can use it to prove a point later on?
As I've said before, all we get is this little slice of their lives that Georgia shares on social media. But increasingly, those little slices are starting to look like moments that might have been better left unrecorded/not posted to social media. To hear Georgia's own child call her out like that was jarring, but it also made me wonder how much they do see/what they think of what they are seeing. Even now it says something that they're already aware of her social media use and the lengths she is going to for content. (For that matter, I wonder what they will think in the future, such as if/when Birdie sees Georgia's Insta post calling her a "drunken accident"...)
Again, this could easily all be chalked up to me just missing whatever the joke/dry humor is here, but these were the impressions I had from seeing Georgia's content today. Happy as always to hear what others think, however, so feel free to chime in on this post...
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sara-scribbles · 1 year
Text
The Prince's Tutor
Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Leona Kingscholar/GN!Reader Summary: You're hired as Cheka's personal tutor. While working, you get to know the second prince, Leona. Notes: Just something I've had partially written and wanted to finish. I guess this would be in line with my royalty AU I did with Malleus. This also exhausts the list of actually royal characters from the game (does Idia count?). Might have some errors here and there that I missed, sorry in advance! Hope you enjoy all of Cheka's cuteness! Word Count: 9,064 Warnings: Attempted kidnapping, violence, some swearing, Cheka being adorable
As much as Leona wants to ignore his nephew, he can’t turn a blind eye to the fact that a stranger is leading Cheka out of the palace. The naive brat follows without thought as he excitedly chatters. A person he’s never seen before, leads the kid by the hand while nodding enthusiastically.
“Hey!” His voice echoes in the hallways.
Cheka looks around before a smile stretches across his face. “Unca Leona!” The cub lets go of the stranger’s hand to launch himself at Leona.
Grunting as the pint sized twerp barrels into him, he pulls him off immediately by holding him by the back of his shirt and unceremoniously dropping him on the ground. “Where do you think you're goin’, brat?”
“Teacher (Y/N) is taking me to the detached wing for lessons!” The boy isn’t bothered by the rough treatment as he springs back onto his feet.
You offer Leona a tentative smile, which he does not return. “Teacher? You’re the new brat’s tutor?” He sizes you up and isn’t impressed. You're a herbivore for one thing.
Nodding, you bow politely. “Yes. I was recommended by Cheka’s old tutor.”
Though you have no reason to lie, Leona isn’t completely convinced. You look green with the enthusiastic glimmer in your eyes. However, he decides to let it be. It isn’t in his nature to pursue further than needed. As long as it doesn’t seem that you’ll be kidnapping the furball, Leona’s fine. 
Waving you off, he turns around to head to his room. “Ya whatever you say.”
---
“Who was that?” you ask Cheka.
“That’s unca Leona! He’s the bestest unca!” the boy explains. His eyes sparkle with joy, and you can’t help but smile back.
You had heard of the royal family, though you hadn’t had much time to study the lineage before arriving. Seeing the beastman glare at you was a first. Cheka’s father was very welcoming and open when you met him briefly. You chalk it up as everyone having their own personalities and quickly forget the encounter. No use worrying about things that are none of your business.
Arriving at the detached wing of the palace, you enter the large library. Once you have Cheka settled, you start on the first lesson. “We’ll be learning about the history of magic. Let’s start with how magic first came to be…”
---
Later in the day, Leona happens upon you again. This time, you’re talking with his brother, or at least trying to. Farena’s too distracted with Cheka to really pay you any mind, and the expression on your face shows your growing irritation.
Leona tries to slink away without being noticed, but the fuzzball immediately catches him. It’s like his nephew can sense him from miles away. “Unca Leona!”
Hopping down from his father’s hold, Cheka runs up to him and wraps his short arms around his leg. “Let go,” Leona grunts through gritted teeth.
Cheka beams up at him as he clings on. “Today I learned about the history of magic! Did you know that magic existed a long, long time ago?!”
Rubbing his temples, he sighs, “Yes. Now, get off, brat.”
“Leona!” Farena comes over and claps him heartily on the back. “Have you met, (Y/N)?”
You give him another polite smile though he sees the way the corner of your mouth twitches downward. You’re gripping a stack of papers tight enough to wrinkle them. 
He scoffs and shrugs off his brother’s hold. “Yes. Tell your son to let go of my leg.”
Farena chuckles. “He just misses his uncle!”
Coughing, you interject. “Your highness I-”
“Please call me Farena. I insist!” he interrupts, giving you a blinding smile.
Lips pressing into a thin line, you look put out. “Your highness, I do need to go over the rest of the curriculum with you. I’d like to know if you think these will be suitable for your son.”
Waving you off, his brother takes the stack of papers you hold out. “Alright, alright. I’ll look at these later tonight and let you know tomorrow.”
Sighing, you bow. “Thank you, your highness. If you’ll excuse me, I still have to finish settling in.” You give them both one last bow before making a hasty retreat.
Scratching his ear, Leona watches as you disappear. “Where’d you find this one?” he asks, a bit interested as you don’t seem dazzled by his brother like everyone else. He wonders how long that will last.
“(Y/N) comes from the Queendom of Roses. And came with high praise from many teachers and scholars.” Farena glances down at the documents. “It seems they are very meticulous.”
During the conversation, Cheka had released Leona’s leg. Climbing onto his father’s back, the boy hangs there while peeping at the documents. “What does that say, papa?”
Farena chortles, “It says a lot of work for papa tonight. I’ll see you later, brother!” Leona is finally left in peace. There’s not much to do, though. It’s not like anyone expects anything of him.
He decides to find a place to nap. Like always.
---
A few days pass since that encounter, when Leona bumps into you again. Quite literally this time.
Papers fly in the air like snow. “Aaach!” You fall back on your butt with a thump before giving him a withering look. 
Leona stands there above you as the papers fall to the ground. He didn’t even move back an inch when you bumped into him. “Ya goin’ somewhere, herbivore?” he asks, amusement coloring his tone. Guess non-beastmen are all weak if a little bump sends you tumbling to the ground.
“...” You don’t bother to respond as you gather your scattered documents. 
Picking up one that landed on his foot, Leona quickly scans it. “Is this the brat’s curriculum?”
“Yes. I made some edits since your brother thought the last one was too much for Cheka,” you reply. He catches the frown that quickly fades into a neutral expression.
From the looks of the one sheet, you plan to teach Cheka basic magic and runes. Something most kids his age would not be learning until a few years later. “He might be right.” Knowing Cheka, the little furball will quickly lose interest.
Huffing, you snatch the paper out of his hand. “I believe he can do it. He showed great interest in the history of magic and learning fundamentals during our first session. He just needs to be engaged.”
“And how do ya plan to engage a six year old?” The boy has too much energy for Leona’s taste. Even Cheka’s old tutor had a hard time keeping him on track. He liked to ask too many questions that would quickly spiral out of control.
For the first time that day, you grin. “I have my ways, your highness.”
His ears twitch. “Hmm… Have fun with the twerp.” He walks past you without another glance.
---
“Now I want you to visualize the broccoli,” you tell Cheka. The young boy stares at the plate with the single broccoli you placed in front of him. “They look like small trees, don’t they?”
Cheka nods. “Yeah! They’re like small green trees!”
“Right! So imagine reaching forward and plucking this small tree from the plate.” You watch as the boy’s brows furrow deeply. His golden gaze is focused on the broccoli. Finally, he slumps forward.
“Nothing happened…” he pouts.
Ruffling his hair, you gently encourage him, “Don’t worry, Cheka. These things take time. You’ll get it soon!”
Though he smiles back at you, you notice it isn’t as bright. “Alright. Let’s do something else.” Clapping your hands together, you rummage through the trunk of things you had brought from home. “We’re going to do a reenactment of a myth”
“Reenactment?” Cheka pops the broccoli in his mouth without you noticing.
You hand over a few props. “It means we’ll be putting on a play pretending to be the characters of the story.”
“Papa and I play pretend all the time!” Excitement shines in his eyes as he takes the offered clothes.
Beaming, you put on a hat. “Then you’ll be a pro at this!”
Unbeknownst to you, a certain lion is sitting further in the back of the library on a windowsill. He chuckles as he listens to you start the story.
---
“So you like chess?” Your voice interrupts his thought process. A little annoyed to be disturbed, he gives you a glare but it doesn’t phase you.
“And so what if I do?” He should have played in his room in peace. But it’s being cleaned at the moment, so he had to find a different place away from others. Hence being in the library you use for Cheka’s lessons.
Shrugging, you tap the queen. “I learned a bit but never could actually grasp the game. It takes a lot of skill and foresight to be good. I don’t know much but looking at the board, I’m assuming you're a pro. That’s amazing.”
A compliment is not something he expected to hear from you. Nor is it something he’s heard in a long time. “The thing about chess is that you can play it alone. You don’t need anyone else,” he mutters.
Moving away, you bow. “Sorry to disturb you, your highness.” 
You turn to leave, but he stops you. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t like a match…”
Your eyes widen a fraction as he notes a small smile form on your face. “I don’t think I’ll be much of a challenge.”
He shrugs and gestures to the chair opposite. You sit down as he places the pieces back to their starting positions. “Take it as a chance to learn from a master.”
“A very humble master,” you tease before focusing on the board.
And true to your word, you aren’t much of a challenge. He manages to beat you in five moves. Despite losing so quickly you ask for another game. Occasionally you ask about certain pieces as your memory of the game is hazy. Despite beating you multiple times, Leona finds it entertaining. You don’t get discouraged even after losing every time. And you don’t lose as quickly each time.
Leaning back, you let out a sigh, “I think I’m all chessed out.”
He tips the queen on the board back and forth. “You’re not bad. You learn quickly. With some practice, you could get better.”
“Maybe even good enough to beat you?” you ask.
Smirking, he flicks the queen on its side. It rolls across the board to you. “Not even in your dreams, herbivore.”
You let out a laugh that lights up your face. For once you don’t have the stern teacher facade he’s seen you wear most times. Only with Cheka do you look like you’re enjoying yourself. He still remembers the sound of your voice as it fell and rose while you pretended to be different characters. You're much more animated when you’re relaxed and let your guard down.
---
Leona wishes he could be anywhere but here. Farena’s wife had foisted Cheka onto him just as he was going out. She knew he couldn’t say no, and so today he’s on babysitting duties. Where’s the brat’s nanny?
“Unca Leona! Look!” Cheka points to a small pastry stall. Rows upon rows of sweets and confections are on display. From the looks of it, the seller is not from around the area. The young cub eagerly runs over while Leona follows at a leisurely stroll.
Cheka presses his face against the glass case. “Can I have one, huh??”
“Yeah, whatever.” It’s not his fault if the kid eats sweets before dinner.
As the young boy eagerly points to a chocolate covered treat, the stall owner rings him up. “That will be 500 thaumarks.”
Leona stares at him blankly as Cheka is already eating the treat. “I don’t have money. Just bill it to the royal account.”
The stall owner nervously looks between him and his nephew. “I-I’m sorry, sir?” The confusion is written all over his face. Leona feels his irritation grow.
“I don’t carry money on me. Just go to the palace and ask to be paid. They’ll know what to do.” He starts to turn away, but the stall owner is still persistent.
“P-please wait a s-second!” This is why he doesn’t deal with non-locals, they don’t know the rules.
“Unca Leona, are we going to jail?” Cheka asks, golden eyes wide.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Leona almost snaps at the stall owner when a familiar voice calls to them. “Leona? Cheka?”
You’re carrying an armful of groceries as you near them. Dressed in more casual clothes, he almost doesn’t recognize you. Cheka grins as he bounds over. He wraps his arms around your waist, nearly making you lose your balance.
“(Y/N)! What are you doing here?” You set down the bags to give him a proper hug.
“I was doing some grocery shopping. What about you?” Your brows draw together as you chuckle. “You have chocolate all over your mouth, Cheka.”
The boy furiously rubs his mouth with the back of his hand. “Unca Leona and I are spending the day together! But since he doesn’t carry money, we’re going to jail.” He nods solemnly.
You tilt your head to the side as you give Leona a questioning look. “We ain’t goin’ to jail, brat!”
“I would hope not. You’re too cute for jail, Cheka,” you joke. Pulling out your wallet, you glance at the stall owner. “I can pay.”
“Yaya!” Cheka cheers as he jumps in the air. 
You hand over the money. Picking your groceries back up, you ruffle his hair. “My treat. I’m done for the day, so I’ll be heading back.”
Before Leona can say anything, Cheka follows after you as he calls over his shoulder, “Let’s go, Unca Leona!”
Muttering under his breath about being bossed around, Leona reluctantly follows. As Cheka runs ahead, you glance at the lion with an amused smile. “So, the great prince Leona was about to go to jail?”
Snorting, he crosses his arms over his chest. “As if. I’ve never had issues with paying. Everyone knows to bill it to the royal account. Apparently you out of towners know nothing.”
“Royal account? It must be nice to not worry about having to carry money.” Shaking your head, you can’t imagine the life he lives. “Maybe just carry a bit around just in case something like this happens again. I won’t always be there to bail you out.”
“As if I need you to.” He rolls his eyes before grabbing one of your bags.
“Hey!”
“You’re only holding us up by carryin’ all those,” he scoffs.
He can feel your stare but resolutely looks forward. “Thank you,” you mumble as you catch up to his long strides.
---
Most people in the palace know not to linger or rest in certain places. Those spots are reserved for a certain lazy lion. So, when Leona arrives at one of his napping spots under the acacia, he’s not pleased to see a figure resting there.
He’s about to kick the intruder out when he realizes it’s you. A book rests face down on your chest. You snooze with your mouth slightly ajar. It’s a funny sight.
His annoyance fades slightly. Too tired to go to another spot, Leona plops down next to you. There’s plenty of space for him. He’ll let the transgression go this time.
Sometime later when he wakes up, you’ve somehow moved so that your head rests against his shoulder. You’re drooling on his shirt sleeve. Clicking his tongue, he pushes you none too gently causing you to fall over and wake up.
“Huh?!” Sitting up, you rub the sleep from your eyes. “L-Leona?”
He sneers at his wet sleeve. “Ya drool like waterfall, herbivore.”
Picking up your book, you apologize, “Sorry… I can pay for it to be cleaned?” you offer, trying to wipe the leftover drool away.
“Tch. Maybe next time you sleep with your mouth closed.” Standing, he stretches and yawns. “Later, herbivore.”
Watching as he leaves, you wonder when he arrived.
---
“Cheka has improved exponentially. I think he’ll be ready for more challenging material in a year or so,” you inform Farena. Giving him Cheka’s mid-year report, you hand him a thick packet with your notes and observations.
Farena browses through the notes. “I’m glad to hear Cheka’s doing so well! He’s such a bright boy, but sometimes has a difficult time staying focused. I can tell you’re doing great work, (Y/N)!”
You bow your head. “Thank you, your highness.”
The door to Farena’s office opens and Cheka pokes his head in. “Papa!”
“Cheka!” The man beams as the young boy runs over to him. He hops into his lap as Farena hugs him. “What brings you here?”
“Unca Leona said I should stop bothering him and come find you,” the boy explains.
Ferna chuckles as he turns to you. “Are we done here?”
You do have a few more things you want to go over, but decide you can save it for another time. “I’m all set. You can keep the report. There's a plan for the next six months you can review and let me know what you think, your highness.”
Giving the prince one last bow, you leave his office. Shutting the door, you head back to your guest residence. Much like the rest of the palace, the guest quarters are just as lavish. There’s a fully functional kitchen, which you have stocked with food. You could have the royal chefs cook for you, but prefer making your own meals.
As you put together dinner, your thoughts wander to a certain second prince. Leona is an interesting character to say the least. He’s the opposite of his warm and friendly brother. Oftentimes you spot him napping in various places. It doesn’t seem like he has any duties and spends his days doing whatever he pleases.
You’ve heard the whispers of the staff. 
He’s the second born, so there are no expectations for him. 
He’s rude, prideful, and arrogant.
He’ll use underhand tricks to get what he wants.
His unique magic is terrifying.
He's good for nothing.
Even gossip has a grain of truth. Yet, you try not to cast judgment on him beyond what you’ve learned from your interactions. Leona is rude, prideful, and arrogant. But he’s also cunning and a brilliant strategist. Though he shows a strong distaste for his nephew, he does watch out for him in his own way. He seems to have a softer side, though he’d probably kill you if you ever said it to his face.
You don’t realize you’re smiling as you think about him.
---
“Unca Leona, can you show me your unique magic?” Cheka asks, his eyes sparkle with curiosity.
Somehow the brat had found him while he was snoozing. He had made sure to hide away from prying eyes as much as possible. Yet, no hiding place is safe from Cheka.
Not even bothering to open his eyes, he tries to shoo him away. “No. Leave me alone.”
Cheka persists. “Please! (Y/N) said everyone has a unique magic and I wanna see yours. Pleeeeeeaaaassssseeeeee!”
Leona sighs, exasperated. “Listen, brat, my unique magic isn’t for fun and games. People can get hurt, and I would rather not get yelled at by your mom.”
The young boy droops. “Okay…”
Rubbing his face, Leona stands up. There’s no napping now. “Where’s your tutor?”
He perks up. “(Y/N) is at the guest house. They said I can always visit whenever I want. Do you wanna visit them too, Unca Leona?”
Leona is already heading in the direction of the guest house. “Yeah, somethin’ like that,” he mutters. Cheka scampers after him eagerly.
Arriving at the guest house, the door is open so he lets himself in. “Oi! Herbivore, you home?”
There’s the sound of crashing and the two follow the noise. In the kitchen, you're picking up a fallen pot. “Leona?” You eye him quizzically as Cheka immediately runs over to you.
“We wanted to visit!” the boy exclaims. He stands on his tiptoes as he eyes the freshly made chocolate chip cookies set on the table.
You hand him one. “What do I owe for this surprise visit?”
“The kid wants to see some unique magic, so I thought since you’re his tutor, you’d be able to show him,” he explains, shaking his head.
You absently hand Cheka another cookie as he makes grabby hands at you. “I guess I could show him. My unique magic is basically useless for combat so it should be safe.”
Turning to the boy, you bite your lip. He has chocolate all over his face. “Come on, Cheka. I’ll show you my unique magic.”
“Yay!” He grabs your hand as you lead him outside. Leona follows quietly behind.
Standing outside, you close your eyes. “Let the green touch the lands wherever I go. Grow! Flourish! Nature’s blessing.”
Suddenly all around you, grass springs up. Wild flowers grow and bloom. Leona watches as a sprout grows taller and taller. It flourishes into a sturdy tree with dark green leaves that shade you from the sun.
“Woah! That’s amazing!” Cheka runs over to the tree to touch the trunk. “It’s real?!”
Bending over with hands on your knees, you catch your breath. “Yup, everything made with my unique magic are real plants. It’s about a ten foot radius all around.” You smile weakly.
Leona reaches up to pluck off a leaf. “To be able to create life from nothin’ is a feat.” He turns to you, green eyes gleaming. “And here I thought you weren’t that impressive, herbivore.”
“Well it’s not like any of this is useful. I can’t grow fruit or anything edible. The plants only last as long as they naturally can in whatever environment it’s currently in.” You plop down in the grass with a sigh. “It uses too much magic, so I’m usually tired afterwards. I guess it could be a neat party trick…”
Cheka is too busy climbing the tree to notice your exhaustion. Leona lays down in the grass. “At least it’s the type of unique magic people aren’t afraid of. This makes an ideal napping spot.”
Peering at him, you notice the way he seems off in thought staring up at the canopy of leaves. “Just because your unique magic might be dangerous, doesn’t mean you are,” you point out.
He snorts. “Most people don’t think that way. They’re all too blinded by their fear.” Closing his eyes, he can hear Cheka chattering to himself while climbing back down.
The young boy comes over and flops down next to Leona. “This is so cool!” He points at a spot on one of the branches. “Look! Even the birds are coming to rest.”
Chuckling, you lay down as well. You're still tired from using your unique magic. “Sometimes it’s nice to just lay in the shade of a tree.”
Leona agrees with a non-committal hum. Cheka worms his way between you two. The three of you rest in the shade of the tree.
Suddenly Cheka asks, “Do you have someone back home (Y/N)?”
“Um, no. Why do you ask?” You’re a bit afraid to hear his answer.
Cheka sits up as he looks at you then Leona. “Then you can marry unca Leona! That way, you can stay here forever, and unca Leona won’t be so grumpy!”
“Hey, brat, sometimes it’s better to keep ya mouth shut!” Leona snaps, sitting up as well. His teeth are clenched and he refuses to look in your direction.
The boy doesn’t seem too bothered by his uncle’s words. “But papa said if people like each other, they should get married. You like (Y/N), don’t you?”
“That’s…that’s none of your business!” he growls. Scowling fiercely, he lays back down and turns on his side away from Cheka. “Don’t bother me,” he grunts.
“Did I say something wrong?” Cheka asks in a loud whisper.
Biting your lip, you try not to laugh. “Just let him rest.”
Flopping back down, Cheka sighs, “I still think you and unca Leona should get married,” he says honestly.
You remain silent as you mull over his words.
---
A week before Cheka’s birthday, the palace is abuzz. Many people run around with decorations throughout the week. Farena is busy organizing the party and has invitations sent out to just about everyone. You received a handmade invitation from Cheka to attend his party during one of your lessons.
As his birthday draws closer, the young boy can’t seem to sit still for his lessons. You decide to switch tactics. Instead of lessons in the library, the two of you spend time around the palace gardens. Practical magic application requires more open space, and it gives you an excuse to let Cheka run around a bit.
“Did you see that?!” Cheka jumps around wildly as his attempt to move some pebbles with wind magic finally succeeds. They only roll a bit but it’s enough to excite him.
You clap enthusiastically. “Wonderful job, Cheka!” He tilts his head closer so you can pat him. He smiles triumphantly as you ruffle his hair. “I can tell you’ve been practicing your concentration. You’re progressing nicely,” you praise.
Picking up the pebbles, you place them back in a pouch. You gesture to Cheka to sit down on a nearby bench. Rummaging through the bag you always carry, you pull out a wrapped box. Handing it to him, you watch as his eyes light up.
“Is this my birthday gift?!” He’s ready to tear into it.
Nodding, you chuckle at his barely restrained excitement. “Yes. I thought you could open my gift early.” In reality, you don’t want Cheka to make a big fuss over your gift at his party. He most likely would receive far better gifts from the many guests.
He eagerly rips the wrapping paper away. Pulling off the box top, he pulls out a small snow globe. Rather than depicting snow, it’s filled with grass and miniature flowers. There’s even a miniature tree like the one that grew when you used your unique magic. The flowers and tree grow before disappearing in a puff of green sparkle and then regrow again.
“Woah!” He holds it close to his face.
“I infused a bit of my unique magic in some runes. I thought a small plant world would make a fun snow globe,” you explain. It took you many trials and long nights to complete the gift. Infusing runes with your magic took precise control and a lot of patience. It sounded easy in theory, but you had learned how difficult it actually was.
“This is so cool!” He carefully set the globe back in the box before wrapping his short arms around you. “Thank you!”
Squeezing him tight, you smile brightly. Pulling away, you pat his head. “Alright, lessons are over for today. I’ll let you enjoy some time off before your birthday.”
Jumping up, he holds the box with your gift closer to his chest. “I wanna show papa my gift!” He’s off like a bolt of light.
Shaking your head, you pick up the rest of your things before heading to the guest house. You hadn’t planned to give Cheka something, but you also couldn’t resist the urge to make him smile. His joy is infectious. As much as you promised not to get too personal with Cheka, he had wormed his way into your heart.
---
You try your best to avoid bumping into people as you weave your way through the party. There are so many guests, and they’re all in merry moods. Cheka’s birthday celebration is nothing like you’ve ever been to. There’s so much food and drink, it seems to overflow. Music and dancers entertain the guests. 
Beatmen, fae, humans and other magical creatures mingle and laugh. It was fun at first, but now you’re feeling tired. The excitement has become a bit too much for you. Sneaking out of the party, you manage to wander into the garden. The music and cheering is muffled, and the air feels nice on your heated skin.
Sitting down on one of the benches, you let out a relieved breath. “Too much excitement for ya, herbivore?”
Leona’s voice makes you jump up. You spy a set of bright emerald eyes staring at you. Sprawled out on the grass and mostly hidden by the bushes, he’s very hard to spot. Your heart still beats rapidly as you sink back down.
“Don’t do that…” You sigh. “I just needed a break from all that. It’s a lot to take in. Are parties usually this extravagant?”
He tilts his head before slinking over to you. “Usually. Farena likes to go all out when it comes to birthday parties.” He pushes you to the edge of the bench, so he can sit down. “It’s annoying but harmless.”
“So, what did you get Cheka?” you ask, curious since you didn’t see him give a gift during the present opening.
“A mechanical meerkat,” he answers. He shrugs when you give him a confused look. “Some toy inventor was trying to sell it a few weeks ago. No one was buyin’ it, but I thought the brat would like it. According to the inventor, it can lead you home if you tell it to.”
Peering at him, he doesn’t meet your probing gaze. “That actually sounds useful. You’re a good uncle, Leona.”
He grumbles something under his breath that you can’t hear. However, the way his ears twitch, you wonder if he’s just a little happy at the compliment. “Stop lookin’ so smug, herbivore,” he growls.
Grinning, you stand up. “Despite all your complaining, you care about him.” He scoffs but doesn’t deny your claim. “Come on, we should head back.” Offering him your hand, you meet his intense gaze with a fond look of your own.
Leona takes your hand, and you lead him out of the garden. Down the darkened halls of the castle, you two slowly walk back to the party while talking in low voices. You’re not in any hurry to return to the celebration.
---
There’s a night bazaar happening and Cheka is determined to go. You can only stand in Farena’s office and watch as the young boy begs his father to take him. Your paperwork was forgotten the moment Cheka had run into the office during your meeting.
“Please, papa! I really wanna go tonight! You promised last year that you’d take me!” he begs, his eyes wide and filled with pleading. The mechanical meerkat that Leona had gifted him skitters from the boy’s pocket to his head.
Farena sighs, shoulders slumping forward. “I’m sorry, Cheka. I really can’t. Papa has some very important meetings he needs to attend. I can’t push them off.” The unspoken ‘again’ hangs in the air.
Cheka’s large golden eyes fill with tears. “Bu-but…” His lower lip wobbles dangerously.
With a panicked look in his eyes, Farena meets your gaze. He stares at you for a moment longer before a smile stretches across his face. “I’m sure (Y/N) can take you though!”
“W-what?” Baffled, you can only open and close your mouth.
Cheka sniffles as he wipes his face before looking at you with hopeful eyes. “Really?”
You resist the urge to say what you’re really feeling by biting the inside of your cheek. “Of course! You’re not busy, are you?” Farena asks, his eyes pleading much like how his son was just moments before.
“I-I mean I had plans…” In reality, you were just going to finish grading Cheka’s last test and finish reviewing your future lessons. Very exciting things!
Having the king of all people look at you with what can only be called puppy eyes is a very startling turn of events. “Leona can go with you too,” he adds with a grin
“Unca Leona!” Cheka cheers, all sadness gone without a trace.
Farena gives Cheka a big squeeze before letting the boy rush off to find his uncle. “I’ll see you at the front door!” he calls before the door closes with a click. 
You meet his gaze, his eyes the same warm golden shade as his son’s. “I take it I don’t have much choice on this matter?”
The man shakes his head. “Of course you have a choice. I can’t force you to go.” He drums his fingers on his desk as he regards you with sharp eyes. “But Cheka’s so fond of you, I thought some more time together would be nice. If you don’t want to go, you don’t have to. Cheka’s a big boy, he’ll understand.”
Eyes narrowing, the easy smile on his face doesn’t seem so friendly. “As you wish, your highness.” You give a stiff bow before leaving his office.
You can hear Cheka’s voice drifting through the halls as you walk away. Shaking your head at your encounter with the king, you meet him at the front. Cheka is bouncing around excitedly while Leona scowls, his dark hair a mess. The meerkat hangs on his shoulders; it’s become his constant companion.
“I need to drop some things off at the guest house,” you tell them. Leona’s scowl seems to soften a bit when you come closer.
“Okay! Then the bazaar!” The boy grabs your hand. You can only give Leona a helpless smile as you're dragged along.
After putting away your things and grabbing some money, the three of you walk to the bazaar. It’s filled with people wandering about as they enjoy the food, entertainment, and festive atmosphere. Cheka tugs you to each and every stall.
He chatters non stop at everything he sees, pointing with wide eyes at the decorations. You listen to his enthusiastic ramblings while Leona follows a few paces behind. Eventually you stop at a stall to buy a few treats. Cheka is chowing down on a chocolate pastry from the same seller as last time.
“So, it looked like Cheka had just woken you up from a nap,” you comment.
Leona rubs his eyes. “The brat seems to have a knack for finding me regardless of how well I hide.” He shakes his head as Cheka starts eating another sweet. “How’d my brother rope you into this?”
Looking around, you notice a puppet show being set up. A group of children are already gathered in front of the makeshift stage. “Let’s just say your brother is very…persuasive when he wants to be.”
Snorting, you glance at Leona, who rolls his eyes dramatically. “He knows how to get his way.”
Nudging his arm with your elbow, you give him a teasing grin. “I’d say the same for you. The two of you go about it in different ways, but the end result is the same.”
There’s a sharpness to his smile. “I can show how persuasive I can be, herbivore. And I promise I’m better than my brother.” His emerald greens seem to darken as he holds your gaze.
Feeling heat prickle up your neck, you turn away. “Cheka! Do you want to watch the puppet show?” As you usher the young boy over to the show, you can hear Leona’s low chuckle, sending shivers down your back.
The puppet show starts after a few minutes. The story is rather morbid for a children’s play. The story revolves around a young man and his uncle turned stepfather, who may have poisoned his brother to become king. You become so engrossed in the play that you don’t notice Cheka slipping away.
There’s a particular moment in the play that causes you to turn to Cheka. “Did you see tha-” Your eyes land on an empty seat before frantically scanning around. Standing up, you urgently run over to Leona, who had opted to rest a bit away on a bench.
“Did you see Cheka?!” The fear in your voice is palpable.
He quickly sits up, eyes focused. “No. He couldn’t have gotten far.” Taking your hand, the two of you rush through the bazaar calling his name.
“Cheka? Cheka?! Cheka!” You split off from Leona hoping to cover more ground. As you rush by stalls and the throngs of people, you can only think of finding him.
Something shiny catches your eye near the edge of the bazaar. Rushing over, you realize it’s the mechanical meerkat that Cheka always carries. Though a bit dusty, the toy is perfectly fine. It immediately curls up in your hand as you pocket the toy. Moving away from the bright lights of the festival, you make your way through the dim streets and alleys in the general direction of where you found the meerkat.
You hear a loud sound coming from one of the alleys and carefully make your way over. Peering into the narrow passage, you can make out two figures struggling with a small figure. As the clouds suddenly part and moonlight fills the dark alley, your eyes widen. The two figures are struggling with a terrified Cheka.
“Let him go!” You rush at them as magic builds at your fingertips. However, Cheka cries out as a sharp pain radiates from the back of your head. Your vision blurs as you feel your body pitch forward. Everything goes black.
---
Waking up with a throbbing headache, you find yourself laying on your side. The grimy, cold floor rubs against your cheek as you struggle to sit up. Your hands are bound behind your back with rope as well as your legs. The world spins as you manage to sit up and take in your surroundings.
There’s not much except some planks of wood leaning against a wall, empty buckets stacked in a corner and a boarded up window. The air is stale and the only light comes from a door slightly ajar. You can hear muffled voices arguing.
“(Y/N)?” a tiny voice calls to you. Blinking as your eyes adjust, you realize Cheka is tied up as well. He sits with his back against a wall. His shirt hangs limply off of him and his face is smudged with dirt. 
“Cheka, are you okay?” you ask in a low voice.
He nods, tears threaten to spill. “When those men hit you, I thought…I thought you wer-” his voice breaks into a muffled sob.
“It’s okay, Cheka. Shhh, shhh.” You keep your voice down as you try to sooth him. “I’m okay. You’re okay. And we’re getting out of here.”
Sniffling, he tries his best to calm down. “H-how?”
“Give me a second to think.” There’s not much you can use in the room. If you try breaking down the boards on the window, it might draw too much attention. The only other way out is straight through where the voices are coming from.
Testing the bindings on your wrist, they don’t budge. Drawing on your magic, you summon a small fire. As they burn through the rope, you try your best to ignore the pain as the flame licks your skin. Once the rope is burned enough for you to easily break them, you do the same for the binds on your legs.
“Cheka, how many men are there?” you ask, tossing aside the burnt rope.
“Th-three I think. They’ve been fighting for a while. I-I think I’ve seen one of them before.” Once free to move, you crawl over to Cheka and start working on his ropes.
“This will hurt, but you can’t make a sound. Okay?” Peering at his tired eyes, he nods slowly. You try your best to burn the rope without hurting him, but you notice the way he slightly jerks away before biting down on his lip.
“Almost there. You’re doing an amazing job,” you praise. Tears fall, but he remains quiet. You tug at the ropes and they easily break. Making quick work of the rest of the bindings, you sit on your haunches. 
Contemplating your next move, you decide to get going. There isn’t much you can do, but you need to get out. Meeting Cheka’s gaze, you tell him, “I’m going to carry you. Hold as tight as you can and don’t let go. Whatever happens, don’t look. Okay?”
“Okay.” He scrambles to your side and loops his arms around your neck. Standing up, you nearly fall back down as the world spins and your head pounds. Using the wall to right yourself, you push through the bout of dizziness. You heft him up on your good side while leaving one hand free to cast magic.
“There’s going to be a lot of noise, but I want you to ignore it.” He answers by burying his face in your shoulder. Tightening your hold, you inhale sharply. Gathering your magic, you rush out the slightly ajar door.
It bangs open loudly, startling the three men. You recognize one as the stall seller from earlier. Before they can react, you quickly throw fireballs at their feet. You call upon the wind to whip  through the small area. It stirs the dust on the ground and sends smaller objects flying.
“What the hell?!”
You squeeze your eyes shut as you make a dash for the exit. Rushing outside, you stumble a bit before breaking out in a mad dash. It’s still dark out, but the moonlight makes it easier to navigate.
They have two horses tied up nearby. Honing wind magic with sharp focus, you direct  it to cut through the rope. The horses rear in fright and immediately run off. At least the kidnappers won’t be able to use them.
“Shit! Get them! Bring the brat back alive!”
You hold Cheka tightly against you as you pump your legs. Nothing else matters except getting to somewhere safe. At the outskirts of town, you can make the faint glimmer of lights in some of the houses. Urging your magic once more, a wind pushes against your back, allowing you to run just a little faster. You can hear the kidnappers shouting but don’t look back.
Cheka keeps his eyes squeezed tight like you told him, but his whole body shakes. You continue to mutter reassurances to him, though at this point you’re trying to reassure yourself too. Feeling the fatigue of using magic so much, you let the wind die down. You can only do a little more magic before it becomes an issue.
Passing by a few homes, you call out, “Please, someone help us!”
No one answers. You see houses that were once lit suddenly turn dark. Gritting your teeth, you adjust your hold on Cheka. You can hear the kidnappers getting closer. Rushing down side streets, you zigzag through the town. You knock over trash cans in different directions before bolting down a different alley.
There’s a brief respite from all the running once you can no longer hear the kidnappers. You set Cheka down to catch your own breath. Your chest burns from the exertion. The throbbing in the back of your head has gotten worse. Cheka stares up at you with worried eyes. He gnaws on his lower lip.
Glancing around, you spy a large, water drum near the door of a house. Usually used to store rain water, you notice the crack in the side of the drum. The house itself is dark and looks to be empty. There’s also a clothing line with dry clothes and a blanket hanging. There’s a sack leaning against the drum, and you can see a shirt sleeve sticking out of it.
An idea starts to form. “Cheka, I need you to be very brave right now. I know this situation is very scary, but I promise that you’ll be safe. Do you trust me?” You kneel so your eye level with him.
He nods solemnly. Any of that usual joy is gone, and it breaks your heart. “I trust you.”
“I need you to hide in that water drum. Hide in there and count slowly to one hundred.” You pull out the mechanical meerkat you had picked up. Thankfully it still works as it jumps out of your hand and climbs up Cheka to settle on his shoulder.
There’s a small smile on his face for a moment. “Then,” you continue, “once you finish counting and you don’t hear anyone around, I want you to use the meerkat to lead you home. You remember what Leona told you, right?”
“Yes… He said I just have to ask it to take me home, and it’ll lead me back to the palace.” 
Nodding, you ruffle his hair. “Good. Now get in the drum and don’t come out until you’re done counting.” You pop off the lid.
Cheka climbs into the drum. He peers up at you. “Will you be okay?”
“I’ll be fine. We’ll meet back at the palace, I promise.” Giving him what you hope is a reassuring smile, you place the lid on the drum. 
Grabbing the sack of clothes and the blanket, you dawn a large jacket and pull the hood up. You mentally apologize to whoever you’re stealing from and promise you’ll return everything. Covering the sack with the blanket, you hold it as if it were Cheka.
Breathing deeply, you give one last glance at the drum before running off. You can hear the kidnappers nearby and purposefully run by them.
“There! Get them!”
Running down streets and turning corners, you can hear them gaining. Just as you turn another corner, you come to a fence. There’s a stack of crates that you climb on to jump over the fence. However, the landing isn’t perfect as your foot lands the wrong way. You tumble forwards into the ground. Tucking the sack under your body, you come to a rolling stop. Getting back up, you wince as pain shoots up your leg.
One of the kidnappers, the stall owner, is rushing at you. As you attempt to flee, he manages to snag the back of the hood. You find yourself being dragged back. Then a clawed hand roughly grabs the back of your head causing the pain from before to intensify. Your eyes widen as you face rapidly meet the ground before you squeeze them shut. 
The burst of pain as your forehead cracks against the cold ground has you seeing stars. You cry out, but the assailant doesn’t stop. Something cracks loudly. An animalistic howl rips from your throat. You swear your face is on fire.
“Hey, man, stop!” There’s some struggle before the clawed hand disappears. You feel the cold ground pressing against your cheek but can’t see anything beyond the tears.
Someone rolls you over and the blanket is torn away. “Fuck! Where’s the brat?!”
Three shadows hover over you in the morning light. You feel a foot nudge your side. “Where’s the kid!?”
Through the pain, you find yourself smiling despite your face protesting against the gesture. You hand twitches and shakes as you try to raise it. However, a heavy pressure immediately stomps on your hand causing another scream to be ripped from your throat. You can feel the bones being ground down by the heel of someone’s foot.
“Not this time fucking mage!” growls one of them
“We’re gonna ask one last time. Where’s the boy?”
Through blurry vision, you can see their faces. Your heartbeat thumps in your ears as you see a glint of a knife in one of their hands. You were supposed to be a tutor, that’s it. Yet, you somehow find yourself bloody, bruised and beaten. There’s nothing you can do.
Whatever adrenaline that was rushing through you before, dies down. Your body sags as all the fight leaves you. Closing your eyes, you wait.
“Not gonna talk…” The foot on your hand moves away.
“Just kill them! We need to get outta here before the guards are called.”
You wonder if Cheka made it back safe.
“Let’s get this ove-arhhhhgghhh!”
Terrified screams fill the air. You can feel the crackle of magic on your skin. Gentle hands gingerly lift you up. The warmth of another body feels like a relief from the cold ground. Something tickles your face.
“You’re all a bunch of idiots. Hurting someone from the royal family is a crime punishable by death!” Leona growls. There’s a sense of relief that floods your body. You're safe.
“Take (Y/N) back to the palace and have the royal doctor take care of the injuries,” he orders. You’re passed off to someone else.
“I am the one who hungers. I am the one who thirsts.” Distinctly you can hear the kidnappers shouting and feel the ground shake. 
But soon you can’t hear anything. It doesn’t matter though as you allow yourself to slip away.
---
When you wake once more, you’re not in a grungy basement. You recognize your room at the guest house. Whatever aches and pains you had before aren’t as pronounced. Sitting up, you inspect your arms and notice your hand is bandaged up. You touch your face with your good hand and wince. There’s a dull throbbing all throughout your face.
“You’re awake.” The doctor, a cat beastman, enters. “How are you feeling?”
“Sore but fine.” You lean back against the propped up pillows. “Is Cheka okay?”
She checks your pulse. “The young prince is fine. Tired and scared, but he wasn’t hurt. You on the other hand needed a lot of fixing.” She clicks her tongue. “Your nose was broken and the area around it was extensively bruised. Your hand will need time to heal naturally, though I did reset it with magic. Your head should be fine after a few days, but you will feel some pain. Take one pill in the morning and one before bed. Drink plenty of water and get rest.”
Frowning, you set the bottle of pills down on the side table. “I’m Cheka’s tutor, I need to work.”
“You will do no such thing for at least a week,” she snaps. Her mismatched eyes glare at you as she shakes her head. “I will tell the king that you need rest or else.”
Shrinking under her gaze, you nod. “...fine.”
“Good. There’s some people here to see you.” Gesturing to the door, you finally notice Cheka peeking in.
He rushes to your side, but stops himself as he takes in the sight of you. “I’m sorry!” he suddenly cries out.
You panic as tears fall down his face. “C-Cheka? It’s okay! I’m fine!” You stroke his head with your good hand. “Everything turned out alright in the end.”
“B-but you got hurt because of me!”
Shaking your head vehemently, you give him a firm look. “You didn’t hurt me, Cheka. Those kidnappers did. Don’t ever think it’s your fault. Okay?”
Sniffling, he nods. “O-okay.”
Sighing, you give him a few more pats. “I won’t be able to do lessons for a week, but I’d like it if we could still hang out.”
Golden eyes brightening, he jumps up. “I’ll visit you everyday! We can read and play games together!”
“That sounds like a plan!” Giving him a big grin despite the throbbing pain, your heart feels lighter seeing him shine again.
He gingerly wraps his arms around you in a warm hug. There’s a cough that breaks up the hug. Leona casually leans against the door frame. “Come on, brat. Time to give (Y/N) some space.”
“Okay! I’ll be back soon. I promise!” He scampers off.
Leona saunters in and takes a seat at your bedside. “You look like shit, herbivore.”
“Thanks for pointing out the obvious.” The glare you throw him has no heat and a smile forms on your face.
He eyes you for a moment before shaking his head. “You’re a lot of trouble, ya know that?” There’s fondness despite the scowl.
“Thank you for saving me.” Your gaze softens. “I really thought I was done. I can’t tell you how relieved I felt hearing your voice.”
Leaning back in the chair, he smirks. “Ya owe me one.”
Eyebrows flying up, you warily ask, “What do you want?”
“Well,” he holds up three fingers, “you have to be my napping pillow whenever I ask. Play chess with me. And you can’t leave.”
Brows coming together, you frown. “I can do one and two, but three isn’t possible. You do realize I’m hired by your brother to be Cheka’s tutor? Once I’m no longer needed, I have to find a new job.”
Scoffing, Leona leaves the chair to hover over you. He’s dangerously close and you can hear your heart thumping in your ears. “I’ll just hire you as my tutor when the time comes.”
“You?” Despite his closeness, you still find the ability to laugh.
“Mhm. I believe there are some things that only you can teach me.” His eyes gleam brightly as he inches ever closer to your face.
You can feel his lips brush against your own. Squeezing your eyes shut, you wait. Even though your face hurts, you decide you don’t mind if he kisses you. Instead, you feel his lips brush against your forehead. Cracking your eyes open, your puzzled look makes him chuckle. 
His eyes are darker than before. “The doc says you can’t do anything strenuous. She’d have my head if I tried anything right now. But once you're healed, everything is fair game.” 
You feel very warm under his gaze. However, you’re also itching to heal as quickly as possible. You suddenly recall Cheka’s very innocent question about marrying Leona. Looking away from him, you wonder.
“Whacha thinkin’ so hard about?” he asks, noticing the way you can’t meet his gaze.
Shaking your head, you scoot over in bed. “Nothing. Since I’m on bed rest, you can comfort me.”
A single eyebrow goes up. “Gettin’ bold.” However, he crawls under the covers before hauling you closer to him. 
Resting your head against his chest, you relax. “So, are we…?” You trail off, not sure how to ask.
He snorts. “Of course we are. Keep up, herbivore.” Leona holds you gently, being sure not to touch any of your injuries. “Just rest,” he orders.
Closing your eyes, you decide not to worry about the logistics. Right now, you’re not Cheka’s tutor and Leona isn’t a prince. You’re just two people. And it’s perfect.
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lavender-romancer · 5 months
Text
Deceiver
Part Seven Tommy Shelby x Reader CW: slow burn, arguing
You've been involved with the Peaky Blinders business for a few years now, undiscovered as a woman posing as a man. Now the Shelby boys have grown suspicious of you and want you found out.
an: set in season one
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”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜
previous part
As you stirred awake you looked up, there were a considerable amount of cobwebs on the support beam running through the center of your room. Their delicate intricacies were illuminated by a stream of morning sunlight through your curtains. It was so beautiful but your mood this morning just made you want to dust it all away. Today was Cheltenham.
One comfort of this awful day was that you could take some aggression out on some Lee boys, whilst Tommy would be prancing around with Grace doing fuck knows what. No, you had to try and control your anger on the subject. It wasn't worth all your thoughts and anyways you had to meet Arthur, John and Johnny.
"Eddie," Arthur yelled, getting your attention in the dockyard, "What's our mission?"
"To fucking stick it to the Lee boys!" You announced with a smirk towards John.
"That's right. The Lees are skimming money off legal bookies. Running chalk, selling rafflers, beating up bookies. But today, we're going to stop them." Arthur raised his stick, "Anyone with a gun, we won't be using it unless it's pulled on you. Take what you have, whatever it is. Let's fuck up the Lee boys, lads!"
You all loaded into a van, with you, Arthur and John in the front. It was 60 miles to Cheltenham and no matter how much you talked to the boys, all you could think about was Tommy and Grace in a car together. No matter how much Arthur hammered the point of this being 'Tommys Army' you struggled to get excited when you knew you wanted to be the pretty blonde girl dancing with him in a nice new outfit. Not that you'd want to wear a dress but-fuck- you were so insanely jealous of the barmaid you didn't know what to do with yourself.
Even when Tommy reassured you that there was nothing between him and Grace, all you could see was them kissing in the light of the bar when you opened the room to the booth. How did you get here? Obsessed with a man who couldn't or wouldn't commit to you, you were more likely to grow old with Thomas as his friend or mistress.
Looking out of the window the shouting coming from the boys faded into white noise. Closing your eyes you saw Tommy's smile. You didn't want to be his friend, you didn't want to wait forever but you knew he should be with her because you couldn't compete. It wasn't as if you could blame Grace for it all anymore, she was a convenient scapegoat but not one that made sense. There was something between Tommy and Grace that he wouldn't admit to you, and you couldn't blame him. It wasn't anything new, you often had to separate your life and the possibility of love.
Love doesn't last the way respect and job security do, it can be fickle and easily betrayed which were eventualities you couldn't afford. You were used to being alone, but you weren't used to being as vulnerable as you would be if you ever lived your life as a woman.
Tommy was dancing with Grace, their bodies close and moving in time with one another. He did keep looking over at Kimber's table but couldn't help but feel Grace's body against his. She was an easy choice, a safe one. There were no complications he knew of, she was beautiful and wanted him. But you. He dreamt of you. He had to stop himself from seeing you every single night. There was such an undeniable magnetism between the two of you that Tommy struggled to justify considering choosing Grace over you. There were complications but who gave a fuck about that?
He dipped Grace in the choreography of the lively dance and she smiled, it was so ridiculously beautiful. Tommy couldn't help but smile slightly back, pulling her back up. She laughed softly and Tommy bowed his head so he wouldn't laugh in return. There was a part of him that wanted to kiss her, wanted to fuck her and move on from there. He craved immediate gratification and Tommy couldn't seem to let you give that to him. The lust feeling was intoxicating, being able to look you up and down but knowing he wouldn't take it any further. Even when he was drunk he only kissed your hand, it was pathetic. But Tommy wanted you to understand how deeply he cared for you, that he didn't want to just fuck you and leave it at that. But Tommy failed to explain this to you and it led to a horrific case of crossed wires.
You'd got the stolen money off all Lees boys by this point chased them off the track and down to Devon road, they were long gone, some by persuasion, most by force…. But realistically it came with the territory of a blinder, cut off an ear here, punch someone in the face there. It would be on the job description.
"We need to get this all back to Tommy." Arthur said, holding the 7 napsacks over his shoulder as you, him and John stood under a stairwell and smoked.
"I'll take it." You said all too quickly and the brothers snickered.
"Someone wants to see his man." John smirked and you rolled your eyes.
"Don't get too jealous of Grace." Arthur couldn't stifle his laughter as he handed the napsack to you, the two of them keeling over laughing with jokes about you and Tommy. You just snatched the bags and walked up the stairwell to the agreed meeting point.
Seeing Tommy poke his head around the door and smile at you sent a warm feeling around your whole body. It only seemed to dissipate when you saw Grace, you dropped the bags at his feet and glanced at her before going back to Tommy.
"Any problems?" Tommy asked, looking you up and down without letting Grace see.
"None. We got it all back and ran the Lee boys off the tracks. A few cuts and bruises but nothing major." You smiled at him and the two of you took a moment, just looking at one another lovingly before snapping out of it.
"Get Arthur to buy all the boys a pint, I'll see you later." He gave you a smirk before you shut the door.
Standing on the other side of the door, you almost jumped up and down from the way he looked at you. The man looked like he wanted to rip everything off you and take you right then and there. It was impossible to forget, even when you were sitting back in the Garrison a few hours later. Every so often you'd take a sip of your beer, but mostly you stared into space and thought of his eyes.
"Now, should I guess who you're daydreaming about or just come out and say it?" John laughed and sat next to you at the bar.
"You can keep your mouth shut," you smiled, "What do you think of Grace?" You asked after a pause.
"Great set of legs." John raised an eyebrow.
"No, idiot. I mean, she doesn't seem suspicious to you, comes out of nowhere trying to help with the business and now she's working for us all because she's a liar? Seems odd." You shrugged.
"Think you're just being paranoid and a little bit jealous. Personally I don't think she really does much, has no excitement in her life, this gives her some shit to do." John took a drink of his pint and lit a cigarette.
"When she is finally found out for being a deceiver, we'll only have men and their cocks to thank." You said, exasperated with John. How he could immediately assume you were jealous without a second thought. "If you didn't know I was a woman would you still question me like this or just take it at face value?" You said close to his ear before walking out of the door.
You were sick of the teasing, you had tried to tell yourself that they didn't treat you differently but it wasn't true. They just saw you as some sort of scorned woman, who wasn't capable of thinking straight. You weren't being jealous. Were you? No, she was suspicious and it didn't make sense that she came out of nowhere. Walking in the chill of night your chest heaved, what could she and Tommy possibly be doing? Was it all fooling him as well? Your brain felt so foggy it was impossible to think straight, all you wanted was to get home.
Tommy was sitting on the doorstep in front of your house and in the moment you just wanted to run up and kiss him. His face was so beautifully lit by the moonlight, with a slight smile on his lips he looked so pretty. But, instead you walked past him and unlocked your front door, leaving it ajar for him. You walked straight up to your room to unbind your chest, it had been an extremely long day.
After changing into a looser fitting men shirt you went back downstairs and found Tommy with two glasses of whisky in hand sitting on the settee. You gratefully sat down next to him and took the glass, whilst the whisky you owned was a shocking quality it still took the edge off more than a pint.
"How did today go?" He asked you.
"We got all the money, if that's what you mean." You directed a polite slightly unfeeling smile in his direction, our head felt like it was going to burst open with anger because of how John had spoken to you. "How was Grace?"
"She did her job. Looked pretty and danced with Kimber." Was all that he said, you couldn't help but assume ther was more he could say about her but didn't. You just sat holding the glass in your lap and looking down at the liquid through the crystal shapes in the glass. It was so distorted that staring at it this closely was giving you a headache. You placed the glass back on the table in front of you with a slight clink and returned to your position. Hands in your lap, looking down at them in silence because you didn't know what to say. Didn't know the right thing to say without coming off as jealous. Because regardless of what the Shelby boys said about your apparent jealousy, Tommy's connection with Grace just made you sad. You wanted the day out at the races, the hurried sexual favours in a side room, the openness in society.
At this point whilst you considered growing your hair out and stopping binding your chest, what would be the point if the person you were doing it for couldn't commit? He claimed that he would die for you but he was happy to kiss Grace, happy to fade into a silhouette of nothing as she stifled his light. He wouldn't commit to you whilst he still wanted to get his dick wet and not give you the time to be in society as a woman at your own pace. The silence was pounding in your ears, consuming your body in a cold blanket of insecurity. You could only think about how he could be normal with Grace, live a normal life. It would be boring and he might not be happy but it would be normal.
"Y/n?" Tommy said softly and you nodded in acknowledgement. "What's going on?" He asked in a confused tone.
"I just… I don't know why you're wasting your time with me. Maybe wasting is the wrong word, but you only have so long in this life and I don't know if we can give eachother what the other needs." Your eyes were hurting with the amount you were straining them so you didn't cry.
"Do you want me?” He said, making it sound so simple and you brought your eyes up to his- so much emotion and hurt was shown with this one look that Tommy felt taken aback, had he hurt you? "If you want me, then we give each other what the other needs."
"I don't want to be someone you can't commit to." You said quietly, looking back at your hands in your lap. "You're going to forget about me and marry someone without all the complications. Someone like Grace is perfect for you."
"I've told you before that Grace is not your concern." Was all he said and you couldn't help but scoff.
"Alright Tommy. You can stay to finish the bottle if you really want to, but I don't know if there's anything else for us to talk about now." You stood up and looked at him with tearful eyes. Why couldn't he understand how you felt about him, why couldn't he understand how deeply you cared for him?
"Y/n," he said in a soft tone and you bit the inside of your cheek to stop the tears from flowing.
"What else is there to say?" You asked quietly.
"Nothing happened." He paused. "Between me and Grace, since that night when you saw…" you got a horrific flashback of seeing Grace and Tommy kissing.
"But you still don't want to commit to me do you." It wasn't even really a question, more of a statement.
"Why do you assume that?" He placed his glass on the table in front of him next to yours, they were closer than the two of you felt right now.
"Because of how you act, Thomas and because I know you. You don't want a complicated personal life when your business life's complicated enough." You held your forearm with your other hand, feeling insecure in front of a Tommy that seemed more vulnerable.
"You've never asked me to commit to you, not in those words anyways." Tommy stood up and took a step towards you, your eyes were fixed on a point on the floor where the wood was cracked and splintering. "I've wanted you for years now. Ever since I met you it's been the same, there's always been something."
“If I finally live as myself I lose all independence, if you leave me after I live as a woman I won't have any agency! You don't understand how much anxiety that creates for this whole situation, it's not just about fucking feelings.” You paused and ran a hand down your face, tears forming in your eyes, “It's about the rights I have over myself, men won't treat me the same, I'll never be viewed the same by anyone. I'll never be able to walk home alone without being scared, I'll be posing as someone I've never been! I've lived this way for so long it's comfortable, and unless you can prove that you want only me then-”
“Y/n,” Tommy held your shoulders in both of his hands, “you can dress however you want, have the same job, fuck, you can get a better paid one in the company. You'll still be my right hand person regardless of how you live. I've never been able to control you and I don't intend to try and start. There has always been a part of my soul connected to yours, Y/n.” You were still looking at the splintered wood.
“How much room in your soul do you have when you desire two people?” You sounded malicious and honestly it wasn't intentional because most of what Tommy spouted sounded like lip service to get you to be complacent.
“What?” He asked, his hands falling from your shoulders.
“You heard what I said,” you walked past Tommy and sat down on the sofa, pouring yourself another poor quality whiskey. After downing two glasses your throat burned in a satisfying way that distracted you from your head.
“Why do you think I'm here? Practically begging you to give me some time.” He let out a long sigh.
“You feel the same way I feel about you about her. I know that's what is really in your soul. Even though she doesn't love you, she isn't truthful, she's so deceitful but you can't see past your hard cock long enough to realise. You fucking know I'm in love with you, I'm convinced you've known it the whole time. But it's more exciting to string two people along than commit to anyone. You can perpetuate your tortured heart narrative and everyone feels sorry for you, well I don't care anymore. Do whatever you fucking want, fuck her, fuck me. Everything's controlled by you and you love it.” You picked up the bottle of whiskey and started drinking straight from it. Leaving Tommy to stand there not knowing what to do. The two of you existed in a sort of social limbo for a few minutes before Tommy sat down next to you and you offered him the whiskey bottle.
”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜
Taglist: @kathrinemelissa @wolfieellsworld @archivallyfound09 @hopefulinlove @globetrotter28 @buttercup32sstuff @teamfreeavacados @just-a-blackhole @sabbbyn @sillyfreakfanparty @lovelyreader22 @leaked-adrenaline @ghxst-heart @bat-luna-cat @emily-roberts @thattransgayscout @cristina-01 @pockeymcmockey @moonshooter @horror-eye @hiatuswhore @missmunscn @slaypussypop-21 @slutforcoffein @lovemisshoneybee @louderfortheback @faye777 @pastthetreesandstars @gimmie-tea Peaky Blinders Taglist: @queenofkings1212 @severewobblerlightdragon @cl5369 @fairypitou @stressedandbandobessed7771 @shadow-of-wonder @hipsternoionlylikeunicorns @curled-hair-red-lips @lucystivinsky1315 @lovemisshoneybee
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rayshippouuchiha · 1 year
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TBH the lack of Real Respect Tsuna and Skull both get makes me wanna see ‘em just… Vanish. They aren’t hurt, or in trouble, but they both end up tired as hell and want like. One (1) year to themselves, without being called shit like useless or lackey or weak. So they fuck off and onto some whimsical journey across the world, probably running into the fair folk or some shit (because Tsuna’s Super Anxiety would make him a damn hard target for them, and I feel like they’d just Vibe with Skull. Immortal and all that).
Meanwhile, everyone back in Namimori is losing. their. shit. Trying to find their two dumbasses, flipping every damn stone over because they’ve Clearly been kidnapped. No One notices the note Tsuna and Skull left, because Skull still isn’t the best at writing and Tsuna’s Super Anxiety kicked in and said that if he wrote it he’d never get his goddamn vacation.
To clarify, this is meant to be (mostly) humorous, but I’m curious to see where you’d go with an idea like this. I just want Skull and Tsuna to travel the world together TBH. Feel like they’d make good brothers.
Oh oh yes. Obviously there'll be humor but, well, it's me and we all know how these things eat my brain and I have to give them some bite so:
Skull isn't really one of Arcobaleno that Tsuna generally spends much time with.
When it comes to the Strongest, the ones Tsuna's found himself spending the most time with has always been Reborn and, surprisingly enough, Fon.
Reborn is around more often than not, content to keep torturing Tsuna even if his official title has shifted from Demon Tutor to Demon Tutor/Advisor.
And Fon's tendency to stop by frequently can be chalked up to I-pin and the fact that, for some reason, the Storm seems to be under the impression that hanging around Tsuna will, somehow, help him grow closer to Hibari.
Which is something that doesn't really make much sense to Tsuna. Even after years of being dragged into and out of various ridiculous shenanigans together, and despite recent Hibari's tendency to commandeer Tsuna's bed or floor or balcony at random times to nap, Tsuna's still not convinced that Hibari actually remembers he exists whenever they're not in the same room together.
And sometimes not even then.
A part of Tsuna also suspects that the "Small Animal" title he carries now might just be Hibari's way of getting around the fact that he doesn't remember Tsuna's actual name anymore.
It is, much like most everything else involving Hibari and Tsuna's thoughts about him, confusing and difficult for Tsuna to make up his mind about.
So, besides Reborn's continued sadism and Fon regularly attempting to use Tsuna as some kind of emotional Switzerland and/or human sacrifice to Hibari, Tsuna tends to see the other Arcobaleno on a bit of a floating schedule.
Viper, as Reborn has taken to insisting everyone outside of the Varia call the Mist, tends to blip in and out every once in a while. Often bringing news from Xanxus and leaving with anything strawberry flavored in Tsuna's house and whatever money he might have in his wallet at the moment.
Lal Mirch and Colonello tend to arrive and depart together, attached at the hip now no matter how much they bicker.
Verde's version of checking in seems to come in the form of sending whatever new robot or nightmare construct he's thought of to attack Tsuna and "gather data".
But Skull?
Tsuna rarely sees Skull.
The Cloud floats in and out of town only rarely and never stays longer than absolutely necessary. Often times he's gone within the hour.
Which is, in Tsuna's opinion, actually kind of a shame.
Because the thing is, Tsuna actually likes Skull.
Oh, he hadn't a few years ago when they'd first come across each other.
No back then Tsuna had hated each new and increasingly ridiculous trap/trick/shenanigan and situation Reborn had managed to push him into.
Skull had just been another irritation on a rapidly increasing list of things Tsuna hadn't wanted to deal with.
But ,,,
Well, it hadn't taken Tsuna long to realize that Skull and he were much more alike than he'd ever thought possible back at the beginning.
And now, with a few years of Reborn and this mafia headache under his belt?
Now Skull's someone that Tsuna wouldn't actually mind seeing more of.
Even though he knows it's not likely to happen.
Mainly because Tsuna's not actually a complete idiot no matter what some people still seem to think.
Tsuna's seen enough interactions between Reborn and Skull to have a pretty good idea about where some of the chips in that relationship fall.
Plus Hyper Intuition is helpful for more than just life-or-death battles these days even if Tsuna's not made that fact as openly obvious as he might once have.
It's yet another area in which Tsuna's found he can sympathize with Skull.
Because Tsuna also has a hyper-violent sadist he half wishes he could care less about sometimes.
Which is why Tsuna's so surprised to see a familiar pair of leather-clad legs dangling over the edge of the roof when he steps out onto his balcony, desperate to escape the screaming and general chaos that has once again taken over his house.
Tsuna goes to call out only for that familiar flare of warning heat to snap his mouth closed.
Instead Tsuna does something that he wouldn't have been able to a few short years ago.
He reaches up, grabs the edge of his roof in one hand, and pulls himself up onto the tiles above him.
When he's kneeling on the roof a few seconds later Tsuna finds himself glad that he didn't make too much noise, glad that he didn't draw any attention to Skull.
Because Skull's currently laid out on Tsuna's roof, legs dangling over the side but arms pillowed behind his head, helmet settled at his hip and eyes trained on the night sky and face almost eerily blank.
It is, Tsuna can't help but think, the quietest he's ever seen Skull.
It's honestly a little unsettling.
But, worst of all somehow in Tsuna's opinion, is the fact that Skull looks ,,, tired.
He doesn't even bother to greet Tsuna beyond flicking those vibrant violet eyes in his direction before going back to his star gazing.
To Tsuna, Skull has never looked more like everything he was taught a Cloud is supposed to be than in this moment.
Cold.
Illusive.
Bound to drift away.
The thought sends a shiver of premonition down Tsuna's spine.
Tsuna finds himself laying down on the roof beside him, legs dangling over the edge and arms folded behind his head.
Their elbows are just barely brushing.
And all the while a flickering whisper in the back of Tsuna's mind sings.
"I'm tired," Tsuna finds himself saying some silent drawn-out minutes later.
A beat of silence.
"Yeah," Skull sighs, voice lower and smoother than Tsuna has ever heard it before, "me too."
"I," Tsuna pauses, swallows, feels his Intuition surge and sharpen, "I love my friends and I know they care too but sometimes I just ,,,"
Tsuna trails off because he knows that Skull understands without him ever having to finish.
"Wish you could go to sleep and wake up on the opposite end of the world so that maybe you could get some rest and peace before they inevitably find you again?" Skull offers.
"Yes," The answer practically bursts out of Tsuna.
Another beat of silence.
"I've got an airship," Skull announces.
Tsuna hears it for the offer it is.
"They'd find us," Tsuna points out softly, twisting just a bit so he's looking Skull in the face. "They'd hunt us down and drag us both back."
The smirk Skull sends him in return is far darker and slyer than any expression Tsuna's ever seen on his face before.
"Oh, malysh nebo," Skull practically purrs, "they could certainly try."
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sweetestofchaos · 7 months
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➵ Parings: Teacher!Jungkook x OC!Netta ➵ Genre/Trope: Fluff, Smut, Friends to Lovers, Co-Worker AU, Teacher AU ➵ Rating: 18+ ➵ Summary: The new English teacher has a big fat crush on the PE teacher Jeon Jungkook and everyone know about it...including Jungkook, himself. ➵ Word Count: 6.1k ➵ Warnings: Kissing, Thigh Riding, Ass Smacking, Food Play, Oral (fem receiving), Fingering, Mentions of Periods
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𝘮.𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 ▵ 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 ▵ 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯
a/n: 10 months later and I’m finished!! I have to thank @dawnagustd​ and @vvh0adie for helping me ease into the smut from when I first started writing this bad boy. I was starting at the screen for hours just looking dumb. Thank you @hobeemin​ for being my beta, your comments made me giggle!! Banner made by the wonderful @floralkive. MDNI/Support divider made by @benkeibear​​​
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It was a known fact that Little Flower Academy was one of the few elementary schools that didn’t have a dating ban for its employees. The headmaster wasn’t stupid; he knew that if you worked around people for days at a time, crushes and even love were bound to happen. Netta was the kind of woman who never mixed business with pleasure, but when Jeon Jungkook came into her world, that idea was washed away like the chalk lines at recess. Netta had a huge crush on Mr. Jeon, the cute Health and PE teacher. She wasn’t sure what it was about the man that made her heart pound so harshly. With just a single glance or if he smiled, Netta swore there were yellow jackets in her stomach, or maybe it was just pizza sticks she ate from the cafeteria. 
The first time Jungkook spoke to Netta, she couldn’t stop staring at the mole on the bridge of his nose; it was cute. She was so lost just staring at it that she completely missed the question that had been asked. It wasn’t until Jungkook laughed and awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck that Netta snapped out of whatever trance she had been in. She apologized for zoning out, and Jungkook shook his head, his dark hair flying around his ears before he repeated his question. He wanted to know how she liked the school, and if she had any issues, she was more than welcome to come to him. Issues? There was only one that Netta could think of, and it was standing in front of her.
The two quickly became the topic around the water cooler of the academy. Teachers and parents alike all whispered about how good they looked together, the dream team they were called to their faces, and behind their backs, they were the perfect couple. Netta heard the rumors and wasn’t sure if Jungkook had too. If he had, he never let on about it. Jungkook was kind and very funny in the weirdest of ways. He was a giant nerd, to be honest, and Netta was thankful that she could see that side of him as his friend. That’s how she ended up here, now. All alone in Jungkook’s home, helping him grade papers while eating Thai take away on a Friday night.
Jungkook has his bluetooth speaker playing music at a lower volume, sitting on the couch with papers spread out all around him. Netta is sitting on top of a pillow on the floor with her legs folded underneath her, twirling a set of red chopsticks between her fingers. She glances at Jungkook when he sighs and pushes his hair from his face for the nth time that night. Jeez, can he look any hotter? A familiar beat catches Netta’s ear, and she bites her lip as Jamie Fox’s voice fills the air. 
You know what, I'm ma make it do what it do baby,
I'm ma make it do what it do baby
Netta drops her chopsticks, and they fall to the floor, making Jungkook look away from the papers in front of him. “You good?”
“Huh?” Netta stares at Jungkook and tries to ignore the sexual words spilling from the speakers. Does Jungkook not hear what’s playing? “Y-yeah, I’m good. Just…yeah.” Netta turns her attention to the papers in front of her and squints at the black text. What does this even mean? It’s like she’s reading a different language all of a sudden.
“How many papers have you gone through?” Jungkook’s voice cuts through Netta’s foggy mind, and she can feel heat warm her face. Honestly? She hasn’t graded much; it’s kind of hard to focus when Jungkook’s scent is all around her; plus, the oversized smokey green denim shirt isn’t doing anything for her well being either. How can he wear something so simple and look so hot? It’s not even fair at this point in life. “Net?” Jungkook tilts his head to the side, and Netta quickly pulls herself together, ducking her head down as she bites her lower lip.
“I didn’t get much done.” Netta sees the frown pulling at Jungkook’s lips and swallows. “S-sorry Kookie.” Her voice is soft as she spots the chopsticks on the floor by her leg. “I-I need new chopsticks!” Netta jumps to her feet, and Jungkook’s jaw clenches.
“Sit down, Ms. Robbins!”
One second, Netta is standing, and the next, she is sitting on the edge of the love seat, the fallen chopsticks clutched tightly in her fist, staring at Jungkook with wide eyes. Jungkook sighs and takes his reading glasses off, setting them on the table before he sits up and runs his hand through his hair…five times, not that Netta is counting or anything. Jungkook tucks his hair behind his ears and inhales with a smack of his lips. He stares at the unmarked papers on the table before he turns his gaze to Netta, who refuses to meet his eyes.
Jungkook’s lips press into a line as his eyes flicker up to the ceiling, licking his lips as he tries to gather his thoughts together. He sniffles once and runs a hand through his hair once again, his bangs falling right back in place, framing his face. Netta risks a glance Jungkook’s way, and her breath catches in her throat as their eyes meet. Jungkook raises an eyebrow and presses his tongue against his cheek while Netta looks away. 
“Netta?” Jungkook calls her name softly, speaking just above a whisper as if anything louder would spook her.
“Y-yes?” Netta squeaks out, and she clears her throat. “Yes?” 
Those rumors about Netta having a crush on him may be true after all. Keeping that thought in mind, Jungkook nods his head and sighs. Jungkook smiles, his lip ring catching the light and forcing Netta to focus on his lips. “Is there something you want to tell me?”
“Huh? Tell you…what?” Netta fiddles with the bracelet on her wrist and starts to bounce her left leg as she tries to figure out Jungkook’s question.
He cracks a sly smile, “The rumors are true, huh?” He swipes through his hair once more, shaking his locks before he sits back in his chair. Netta has no thoughts, his arms are folded, and his legs spread. Her mind is empty as she stares at Jungkook’s massive thighs. Were they always so thick and inviting? Netta’s thighs press together subconsciously, and she shifts in her seat. Seeing her movement, Jungkook strikes. He uncrosses his arms and holds his hand out to Netta. “Come here, Netta.” Jungkook’s voice is magnetic, pulling Netta from her seat to stand between his legs.
Jungkook tilts his head back to get a better look at Netta’s face, “What’s going through that pretty head of yours, Ms. Robbins?” Jungkook slowly raises his arm and places a hand on Netta’s waist, keeping his eyes locked on her face. He doesn’t want to miss any signs of discomfort. “Humm?” Jungkook’s thumb slips under the hem of Netta’s shirt, and he forces himself not to look away from her face even though he wants to see the goosebumps that he feels on her bare skin. Wrapping his other hand around Netta’s wrist, Jungkook pulls her closer, and reaches out, her arms caging Jungkook on either side of the couch as she stops herself from falling on top of him.
“J-Jungkook!” Netta gasps, and Jungkook’s smile is wicked as he gazes at her.
“I’m not reading the room wrong, am I?” Jungkook questions as the rest of his hand slips underneath Netta’s shirt.
Netta opens her mouth, and no sound comes out. She bites her lip and closes her eyes, enjoying the feeling of Jungkook’s warm palm pressed against her side so softly. His hands are large, so very large, and his fingertips are calloused. Netta lets herself wonder how they would feel against more of her skin. Swallowing around the lump in her throat, Netta gathers whatever resolve she has and lowers herself onto Jungkook’s lap, her knees on either side of his left thigh.
Jungkook mutters something under his breath, and before Netta can question him, Jungkook cups the back of Netta’s neck and pulls her into a feverish kiss. Their lips mold together, their tongues taste each other, and Netta’s full weight falls into Jungkook’s lap, her legs refusing to support her any longer. Jungkook groans into the kiss, feeling the pleasurable weight settle sweetly on his upper thigh. The heat from between Netta’s legs seeps into the fabric of his jeans, and Jungkook squeezes Netta’s hip tightly. His lungs burn, but he fights the urge to breathe; he doesn’t want to part from such sweet lips. Jungkook never knew that peanut pad thai was so delicious.
Netta slides her hands from the back of the couch and tangles her fingers into Jungkook’s hair. The strands are silky soft, and when she accidentally tugs, Jungkook moans into her mouth. Netta pulls away from the kiss, a thin strand of saliva connects their lips, and she pushes at Jungkook’s chest as he chases her lips.
“W-Wait…Jungk-kook.” 
Jungkook hums and licks his lips as he inhales deeply. His heart is beating rapidly under Netta’s fingers as the rise and fall of his chest starts to slow. Jungkook’s eyes are wide and alert as he stares at Netta concerned. He cups her cheek in his hand and swipes the spit from her bottom with the pad of his thumb.
“Are you okay? D-Do you want to stop?”
“God, no!” Netta shakes her head, and Jungkook smiles, all bunny teeth and scrunched up nose. 
“What’s wrong?” Jungkook whispers as he bumps his nose against Netta’s, trying to kiss her lips again.
Netta firmly pushes at Jungkook’s chest and puts space between their bodies, “I don’t want to do this on your couch…we could ruin the paperwork.”
Jungkook glances over Netta’s shoulder at the piles of ungraded tests and the rainbow of markers scattered on the table and floor. Jungkook’s tongue darts out to play with his lip ring as he thinks over Netta’s words. His hands slowly trail to Netta’s buttocks, and his fingers tap out a random beat that matches the current song playing from the speakers.
“My bedroom is a mess,” Jungkook pouts, and Netta giggles as she plays with the necklace hanging at Jungkook’s throat.
“Jungkook, we work with a bunch of children. I doubt your room is any worse than theirs.”
Jungkook narrows his eyes and gives Netta’s butt a firm slap, making her yelp and jump in surprise.
“I don’t think I like your tone, Ms. Robbins.” Jungkook leans forward and nips at Netta’s jaw before he licks up the length of her neck to her ear. “Are you a messy girl? Is that why you won’t mind my room? Just gonna make it messier for me, yeah?” 
Jungkook’s words go right to Netta’s core and settle so deep that she can feel her walls clench around nothing. Empty. She suddenly is so self-aware of how long it has been since she last had sex with someone. Netta bites her lower lip, and a shiver crawls down her spine as Jungkook ghosts a gentle path of kisses from her ear to the corner of her lips.
“No, no, Ms. Robbins,” Jungkook easily pulls Netta’s bottom lip from between her teeth and soothes the tender flesh with his own lips. He licks at the bitten skin and sucks Netta’s lip into his mouth, his hands pressing firmly against Netta’s butt and she moans. Her hips start to move on their own, back and forth, over the meaty length of Jungkook’s thigh. Jungkook breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against hers, “That’s it, make a mess for me. I can’t wait to clean it all up.” Jungkook’s tongue is sinful as he licks back into Netta’s mouth. He leaves no space unexplored and slides his hands around a little to sink his fingers into the sides of Netta’s upper thighs. 
Jungkook pulls Netta down more onto his thigh, and he flexes, giving her something harder to grind against. A broken moan slips past Netta’s lips, and Jungkook swallows it whole, devours every sound that continues to spill from such sweet lips. Everything feels too hot; Netta’s nerve endings are on fire, and the coil in her stomach is wound too tight. Her panties are wet, embarrassingly so. So wet that Netta knows she has soaked through the fabric of her yellow jeans. She wonders if she has soaked Jungkook’s jeans as well. The blood rushing behind her ears becomes louder than her thoughts; all she can do is feel. 
There is a damp patch of skin that Jungkook keeps nipping and licking at; it’s right below her ear, and it’s driving her wild. Jungkook’s body is warm, firm, and strong under her hands. She wants to touch more than just his hands and face. Netta pants, her head lolls backward, and her eyes screwed shut as a warm wave of pleasure washes over her body. She whines, and Jungkook curses under his breath; he can feel the pulse from between Netta’s legs. He can see the wet mark she had made on his jeans and wants more. Jungkook grabs the back of Netta’s neck, mindful of the passion, twists in the way, and crashes their lips together.
“In my room, on my bed, now!” Jungkook pushes Netta away from him, and she scrambles to her feet, her legs wobbly and weak from her first orgasm of the night. “Second door on the left,” Jungkook informs Netta as he stares down at the wet patch on his thigh. He can see that Netta hasn’t moved, and he picks his head up with a raised eyebrow. 
“What-” Netta wraps her arms around herself and shifts her weight from foot to foot. 
Jungkook slowly stands from the couch and cups Netta’s face once more. He runs his thumb over the seam of her lips and tugs the bottom lightly, “What’s holding you back? We can stop if you would like.”
Netta looks down at her sock clad feet, and Jungkook gently grabs her chin between his thumb and index finger before he tilts Netta’s face upward.
“What is going through that mind of yours?”
Netta’s eyes well with tears, and her lower lip starts to quiver. Jungkook’s eyes widen, and he pulls Netta into a tight embrace as he wraps his arms around her.
“Hey, hey! It’s okay.” Jungkook smushes his cheek to the top of Netta’s head and rubs her back. “We don’t have to do anything; you don’t want to do Netta. We can even pretend that it never happened!”
“I-I’m s-sorry,” Netta cries into Jungkook’s shirt and shakes his head.
“What are you - no! You have nothing, and I mean nothing, to apologize for, Netta. Do you hear me?” Jungkook pulls away and bends a little at the knee to get a better look at Netta’s face. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you-”
“No! I-I liked it…I-I wanted it.” Netta fists Jungkook’s shirt in her hands, and Jungkook just stares. Why is Netta crying if he didn’t read the room wrong? “We work together, Jungkook.”
“Yes…is that a problem?” 
Netta pulls away from Jungkook and wipes at her face, embarrassed to be seen crying like this after she just ruined his jeans. 
“I can’t sleep with you, Jungkook.”
Jungkook licks his lips, and his tongue goes right to his lip ring, “Because we work together?” Jungkook questions slowly and carefully as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
Netta nods her head and links her fingers together as she speaks, “I just don’t want to make it awkward at work or anything…you know?”
Jungkook inhales and nods his head. Yeah. Okay. He can understand where Netta is coming from. Their work place was full of gossip, and he can understand why that would be off putting.
“I understand, Netta. I guess I misread the room, huh?” 
Netta shakes her head, and Jungkook frowns, “I really do like you, Jungkook,” Netta admits, and her face heats up. “I just can’t do a one night stand with a coworker.”
Jungkook repeats Netta’s words, “A one night stand?” Netta looks up and sees the amusement in Jungkook’s eyes. “I don’t think I was clear with my intentions, but that’s my own fault for doing things out of order.”
“What?” 
Jungkook pulls his hands from his pockets and grabs Netta’s hands gently between his. “I would like to date you, Ms. Robbins.”
Netta stares at Jungkook, face lost and adorable, making Jungkook giggle as he bops her nose with his finger.
“May I do that, Netta? Can I take you out? On a real date, officially?”
“Officially?” Netta parrots, and Jungkook motions towards the take away boxes. Netta quirks an eyebrow, and Jungkook’s ears heat up. “This was a date?”
“I-I had more planned!” Jungkook defends, and Netta laughs with a shake of her head.
“An official date would be lovely, Mr. Jeon.”
Jungkook’s whole face lights up, and he surges forward, capturing Netta’s lips with his own. The kiss is light and sweet, a clear way to show his true feelings. Netta rests her hands on Jungkook’s chest, and he nibbles at her lower lip, making Netta whine against his mouth.
“I have a spare bedroom…you can spend the night.” Jungkook whispers, and Netta sighs softly. “It has a lock that I don’t have the key to if that makes you feel better.”
Netta giggles and pecks Jungkook’s lips three times before she pulls away, “What would I sleep in?”
“I’m sure we could find something.”
“And if we don’t?” 
Jungkook grins and snakes his arms around Netta’s waist, his hand resting low on the small of her back. “The sheets are really soft, perfect to sleep nude.”
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Things at work are interesting. Netta and Jungkook are seen carpooling to work often, and they sit next to each other in the break room with their lunches. The Art teacher, Taehyung, is sure that the two of them are dating, while Seokjin, the Headmaster, is certain that they are in the beginning stages of a relationship. He likes to point out that Jungkook is more reserved around Netta; he isn’t touching her or making slick comments. He is very respectful, and Netta is the one that usually touches his hand. Hoseok, the Math teacher, doesn’t really care. He’s just happy that Jungkook has finally stopped talking his ear off about the new English teacher. 
Netta sits with Jimin, who teaches Social Studies, and Yoongi, the Science teacher. Everyone, students, teachers, and parents are  gathered outside for the teachers versus students kickball game. Namjoon, another PE teacher, is the referee for the match, and Netta giggles along with Jimin as all the moms drool over him. The teams are mixed with different grades from kindergarten to fifth, and the teachers were well rounded. Jungkook, Namjoon, and a handful of other teachers are together on a team and wear matching white mesh tops over their blue t-shirts. The kids wear yellow mesh tops over their shirts, and the school provided them with new cleats so that no one gets injured while playing.
Taehyung and Seokjin are the announcers for the game, and they are dressed for the part, both wearing black slacks with button up shirts and colorful ties. Taehyung has a yellow beret to match the children, and Seokjin, a white one to stand with the teachers. As the last of the parents and staff fill the bleachers, Seokjin announces the teams and Netta smiles. This is going to be a great game. Plus, Jungkook is looking right in those black sweatpants.
“You’re drooling,” Jimin teases as he nudges Netta with his elbow, and Yoongi rolls his eyes.
“Leave her alone, Min. You know she’s down bad for Jeon.”
“S-Shut up!” Netta whines as she clicks her tongue and pulls the hair band from her wrist. Keeping her eyes on the game, Netta pulls her twists into a low ponytail and folds her hand in her lap. “I’m watching everyone.”
“Sure you are,” Jimin giggles and links his arm with Netta’s. “So, when is loverboy taking you out on a date?” 
“I never said anything-”
“I overheard Jungkook asking Namjoon.”
Netta rolls her eyes and sighs, “We’re supposed to go out later tonight.”
“Where’s he taking you?” 
“Why do you want to know?” Yoongi cuts in, and Jimin glares at him from the other side of Netta. “Their love life has nothing to do with any of us. Leave ‘em alone.”
Netta laughs as Jimin pouts, and Yoongi rolls his eyes. “Thank you, Yoongi. But honestly, it’s not that big of a deal. I don’t know where we are going. Jungkook said he wanted to keep it a surprise.”
“How romantic!” Jimin gushes, and Netta turns her attention to Jungkook, who is now standing at the plate to kick.
“I guess it is…”
The students beat the teachers nine to five, and as their reward, Seokjin was going to host an ice cream party for everyone next Friday during the last class.
“Bye, Mr. Jeon!” A few students shout from their parent’s cars as they drive past, and Jungkook beeps his horn as he starts his engine. Right away, he puts the air on and sighs the moment the cool air hits his hot skin. He’s still sweating from running outside, and his heartbeat is slowly returning to normal. Jungkook pulls the sun visor down and looks at himself in the mirror; his hair is a mess, his face is sweaty, and his eyes are alive and bright. He wipes at his face and pushes his hair back quickly before he flips the sun visor back up and leans back in his seat. 
He is waiting for Netta to come out so that he can drop her off at her place. They have their first official date tonight, and Jungkook is determined to have a great time for Netta. Everything is planned out, and now all Jungkook has to do is get himself ready. A few minutes pass before Netta comes out of the school with her friend Jimin by her side. The two are talking about something that Jungkook can’t even begin to imagine, and he unlocks the doors for her. 
Jimin is ever the gentleman and opens the passenger door for Netta and shields her head as she lowers herself into the seat. Leaning against the door frame, Jimin looks at Jungkook and narrows his eyes.
“You better treat my bestie right, Jeon. I will kick your tall, muscular ass if you fuck this up!”
Jungkook huffs a laugh and nods his head, “Goodbye, Jimin.”
Jimin kisses Netta’s cheek and slams the door shut before heading to his car. Jungkook waits for Netta to buckle herself in and pulls out of his parking space. 
“You did really well today. I thought your team was going to win.”
“What kind of teachers would we be if we swept the floor with a bunch of little kids?” 
Netta laughs and nods her head in agreement. She is sure that the children would have been heartbroken if they had lost, especially with the promise of an ice cream party as the prize. 
“Well, I still think you kicked ass out there.”
“Yeah? We still lost the game…my ego is bruised.”
“Your poor ego.”
“Kiss it and make it better?” 
Netta glances over at Jungkook, and he smiles innocently.
“You’re a dork.” 
“I’m your dork,” Jungkook says with a wink before he turns his attention back to the road.
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Date night is beyond anything that Netta was able to imagine. She was under the impression that Jungkook was going to take her out to eat, and that was it, classy and simple. How wrong she was. Jungkook took Netta to an aquarium. The aquarium was something that Netta recalled telling him about over a late night phone call when Jungkook asked what was something she missed from her hometown. They explored the whole place, swam with the dolphins, pet the stingrays, and cuddled some otters and Jungkook won a large penguin plushie from a raffle that he entered. For dinner, Jungkook had placed an order for pickup at one of his favorite small family restaurants, and they ate their meal under the stars on a large blanket in the park.
It was a perfect date, and Jungkook suggested that they end the night with ice cream, to which Netta agreed. Ice cream sounded wonderful, and that’s how she ended up back at Jungkook’s home, once again sitting in his living room. They sit on the same couch and share a tub of ice cream between them, along with a few other treats, while One Piece plays on the tv.
“Nami is always hitting them,” Jungkook pouts, and Netta laughs.
“If they would act right, they wouldn’t get hit.”
“They are pirates! There is no acting right,” Jungkook argues, and Netta licks the spoon in her hand.
“Pirates or not pirates, they shouldn’t scream at each other all the time.”
“It’s entertaini-” 
“Shit! C-Cold!”
Jungkook’s brain freezes, and he stops talking mid-sentence as he watches the melted ice cream from Netta’s spoon drip onto her bare leg, her thigh that is exposed since she chose to wear a dress tonight. Netta drops her spoon into the tub of ice cream and quickly wipes her thigh with her middle finger, collecting the melted ice cream. She brings her finger to her mouth and licks the melted treat from her finger.
“Sorry, you were saying?” 
She turns her eyes back to Jungkook, and he is staring at her hard. Netta tilts her head, unsure why he looks so pained, and she follows his gaze to the smeared ice cream on her thigh.
“Jungkook?” Netta calls his name gently, and he doesn’t budge, so she unbends her leg and kicks out her foot. The tips of her toes graze Jungkook’s outer thigh, and he jumps from the sudden pressure against his leg. His large eyes find Netta’s, and she smiles while biting her lower lip. “See something you like?”
Jungkook’s eyes drop back to her thighs, and he grabs her ankle now that her foot is resting on his lap. The spoon in Jungkook’s hand slaps against the side of Netta’s calf, and she jumps from the coldness. 
“Sorry…” Jungkook’s voice is breathy as he slowly lifts Netta’s leg upward towards his face, “Let me get that for you.” His tongue peaks out of his mouth, and her breath catches in her throat as the warm wetness of his tongue sends goosebumps up her body. Jungkook’s tongue slides up, up, up. The splat of ice cream long gone as he moves higher, stopping at the side of Netta’s knee before he places a wet kiss on the skin. He lets her leg fall to his shoulder, the other still tucked under her butt, giving Jungkook a great view of the black and green panties underneath the dress.
“Not sure what I enjoy more-” Jungkook places the ice cream on the table and drops his spoon into the tub. “the ice cream or you.”
Netta releases the breath in her lungs as Jungkook devours her with his eyes and untucks her other leg from underneath her butt. “I don’t think you tasted me properly, Mr. Jeon.”
Jungkook’s eyes darken, and he quickly grabs her legs and throws them around his waist, “You might just be right, Ms. Robbins.” Jungkook lifts them both from the couch and supports Netta’s body by holding her ass in his hands. “Should we test our hypothesis?”
Netta fights the smile on her face, “Did we come up with one?”
“I hypothesize that you taste better than anything I’ve eaten today.”
“Just today?”
Jungkook smirks and clicks his tongue, “Let’s find out.”
Making his way through the apartment, Jungkook heads to his bedroom and toes open the door of his bedroom, thankful that he never fully closes it when he leaves. He steps inside and plops Netta down on the bed so that her legs hang off and drops to the floor on his knees. Jungkook places his hands on her knees and trails them up over her thighs, the fabric of her nude colored dress catching against his hands and bunching as he travels farther up. Jungkook licks and sucks at the exposed flesh of Netta’s thighs; her skin is salty and smells like cookie dough. Jungkook groans against her inner thigh and sinks his teeth into the soft skin. Netta whines, and her back arches as her hands tangle in Jungkook’s fluffy locks.
“Shhh, relax for me…I just want a taste.” Jungkook’s voice is gone, airy and light, as his hands tuck into the waistband of Netta’s panties, and he tugs them down. Netta removes her hands from Jungkook’s hair before she lifts her legs slightly and bends her right leg to make it easier for Jungkook to remove them. He just lets the panties hang from around her left ankle. The dress that Netta is wearing is now bunched completely up her waist, her lower half exposed to the cool air in Jungkook’s room, and she shivers when his warm breath glides over the wetness that is slowly leaking from her core.
“One taste...please, Ms. Robbins?”
Netta nods her head, and Jungkook stares at her with wide eyes, his lips parted slightly as his tongue plays with his lip ring. “Y-Yes…go ahead, Jungkook.” Netta’s heart pounds in her chest as Jungkook lowers his head, not once breaking eye contact. The warmth of his breath makes her shiver, and in that moment, Jungkook trails his tongue from her perineum and licks upwards to her sensitive nub, dipping the tip into her dripping slit teasingly. 
“O-Oh!” 
Spurred on by the soft pants of ‘ah, ah!’ and ‘s-shit’, Jungkook slurps up everything Netta offers. Like a peach, her juices coat his mouth and chin as he wraps his lips around the puffy bud between her legs. Netta’s back arches, and Jungkook moans against her, grinning as her thighs squish his head like a vice. His dark eyes are sparkling in delight as Netta threads her fingers through his silky locks and pushes his head down. Not waiting to leave his baby wanting for more, Jungkook manages to get his right hand between Netta’s legs and slips his middle finger inside of her dripping cunt.
“Oh, f-fuck!”
The stretch is very slight, not much, but the pressure is enough to make Netta’s legs quiver. Jungkook presses a messy kiss to her pussy and nips at the tender flesh of her inner thigh, “That’s it, baby. So fucking wet…mmm-” Jungkook hums as he licks his lips. “Best pussy I’ve ever eaten.” Jungkook’s voice is liquid gold, thick and warm as he presses his index finger in with his middle, and Netta’s whole body is shaking. “Close, Ms. Robbins?”
The air in Netta’s lungs is hardly there, and the words on the tip of her tongue come out as harsh pants of breath as she struggles to control herself. Jungkook’s fingers are long and thick around his knuckles. They press into her quickly, hitting that soft bundle repeatedly as he laps at every place he can taste. He can feel how her walls pulse around him, a silent beat that his body easily follows.
“Squeezing my fingers so tight…” Jungkook tries to wiggle his fingers, and Netta moans loudly.  He removes his fingers and nips at Netta’s right thigh, the flesh tender and damp with his spit. “Look at the mess you made,” Jungkook holds his hand up to show Netta the sticky clear strands of her arousal between his spread fingers and grins wickedly as Netta stares down at him through hazy, hooded lids.
“J-Jungkook!” Netta whines at the loss of his fingers and sinful mouth. She was in the throes of pleasure, at the highest peak, ready to plummet before he pulled it all away. Jungkook raises an eyebrow and nibbles at his lip ring. Shaking her head with a huff, Netta kicks at Jungkook to move from off the floor, and he crawls onto the bed. “Can you do something with that? Please?” Netta motions to Jungkook’s soiled hand, and Jungkook easily pops his fingers in his mouth with a lewd moan as he sucks her arousal from the digits. “Jungkook!” Netta squeaks in embarrassment and slaps at his chest.
He pulls his fingers from his mouth with a loud, wet pop, and Netta wishes she could hide under the covers. “Why are you acting shy now, hmm?” Jungkook wipes at his mouth and chin with the back of his wrist and pulls Netta into his arms. He nuzzles their noses together and grins. “Best pussy-”
“Shut up, Jeon!” Netta slaps her hand over his mouth, and Jungkook kisses her palm. Jungkook nips at her finger, and Netta giggles as Jungkook wipes his head back and forth playfully like a dog trying to escape its muzzle. Netta pulls her hand from his face, and Jungkook pecks her lips.
“Do you want to stop here?”
“But what about-”
“Aht, aht!” Jungkook shakes his head and grips Netta's chin lightly between his thumb and index finger. He tilts her face upwards and stares into her honey brown eyes. “I’ve gone to sleep with boners before. It’s not that big a deal. Do you want to stop here or keep going, Ms. Robbins?”
The urge to pee presses into Netta’s pelvis, and she bites her lip, “C-can I use the bathroom first?”
Jungkook laughs and kisses the tip of her nose, “Go. I’ll get everything ready here.”
Netta wiggles out of Jungkook’s arms and hurries out of his room, her panties now somewhere on his bedroom floor as she walks the rest of the way out of them. Jungkook lays in bed, his heart racing in his chest before he takes a deep breath and sits up. He runs a hand through his hair and strips out of his shirt, pants, and boxers. Not wanting to make Netta feel awkward, he reaches into his nightstand drawer and grabs a condom from the pack. He rips the foil, rolls it on over his dick, and settles under the blankets, exposing his chest.
From the floor, Jungkook’s phone rings from his pants pocket, and he groans. Glancing at the door, Jungkook chews at his piercing. It wouldn’t hurt just to check to see who is calling. Slipping out of bed, Jungkook grabs his pants from the floor and digs his phone from his pocket. He looks at the screen, and Netta’s smiling face is looking up at him. He glances at the door again before hurries out of the room and knocks on the bathroom door.
“Hey, you okay in there?” 
The sound of crying is muffled behind the door, and his phone goes off again. Netta is calling him again, so Jungkook answers. 
“What’s wrong? Why are you crying? D-Did I hurt you?” Jungkook’s voice raises with panic, and Netta sniffles a few times.
“I-I’m sorry, Jungkook. I-I wanted to do more b-but my period c-came and-” Netta bursts into tears on the other line, and Jungkook’s heart drops into his ass.
“No, no. It’s okay, Netta!” Jungkook reassures her. “D-Do you have anything with you? I’m sorry, I don’t have anything here.”
“I didn’t bring anything with me.”
“Just wait here, okay? I can ask my neighbor if she has anything for you to use so you aren’t stuck in the bathroom. I-Is that okay?”
“I’m sorry Jungkook-”
“Stop apologizing! It’s fine, Netta.” Jungkook walks away from the bathroom and heads to his room to throw his clothes back on. “Give me a few moments. Do you mind if she comes over? I can run to the store and grab whatever you need in that time.”
“You don’t have to-”
“Netta, stop. I’m dating you, and you’re dating me. That means we take care of each other, right?” Jungkook hurries to the front door and slips on a pair of shoes. “Right?” he asks again, and Netta makes sounds of agreement. “Right! So, act right, and let me take care of you.”
Netta’s laugh is watery and full of snot but it makes Jungkook’s heart race. 
“Thank you, Mr. Jeon.”
Jungkook grins and knocks on his neighbor's door, “You’re welcome, Ms. Robbins.”
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