#the moment Explode Yourself bc the emotions were overwhelming in the moment | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

seokjinsdisciple · 2 years

Text

between the pages

summary: you and namjoon had dated for a few years before life drew you apart. years later, you’re skyrocketed to the bestseller list as your first book gets released. and who’s book sits next to yours in the bestsellers display? namjoon’s does. will this be your second chance at a perfect love?

warnings: its very fluffy to be honest, theres probably language, all the poems are credited at the end of this post bc i cannot write poetry to save my life. so.. yeah

WC: 4k

UNEDITED SORRY

You hunched over your laptop, blanket covering your shoulders as your fingers typed furiously on the keyboard. You were so close to finishing your first novel, a romance. You were pretty proud of it if you were honest with yourself. It had taken you years. The only thing that had kept you going all of this time was the memories of your childhood sweetheart that you got to relive as your words danced across the page as you wrote.

“In the end, it was always you. It is only in your eyes that I can see my whole world.”

You smiled, clasping your hands over where Monie’s hands cupped your face. You were exhilarated, heart racing from your chest as he leaned down. The moment you had waited so long for was here, and as his lips gently touched yours, your world exploded into color.

You know you looked silly, a gremlin over your laptop with a grin that you couldn’t shake off of your face. You remembered that day like it was yesterday, the start of something so incredible between you and Namjoon.

Yours was a whirlwind romance, and it lasted from the beginning of junior year to the end of your sophomore year of college. There wasn’t any bad blood between the two of you, it was more of a right person, wrong time. You loved Namjoon, you still did. He taught you everything about love that mattered. His poetic words set your standards way too high, and his sweet nature didn’t help lower them.

Namjoon was the perfect lover. Always giving, thoughtful, intelligent and handsome. He was everything you could ever want. Hence why your writing centered so completely around him. Every short story, blurb, and even piece of information was inspired by him.

You sighed, letting the wave of bittersweet memories overwhelm your senses. You wrote a quick email to your editor, attaching the final chapters. Then you hit send.

1 YEAR LATER

You stood in front of your book, on display at your local bookstore, under a sign that read: “Newly Released Bestsellers.” Your book was one of many, but that didn’t matter to you at all.

Your hard work paid off, and your book sitting under this sign at your bookstore proved that. Your eyes wandered over to a book that sat right beside yours. Your heart stalled. There in large lettering in the front of the book read the name you had only allowed yourself to remember in your dreams. Kim Namjoon.

You found yourself picking up the book before you could stop yourself. Before you knew it, you were walking out of the bookstore with a copy of Namjoons book tucked under your arm. That night, you read the entire book in one sitting, unable to put it down.

When you reached the end, you had tears streaming down your face. He had written a beautiful love story. Your love story. You grabbed your phone, searching your contacts until you reached his number.

Your finger hovered over the call button, but you couldn’t do it.

It had been too long, and you were just feeling emotional. You couldn’t call him out of the blue like this. But you could stalk him. And you did.

You scoured the internet for anything that could tell you about him, his life, what he was up to. You just wanted to see who he had become. Obviously, you knew he was a writer, but the book he had written about you was one of many books. Unlike you, he had filled the past few years writing as many books as he could. It was no surprise that most of them were poems. He had always been so enamored with writing song lyrics, and they’re one in the same.

You spent a few hours stalking his social media, reading what poetry was posted online and collecting your thoughts. You hated the way you got excited at his relationship status being single, yet you couldn’t stop thinking about the memories you had created together.

“Namjoon!” you giggled, gently hitting his back as he threw you over his shoulder, “Put me down!”

“Don’t yell at me! I’m not the one who broke a glass and am walking around the kitchen with bare feet. I’m just keeping you safe, tulip.”

Your nose scrunched over his back at the use of the nickname. You thought it was corny, but Namjoon loved it. He always explained that tulips symbolized perfect love, so it was only fitting that he called you that. You never won that argument, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t make your heart skip a beat.

Namjoon walked you carefully through your shared apartment, the giggles you couldn’t control growing louder as he threw you gently on the bed. He trapped your body underneath his, pressing a gentle kiss to your nose before returning your smile.

“I think I have to make sure there isn’t a single scratch anywhere on your body,” he whispered, letting his gaze on you intensify until you couldn’t help but squirm.

You felt the ghost touch of his hands on your skin as you reminisced. Letting your fingers run through your hair, just like Namjoon used to do absent-mindedly while he read in the morning. Then you took a deep breath and pulled your laptop onto your lap. The only way you could get through these memories was to write them down.

So you did. Which is exactly how your second book got published.

–

Namjoon had ridden his bike to the bookstore, one of his favorites in town. He loved exploring the new titles that they highlighted, not to mention his writing got discovered at this very bookstore. They were known for selling self-published books of newer authors. After his second book had been published, he had gotten picked up by a publishing company, and his writing became his career.

When he stepped into the bookstore, the familiar ring of the bell above the door sounded. He lifted his hand in a friendly wave as the shop owner said hello from the checkout. Namjoon almost walked past the local bestsellers, until a name from the corner of his eyes made him stop dead in his tracks. It was your name.

He immediately picked the book up, looking through its synopsis and reviews. Your biography on the inner sleeve made him smile. Dimples fully on display, Namjoon took in his surroundings. His most recent book sat next to yours.

“Irene?” He called, holding the book tightly in his grip. “Has this author come in and talked to you yet?”

The shop owner made her way over, taking one glance at the name on the book he was holding before nodding.

“Oh yeah, she was here earlier this morning,” she spoke. Namjoon’s heart thudded in his chest. Had you stopped at the sight of his name just like he had yours. “She actually bought your book.”

Ignoring the knowing smirk from the owner, he grinned.

“Do you two know each other?” She had asked as he paid for your book, dumb grin still plastered on his face.

“Not anymore,” was all he said before walking out of the store towards his bike.

6 MONTHS LATER

This process had been quicker than the last, your book reaching bestseller status before the first week was done. You were proud that something you had poured your soul into the past couple of years had enamored the nation.

You were a little nervous about your book dedication, as you had already received so many questions about who it was about.

As you stood in Target, holding your own book, you flipped to that page.

“To a soulmate who was never meant to be. I love you always.”

It was a ridiculous thing to be nervous about, in fact, you knew that Namjoon would likely never read it. Let alone know it was about him. Although you doubted he could come to any other conclusion.

You were doing press for your new book, and every question seemed to circulate about who your book was dedicated to. You tried to avoid them as gracefully as possible, but it still caught you off guard every time.

“So, you know we would be remiss if we didn’t ask you what all your fans are wondering,” the talk show host started, smiling widely at you before continuing the question, “Who is your dedication about?”

You gave a short, albeit performative, laugh before answering her, “To be quite honest, I’m regretting putting that as the dedication to my book.”

This made the audience laugh, and you returned it with a short chuckle of your own.

“We are dying to know, if he was half of the man you're writing about, he’d be welcome in my house at any time,” the host joked.

“He is exactly like what I’ve written. In fact, I blame him for never having a relationship after him,” you laughed, cheeks warming at what you’d just revealed.

“Well I don’t blame you! If my husband acted like him, I’d never let him go. So why did you?”

“It’s a long story, really,” you answered, mind immediately thrown into memories of that day.

Namjoon closed the door to your apartment quietly, returning from his shift working at the college library later than usual. He figured you were still awake, after all it was finals week and the two of you had been swamped.

It came as no surprise that when he turned the corner into your living room, that you sat on the floor, papers scattered around you as if in some sort of summoning ritual. You were stressed out, he could tell from the way your face was scrunched in concentration. He sat quietly behind you, resting his head on your shoulder and pressing a kiss to your skin.

“We need to talk, tulip,” he sighed, hating the way your body tensed at his words.

“You got the job, didn’t you?” you whispered back, allowing your body to sink back into his.

“Yeah, I did. But I don’t need to take it,” he added, a spiteful laugh forming in you at his words.

“That’s absurd, Joon,” you sighed, “This is your dream job. I will not let you not take it.”

“I know.”

“Ok.”

“So what does that mean for us?” He spoke so quietly you were certain you could hear his heart breaking in his chest. You could definitely hear your own.

“You’re graduating early, moving across the country, we can’t stay together.”

“I know,” he sighed, holding you closer than before, “I love you, tulip.”

“I love you always,” you had replied, unable to hold back your tears.

And just like that, the perfect love you two shared was over. He had moved out the next day, not wanting you to be distracted from your final exams. Which was bullshit to be completely honest. That semester you got the worst final grades that you had ever gotten.

“It was just the right person at the wrong time,” you said, finally answering the host’s question.

–

Namjoon sat scrolling on his phone, not paying attention to the scenery as the bus passed stop after stop. He was, of course, on the way to the bookstore. He wanted to stop there before heading to his publishing house.

He walked casually into the bookstore, eyes immediately betraying him and shooting towards the new local bestsellers section. He didn’t expect you to have another book out so soon, but when he caught your name on the cover of a book he hadn’t seen before. Namjoon would be lying if he said he hadn’t kept up with your published works after reading your first book in one sitting.

It was so easy to read. The way you had crafted each sentence was so eloquent, and made him unable to put it down. It was so clearly about him, that while he had been reading it, he was transported right back to the early days of your relationships. He was so incredibly proud of you, your book had moved him. Plus he knew how hard you had studied in college. He could still see you sitting in the library.

Namjoon grinned as he walked over to where you sat at a round table in the campus library. He had just gotten off of work, and was coming to bother you while you attempted to finish writing a paper that was due the next day. Not that you wouldn’t welcome his distraction.

You grinned back at him as he held up two coffees. He pressed a quick kiss to the top of your head before placing one of the coffees in front of you.

“How’s it going, tulip?” he asked you as he sat down, hand immediately finding yours and fingers intertwining.

You looked so happy, giving his hand a squeeze before answering him.

“It’s ok,” you answered him, “but I wish I didn’t have to write this. I’d much rather start my book.”

“The one about us?” he asked, pleased at himself as his wiggling eyebrows got you to laugh.

“That very one,” you said.

He picked up your new book without a second thought, turning it over like he had done a few months ago and reading the synopsis. He didn’t know why he even bothered, knowing that he was going to walk out with it no matter what the back cover read. And that’s exactly what he did.

He made his way back to the station, waiting for the bus would be much more enjoyable now that he had your most recent work in his tote bag. He pulled your book out, eager to start reading. His heart stopped as he read the dedication page, mind going completely blank as he read those words over and over again.

You dedicated this book to him. He knew it for a fact. The last words you spoke to him right there on that page.

All of a sudden his mind swarmed with ideas. And when he made his way into the meeting with his publisher, the idea for his new book tumbled out of his mouth in hurried excitement.

6 MONTHS LATER

Your hands shook as you stared at the dedication page in front of you. The book you had open was Namjoon’s newest book of poetry. As much as you wanted to delve into the book and read his words, you couldn’t tear yourself away from the very first page.

“To my tulip, who is the only person who I can seem to write about. I assure you when this life ends, and the dust settles, I will find you in the next.”

He had seen your dedication page. He had to’ve. And yes, maybe it was stupid to respond to each other through dedication pages and books. Especially when you could just text him. But this was the two of you. Communicating in ways that others would be too impatient to follow through with.

You were impatient yourself, you had been waiting for Namjoon for far too long. But you wanted to keep this going. So you did the next best thing. You dedicated your next short story on your blog to him. But not before reading his poetry first.

His book was filled with poems about you. They were all about you. You dog-eared your favorite page. The poem on it resonates with you. It read:

“We met at the wrong time. That’s what I keep

telling myself anyway.

Maybe one day years from now,

we’ll meet in a coffee shop

in a faraway city somewhere

and we could give it

another shot.”

It inspired your response. The perfect start to your short story that, unshockingly, was about Namjoon. So you wrote back.

“Don’t wait until the next life. Maybe we could just get coffee, instead?”

It was all you wrote, and you hoped it was enough.

You also weren’t sure how to expect Namjoon’s reply. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t done your research. You knew Namjoon often posted poetry on his blog. It wasn’t far off to assume that he would respond there.

If he saw it at all. As days turned into weeks, you began to worry that you had assumed too much about him. He probably didn’t even know you had a blog. Maybe tulip was a name he called all of his girlfriends. Or maybe he thought your last response was too forward.

You checked his blog everyday. Every. Single. Day. There was nothing. No updates or stories or poems. Until he posted a one stanza poem.

“Always remember,

my heart holds you

when my arms cannot.”

You groaned to yourself. How could the person you love be so utterly clueless and annoying? The whole point of your last message was to meet up with him. To make sure that he could actually hold you in his arms. That idiotic brilliant man. He never ceases to amaze you. All that was left now was to determine what happened next.

–

Namjoon was proud of his book of poetry. His favorite part being his (at least what he considered to be a) well crafted dedication to you. The one he loves. The one he has always loved.

He was convinced that he’d have to wait for your next book to get published to read your reply. He was pleasantly surprised when he got a notification from your blog. You weren’t very active there, so he opened the notification quickly, curiosity outweighing the work he was supposed to be completing.

He could barely contain his grin as he read your short story. The whole time thinking about your dedication. This was perfect. He knew you’d play along with this game of back and forth. But now he knew just how hard it was to not text you. Now that the ball was in his court Namjoon felt the pressure.

He couldn’t decide what to do. Did he dedicate a whole book to you just to tell you he wanted you back? Did he write another poem? Did he just say fuck it and text you?

He really couldn’t decide what to do. By the time he had made a decision it had been weeks. He felt guilty at how long you had waited. Realizing that you might not even think he had seen your dedication.

He wrote the poem. And he started on his next book. He was going to make the best out of both worlds.

–

You have been writing to Namjoon in the dedication of your works for months now. Each response garnered only a vague poem back from him. You were annoyed. And you made sure he knew it too, your stories started to reflect your frustrations. And your readers were desperate to find out who exactly you were writing to.

It took them longer than you expected, to be honest. But they finally connected the dots. As you scrolled through a twitter thread explaining the dates of your releases compared to Namjoons, you couldn’t help but smile at both his and your readers coming together. Many of them found that you both attended the same high school and university. At least until Namjoon had graduated early. You could almost see the puzzle pieces click into place in your readers minds.

The best part is that Namjoon’s readers were just as frustrated as your fans, (and even yourself) and were starting to yell at him. Which thank god for, honestly. You were sick of waiting.

He had just released a new book, and you were trying to find the motivation to get off of your couch and go to the bookstore to buy it. He had made you wait months for an actual reply, so you had decided he could wait for you. And he would.

A few days had passed since the release, and as much as you didn’t want to leave the comfort of your couch, you were anxious to read his book. Not to mention your fans and his were tagging you non-stop in reference to his dedication page. So you stood up, got ready and made your way to the bookstore.

When you arrived, you made your way to the new releases section. Namjoon’s book prominently displayed front and center. You took a deep breath and swore on your life that if this dedication was something stupid you would call Namjoon and end this silly thing.

Ignoring the gaze of the nosy shop owner who you had come to know over the past two years, you flipped open to the dedication page. Your heart exploded in your chest. Of course he wouldn’t let you down.

“The bookstore. 10 AM on Tuesdays. Please be free.”

You internally cursed yourself. You had unintentionally stood him up this week. But you’d be damned if it happened again.

You made a note on your calendar and waited.

–

Namjoon waited patiently for you the first Tuesday after his book was released. His anxieties tripling at every welcome jingle of the bell that told him when the door opened. You didn’t show up.

Maybe you didn’t want to see him? Maybe you had been speaking about someone else, or maybe he hadn’t been clear enough about which bookstore. It was nonsense to think that this could’ve worked.

“She hasn’t bought it yet,” Irene said from beside him.

“Jesus, Irene. When did you get there?”

“I came to tell you that she hasn’t seen it after your 12th sigh and nonstop glances to the front door. You’re scaring my customers away.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Namjoon rolled his eyes, but his shoulders untensed in relief. You weren’t standing him up. You just didn’t know.

He would wait here in this bookstore all day everyday until he got the chance to set eyes on you again.

He spent the whole week thinking about how meeting you again would go. Would you want to kiss him? He didn’t know if he’d be able to keep his hands off you when you did meet. Still, he settled his heart with a hug. He’d wrap his arms around you and never let you go again.

He made his way to the bookstore Tuesday morning, he was early. He couldn’t wait any longer. He meandered around the bookstore, heart beating out of his chest as waited for you. What if you didn’t show up today? He should’ve asked Irene if you’ve gotten his book yet.

Namjoon was spinning on his heels to ask that very question when you saw him in between the shelves. The two of you made eye contact, and the whole world stopped. You mustered up all of your courage , calmed your nerves as best as you could and swallowed the lump in your throat.

“You should really stop writing about me,” you said, a grin growing on your face mirrored by his. The entire bookstore was tense, and you waited with bated breath for his reply.

“You first,” he grinned, showing off of his dimples.

And just like that the dam broke. The two of you nearly running to each other, to eliminate any space between you. In a second you were in his arms, lips meeting his desperately.

Kissing him felt right, and as he cupped your face, you pulled away. Breathless, he tugged you impossibly closer to him, noses almost touching as you stared up at him.

“Don’t ever leave me again,” you whispered, tears threatening to spill as you searched his eyes.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, thumb wiping the stray tear that had escaped from your cheek.

Looking up into his eyes, seeing nothing but truth glittering in them, your stomach exploded with butterflies. Because you knew he never would. He was yours, and you were his.

a/n: hope you enjoyed :)

AND THE POETRY IS: the first poem is written by an unknown author, the second poem is from a book called perry poetry written by bethany perry :)

#namjoon fanfic #namjoon x reader #namjoon fluff #namjoon angst #namjoon #rm x reader #rm fluff #rm fanfic #rm angst #bts fluff #bts angst #bts fanfic #bts reader insert #bts #rm

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wri0thesley · 3 years

Note

hi nat!! i noticed requests were open and remembered “randomlyncrying during/after sex” angst being mentioned and i just👀😳🙏

ive had personal experience with that (mostly bc being vulnerable and intimate is scary yet cathartic for me, its not even necessarily sad crying or happy crying its just Strong Emotions) and i was wondering if u could do some like smut to hurt/comfort kinda with that specific scenario please🤭 maybe with risotto or abba bc i just want to be fucked AND comforted by a big strong goth man!!😩🙏

overwhelming - risotto x reader (2k)

warnings: crying during sex. afab reader. neutral pronouns.

Everything about Risotto is overwhelming. The way he looks at you; the colours of his eyes. The low, gravel voice – the way he speaks only when he thinks he has something worth hearing. The touch of his hot, large hands on your skin – his width, his height, the knowledge of what he could do to you--

It’s even more overwhelming when you are beneath him in bed.

His body caging yours; the scarred, muscled chest and how it seems to heave in and out as he breathes. The scent of him – leather and iron and smoke – wrapping all around you, until he is everywhere. In your nose, in your mouth, his face flashing across your head as you pull him down into another kiss and he worries at your bottom lip, insistent and hot and needy.

Big hands run all over your form; taking his time to enjoy the way you feel, the curves and divots of your figure, the softness of you beneath his own calloused, work-weary hands. You feel like you fit into his grip perfectly – like you were made for him. You inhale sharply as his hands spread your legs apart, exposing the heated, slick valley of your sex to the warm air of the bedroom.

It always seems to be warm when Risotto is around. He kicks out heat merely by existing; and you cling to him in bed for it, grateful to be reminded of his presence.

“You’re so beautiful,” he dips his head to murmur, his voice deep and dark. Whenever he speaks, you feel a rush of desire go through you to pool at the apex of your thighs; there is something about the sonorous bass of his voice that makes your toes curl and that echoes through you, making you feel as though you are the only person in the world. “Look at yourself, tesoro.”

You do not see what he sees – but you do see the worship in his eyes. The hunger as he presses your legs further apart and leans into you, as you feel his hard cock press against your thigh insistently.

He is a careful man, despite his profession, and he knows that what he has between his thighs is too much for many people. He never sheaths himself inside of you straight away; even now, when you are fair pooling slick on his already messy sheets, one of his big hands is cupping your mound.

Calloused thumb rubbing over your clit, coaxing heat and sighs and little rocks of your hips. One large, lone finger – sliding inside of you, rubbing against your walls with the practise of a man who knows your body as intimately as he knows his own. Your head rolls back and you display your neck for him; vulnerable, and needy, and utterly his. He does not leave your neck unmarked – his lips are on you in moments, sucking love-bites, nipping bruises, his finger still pumping in and out of you.

Two fingers. You tangle your own grip into his silvery pale hair and pull his mouth to yours so that you may kiss him – he tastes like iron, always. You do not find it unpleasant; blood is a taste that you have grown to appreciate, because it reminds you of him. Three fingers, and you hear the wet squelch of your arousal, feel it dripping out of you with every rock of his hand. His thumb has stopped teasing your clit, but the rough heel of his hand is now continuing the onslaught of pleasure. With every thrust, it rubs against the swollen bud, and you feel your stomach begin to tie itself in knots.

He pulls them out of you with a slick gush, the hand formerly buried inside of you coming to lift your leg so he can slot his hips in between you. His fingers are dripping wet, but he has eyes for nothing but you beneath him. Rose-red irises meet your own, as if to ask you; ‘is this alright? Do you need me to stop?’

For an assassin – for a man feared around Italy, though they do not know his name – Risotto is never anything but gentlemanly with you. He asks your permission, holds you afterwards, kisses you and soothes you and murmurs your name filled with affection even when you are around the other members of your team.

“Special treatment,” some of them huff, rolling their eyes – but they shoot you sly smirks. They do not begrudge their capo his happiness – not in such a business as theirs.

“Risotto,” you breathe, looking up at him. “Please—”

The please is enough. Your other leg is lifted gently, hitched up so he can press your knees to your chest. You’ve had to experiment with positions plenty, in order to find things that are comfortable with Risotto’s height and his size and your own limitations – but this one always makes him seem to hit you deeper, further. His cock head pushes against the tight ring of your entrance, catching on you--

And his eyes meet yours as he begins to press himself inside of you. There is so much tenderness contained within them that you are almost lost for words. You would not think that eyes like that could make you feel so utterly adored – when you had first met Risotto, they had filled you with fear. Now, though, you look at them and you see all of the things that Risotto is too afraid to say out loud, contained within their multitudes.

He’s slow as he hilts himself, letting you feel the stretch of your walls around him. He’s always slow with you – like he’s afraid you will break. People who see him out and about, you know, never imagine how careful or tender he is.

Your head tips back again, into the pillow, as you see stars. He always fills you up. It’s indescribable, how right that he feels inside of you. You feel like he was made to slot inside of you – every time this happens, you don’t feel quite right until his heavy balls slap against your sex and he has bottomed out, filled you up, and the two of you are as connected as it is possible for two human beings to be.

Your breath catches as he pulls out, as he seeks to find a rhythm that works for both of you. In this position, you cannot quite get purchase on his shoulders – but Risotto sees to that himself, his big hands entangling and entwining with your fingers to press your held hands either side of your head.

The position is intimate, his eyes staying glued to yours even as he slips into a rhythm. His face is softer than you usually see it as he looks down at you; his sculpted lips tilted at the corners in a way that makes your breath feel like it doesn’t fit properly in your lungs.

You adore him so much.

Everything about him makes you feel like you are free-falling through a summer sky. You are, you’re sure, not supposed to be so deliriously happy with anybody, when you’re in a career such as your own. You should not be allowed to love him so freely and deeply – but the world has said you are. The world has dropped Risotto Nero into your lap in all of his occasionally awkward, stoic, handsome glory.

His hips flex in and out. He slides easily, through the slick glide of your sex – stoking up hunger and need, the tight little ball of tension inside of you that signifies your release. You hear the sound of him fucking you, the slap of him bottoming out, and you lose yourself entirely in the sensation of Risotto filling you up.

The world seems to fade into nothing but the place where the two of you are joined; nothing else important, aside from Risotto inside of and above you, his breath unsteady in his chest. The heat that’s gathering low in your belly, as he chases your release along with his own--

After his earlier ministrations, it’s no wonder that yours creeps up on you faster. Your ball of tension is the first one to take too much pressure, to be unable to do anything but explode into pieces – and it does so in a great rush that has you wailing, your mouth opening, as your mind seems to blank out into nothingness at the same time as every feeling in the entire world seems to hit you all in one go.

You’re crying?

You’re sobbing.

Your shoulders are shaking, your lip wobbling, your throat so dry that you can barely gasp air as it feels as though every emotion that you have ever experienced seems to come around to visit you again, the feeling entirely overwhelming. You can’t think. You can’t breathe--

Risotto’s eyes are wide and full of concern, blood and ink gone to uneasiness that this is all his fault. Your eyes are blurry with tears, but you see him open his mouth to speak nonetheless.

“Hey, hey--” his voice is quiet, through the haze of your tears, his hips stilling inside of you. “Tesoro, amore, cara mia--”

The pet names just make your bubbling sob get worse; your breath short. You don’t know what it is! You’re not upset, you’re not angry, you’re not even so happy that you can’t help yourself.

You’re just feeling so, so, so much.

“Risotto,” you breathe out, hiccuping, and your legs are gently dropped from your chest. “Risotto, I’m--”

“Please tell me if something’s wrong,” he murmurs, low and dark. “I’ll stop, I’ll do anything--”

“N-no,” you shake your head, aware that he is still buried inside of you – that your tears are stopping him reaching his full completion. “I-it’s not that—”

He pulls out, carefully, and you miss the feel of him inside of you like a physical ache, even though he is still on top of you. He reaches down and kisses your cheeks, chasing the tears away. A half-laugh bubbles up through the heaving of your chest and the tears clogging up your throat.

“Please tell me,” he repeats, again, all concern. His hands are still entangled with yours, as he leans down and puts his face very close to yours. If you stretched forward, just a little, you could rub your noses together, and the thought makes you smile despite yourself and despite the tear-tracks still drying on your face. “Amore, I promise I won’t be angry at you--”

“It’s just-- s-so much--” You say, eventually – lost for words, because how does one explain quite why they started crying with no real reason to? It had simply felt like everything had washed over you in one go, and your heart had not been able to handle it. Something about your orgasm had pushed forth all of your feelings, whether good or bad, and they had scrambled inside of your chest until all you could do was let tears roll down your face.

“I’m here,” he says, soft and slow. He lets go of your hands. Large arms wrap around you, pulling you up so you’re pressed against the broad expanse of your chest. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He’s so warm. Your cheek rests against him; hard muscle and scar tissue. You can hear the beating of his heart, and in the end it’s that – steady, constant, true – that makes the tears finally stop leaking down your face. Your breath calms.

A big hand comes up to stroke through your hair, reassuring.

“I’m always here for you,” he says. “Forever. Through anything.”

“I love you,” you say, all in a rush. You two avoid it; it’s hard to deal with constants when you’re in a business like Passione. ‘I love you’ is not in the vernacular of an assassin – but neither is ‘forever’, and Risotto had said it to you as casually as breathing--

“I love you too,” Risotto says. His voice does not quaver. He is certain and sure; as strong as the arms around you, the chest you’re pressed to, as strong as his convictions always are. He means it.

And you are so, so very glad that he does.

#writing #risotto x reader #risotto nero x reader #jjba #not sfw #afab reader #neutral pronouns #risotto nero #Anonymous

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mythiccheroacademia · 4 years

Note

Can you please do a fic where kirishima and kaminari turning into babies and reader have to take care of them but kaminari dont like reader for some strange reason and them resolved it🤩 sorry for bad English 😅

A/N: this was such a cute request! the characters as babies just makes my heart 😚🥰😍 I hope y’all enjoy this one! and your english is great btw!

Warnings: cuteness overload? and some cussing bc bakugo’s here. what do you expect?

Kirishima Eijirou:

when you woke up to bakugo banging on your door, you knew it was going to be a weird day

bakugo was notrious for being an early bird, but he usually kept that to himself. so why was he screaming outside your door at 6 in the freaking morning?

“y/n! you have ten seconds to open this fucking door before i—“

you swung the door open with the meanest glare you could muster, ready to cuss him out

“what the hell do you want—“

your voice catches in your throat when you see a sleeping black haired child, no older than two, curled up in his arms

you stare at the baby

then you stare at bakugo

bakugo stares back in confusion

then it clicks

“IT’S NOT MY FUCKING BABY!!” he explodes

“LANGUAGE BAKUGO!”

“STOP FUC--I MEAN FREAKING ASSUMING THINGS”

you didnt get a chance to respond before he shoves the baby in your arms and tells you it’s kirishima who got hit by a quirk during his internship

the teachers knew and left him with katsuki, but he couldnt take care of him today bc he had to go to his intership, and he didnt trust anyone else with the child

so that’s how you ended up alone with baby kiripima 🥺

you find out very quickly that kirishima was as energetic as ever, even as a baby

the minute he wakes up, he nearly jumps out of bed and declares to the entire room

“g’ mornin’!”

then he glomps you with the biggest hug

“y/n! we swol too-day!!”

you figured out that he knows who you are but that’s the extent to which he does

either way, he’s very excited to spend the day with you

he’s still extroverted even as a kid and loves being around his friends

when you took him around to meet everybody, he just gobbled up the attention. most importantly, he just loved your attention

he such a show off for you omg

he’ll be “ultra manly” and clean his mess all by himself

or when you try and help him wash his hands, he’ll stop you with a determined pout and go “i can do it!” and concentrate really hard on scrubbing his hands clean

when you’d praise him for eating all his food he’d give you the biggest shark-tooth smile and cutely blush from your words

he still kind of stumbled when he walked but whenever he saw something cool, he’d take your hand and basically drag you with him, excitment in his steps

and when you showed him the gym?

he was in L O V E 🤩

you may or may not have taken a couple pictures when you saw him attempt to lift a five pound weight

bath time is fun and easy bc he’s too busy pretending to be a shark to really think about the fact that he’s getting clean

when you tell him it’s bed time, he doesn’t wanna sleep at first. but then you make a sad face and he instantly drops what he’s doing and hurriedly says,

“okay! okay! i sleep! see!?”

goes and gets his blanket and curls up in your bed bc he’s the goodest boy and it’s unmanly to make a pretty person sad!

he looks so small and fluffy that you literally wanna bawl your eyes out

ahhh he’s just the cutest!!

you lie next to him and decide to take a nap too bc it’s been a long day

before you fall asleep, you feel the small boy nuzzle into your chest and wrap his arms around your neck

“night night. luh you,” he whispers before he starts to snore

like 🥺🥺🥺

you could seriosuly die happy

the next day, you wake up with a heavier arm around your shoulders. it’s so heavy that you can barely move and it confuses you

when you open your eyes, you see that kirishima has gone back to normal

and usually you’d be freaking out bc you may or may not have a small crush on him and now that he was normal sized, you were staunchly reminded of it

but when he pulls you in closer to his embrace, you can’t seem to care rn

for now, you’ll just enjoy this moment

Kaminari Denki:

“Y/N!! watch out!”

you were all kinds of confused when kaminari jumped in front of you to protect you from a villain’s quirk and he disappeared

and just when you were about to freak out, you heard small whimpers and cries

you looked to the ground and saw that kaminari hadnt disappeared

your best friend just turned into a freaking two year old child

and you dont think he likes you

at all

once you two were brought to safety, it was like denki finally took a good look at who was holding him and just

flipped shit

he gives you a firm (but cute) frown that makes you blink in confusion

then he suddenly pushes his hands against your chest to try and get away

“no! stop! i wanna go!”

at first, you thought he was scared so you attempted to soothe him but it’s no use

he’s admant on throwing his tiny temper tantrum

although, when recovery girl takes him to go get checked, he instantly calms down and smiles as she tells him how cute he his

you can’t say you didnt feel your heart break just a little 💔💔💔

but youre determined to win over his affection bc wth? you’re supposed to be best friends!

(read: you had a crush on older denki and you couldnt handle the fact that these might be his true feelings towards you and he might actually not like you)

so the entire day, you’re doing everything you can to make the kid at least acknowledge you

right now, it’s the bakusquad that’s collectively taking care of him for the day, but you’re there to help

you try to tell him jokes babies could understand and he’ll just look at you and turn away

mina told you that food was the best way to a guy’s heart so you made him his favorite (soft) food as a peace offering

and you were absolutely crushed when he stiffened up and refused to eat it until bakugo scared him into eating

he turns away and you just 💔😞

after that, you sighed and gave up

you sorrowfully accepted the fact that denki just didnt like you :(

at least you now know your chances of being with him was nonexistent

you made up some excuse to leave the room bc you coudlnt take the heartbreak

everyone pretty much bought into it

all except denki who might have been a child, but he was still as perceptive as ever

unbeknowest to you, denki didnt really dislike you

the reason he was acting like a jerk was bc you put yourself in danger during the mission and he was so angry about it

he didnt know how to confront these feelings so he just ignored you

but when he saw the silver tears line your eyes, he felt so bad 😭

he didn’t know how to emotion™️

pls don’t leave him :(((

the emotions overwhelmed him so much to the point that he bursted out in tears and wasn’t cosoled by anything

“come on, bro! what’s wrong!?” sero anxiously asked

“y/n! i want y/n!”

he didnt have to say it twice

the group basically shove him in your arms and youre confused when denki latches onto you like a life line bc did he just hate you three seconds ago?

despite your saddness, you comfort him by whispering sweet nothings in his ear and denki is instaneously consoled solely by your voice

the crying takes a lot of energy from him and he can barely keep his eyes open

but before he sleeps, he softly says, “i wa’ scare-d. sowwy y/n”

again, you’re confused, but you were too tired to think about it so you decide to go to bed and deal with this tomorrow

it’s the next day and your face-to-face with a normal kaminari who’s obviously been awake for some time and looks petrified

now that he’s older, you’re reminded of everything he put you through and you’re salty af about it

“you still hate me?” you sassily say

denki’s face erupts in an embarrassed blush and youre surprised when he buries his head in your neck, holding you close to his chest

without looking at you, he explains his true feelings for you in a really round about way

you pull his face back to look at him and as he sputters out apologies to you, you kiss is nose

“you idiot. i like you too if that’s what you’re trying to say.”

denki stares before short-circuting and you just laugh as he mumbles happily to himself

#Kirishima Eijirou #kirishima x reader #Kaminari Denki #bnha kaminari #kaminari x reader #bnha headcanons #mha headcanons #bnha scenarios #mha scenarios #bnha babbies #mha kids

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anotheranimestan · 4 years

Note

Heyooo I legit just found u bc of the bakugo series, and then I went on a spree reading your account- ugh I’m in love!!! Do you think you could tag me when part 3 comes out?

Ahhh! Thank you so much! ❤️ You guys have no idea how much a few words of encouragement means to writers 😭.

No need to tag tho because here it is!!!!! 😃

Sorry it took so long. I wanted to write it as best as I could! I don’t want disappoint anyone who’s been enjoying so far. ☺️

All Bark No Bite (pt. 3)

(Final part)

Bakugo angst + ~sexual tensionnn~

Please, children avert your eyes. Things get a LITTLE inappropriate here 😳

Read part 1 and part 2

wc: 2.4k

He’s an asshole...but he’s a HOT asshole 🤤

You’d never seen his room before. It was much different than you’d imagined. You’d expected burn marks all over the walls or blown up debris of things scattered about. Maybe a bunch of mirrors so he could look at his self-confident, conceited ass all night. But actually it was kinda of nice. Pretty neat. He had some posters hung up and some books laying around. Black sheets and blankets. And it smelled oddly sweet in here, sort of pleasant believe it or not.

You’re so used to him yelling and exploding so it was weird seeing him so relaxed, in his natural habitat. Doing normal things. Like eating a snack, tapping his pencil in concentration, fidgeting with his hair. He even spun around in his rolling chair a few times mindlessly. He was acting sort of...cute? It was unnerving being attracted to him like this.

But as soon as he noticed you watching him it was all over. You were making him self conscious. He didn’t even realize he’d let his guard down like that.

“That makes absolutely no sense, dumbass.” His voice was bored and over it.

“What are you talking about!? I’ve explained it three times!” You retorted indignantly.

“Exactly. I thought you were smarter than this...” He jabbed before turning around and flipping his notebook shut.

You’d spent twenty minutes attempting to teach him what he’d missed in class earlier today but he was insufferable. Easily the worst student on the planet. Every time you explained something he’d tell you how to teach it better. Who does that!?

“Whatever moron. I didn’t come up here to try and teach your pea brain. I—“ The words were harder to say than you’d expected. Painful actually. They really didn’t want to come out. “I just wanted to say sorry for getting you—“

He whipped a pencil and it hit you directly in the forehead.

“Ouch, what the fuck?” You hissed, rubbing the sore spot. How’d he get so much damn power behind that thing?

“Don’t apologize. It’s weird.”

“What!?” You threw the pencil back but only managed to hit his shoulder.

“Anyways...” He ignored you, completely unfazed by your assault.

“You’re easily the most—“

“Anyways...” You swore if he cut you off one more time you were going to smack the shit out of him. “Aizawa thinks you’ve lost your mind.”

The unexpected information took you aback.

“He saw you try and get yourself blown up in class yesterday... No sane person is stupid enough to pull a move like you did.”

Ah yes... he meant the time you wrapped the man’s hand around your neck, tauntingly, in front of like 20 classmates and two teachers. You’d been trying to avoid asking yourself the question of why you did that. You claimed it was the best way to shut him up....but there were other ways to do that. More reasonable ones. You wouldn’t admit you’d daydreamed of doing it before and subconsciously took the opportunity. Red embarrassment flashed through your body again. God knows what they were all thinking when they witnessed that. You desperately wished people would stop reminding you.

Suddenly the need to defend yourself bubbled up. “I—I only did that because I knew you wouldn’t do anything.”

He scoffed. But didn’t deny it. “If you’re going to try something stupid. At least do it right.” He chastised.

Your body froze as he stood up and walked over, crouching down directly in front of you.

“If I wanted to choke you. I’d do it like this.”

He wrapped his hand around your neck. Demonstrating the best way to actually cut off someone’s air flow. But he did it so gently you barely even heard his explanation. You were just flashing back to last night. Instantly your entire body lit on fire. Replaying this scene in your head was strong enough. But reenacting had you completely out of sorts. Kissing him again but this time going full out. You wanted to bite him, just to hear him make that deep moan into your mouth again. Just imagining it was making you flutter. Aching to have him pressed up against you like that, relieving some of this pressure that was building up in your body. You felt yourself unraveling. About to pounce.

But he interjected with something that stunned you once again. “The way you did it would be better for...other forms of choking.”

Dear god. Surely he knew what he was doing to you. If he kept this up any longer your heart or your lungs were definitely going to give out.

But you mustered up your last two brain cells that weren’t absolutely losing their shit over him and carried on with your normal banter.

“Yea yea, I get it. You can stop now.”

He didn’t budge. His hand still snug around your throat. You obviously didn’t mind it there but it was incapacitating your brain function.

You gently pushed it away and he didn’t resist. But where he put it next was no better.

He traced the side of your cheek and along the outline of your lips. Just staring at them, eyes lost like he was thinking deeply about something. He wasn’t giving you a moment of a break. No room to breathe.

Your nerves were through the roof, your heart was beating so loud you could hear it in your ears. Desperately you tried to change the topic. “So is this your attempt at being nice? Advice on how to murder someone?” It’s amazing how your mouth just spewed shit out even though your brain was actually dead.

“Sure.” Now he was tugging at your bottom lip. Completely unbothered by you baiting him.

“Ah. A nice Bakugo? I must be having a dream. I guess now that you’ve lost to me your whole tough guy persona has been killed.”

That snapped him out of it. But now he was looking just as intensely, directly into your eyes.

“Don’t push it.”

“Or what?” Faking composure was coming so easily much to your relief.

“Do you want to find out?” He growled.

“You’re not scary.” You said rolling your eyes as hard as possible.

Something snapped in him. He couldn’t hold himself back anymore. Within a moment he had you on your back. Your body didn’t even have time to process. Even if it did, would you have stopped him? He trapped both your wrists on either side of your head and your feet under his ankles. His arms looked glorious as he held up is body weight.

“How about now?” His voice was deep and savory.

There he went. Invading your mind again. His scent. That lust-filled look in his eyes. The way he was thoroughly enjoying being on top of you. The adrenaline was coiling through your body. He had you right where he wanted you. He could do anything he wanted to you. But that “annoying little mouth of yours” wasn’t done quite yet.

“Whatever. You always do this. But you won’t actually try anything.”

“You think I wouldn’t hurt you at all? I literally want to kill you sometimes.” He had a smug little grin on his face. But his eyes couldn’t pull themselves from your lips. After experiencing them once he could barely stop thinking about them.

“You’re telling me? I fucking hate you.” You lied.

It made his smirk form into that wicked, shit-eating grin he always wore. The one that gets deep under your skin and makes you want to punch him in the throat and yank him onto you at the same time.

“Kissing someone is a weird way to tell them you hate them.” He was really cutting into you now.

You hissed. “Hey. You kissed me.”

“You kissed me back.” He raised an annoying little eyebrow.

Your brain wanted to choke him (the murder kind) but your body was screaming something completely different. The emotions swirling around in your chest was so overwhelming. Finally you burst.

You trapped one of his arms and corresponding leg and threw your weight to roll on top of him. One of your favorite moves from self-defense class that you knew would come in handy. Now you straddled him and using every ounce of your weight tried to pin his wrists down.

You expected him to fight you like the vicious little monster he is. But instead when you looked down he was just staring back at you. You were stunned at how good he looked at this angle. Did he have any bad angles?

“Finally. You made a move.” He said pretending to sound impressed. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Yea well...” You scoffed proudly. “you think you’re so fucking tough. Now looo—“

The words flew out of your mouth and you were tumbling again. This time he just grabbed your waist and tugged you with brute force. No technique needed. He easily overpowered you.

“Yea, that wasn’t going to work out. It was a cute try though, Little Bite.”

He laid directly on top of you now. Your legs spread as he rested his hips between them. His full weight pressed into you making it flutter. Your arms had somehow wrapped themselves around his neck and rested on his back.

The tension in the air made it difficult to breathe. But you were fully unconcerned with getting oxygen right now.

Nose to nose now he said “We’ll just count this as my rematch. Clearly I won.”

“You suck at flirting.”

Flirting? Where’d that come from?

“Seems like it’s working pretty good to me.”

That smug fucking face again.

“You’re such an ass.”

He bit his lip.

“Fuck...I love when you insult me like that.”

A beat passed and that was all it took. You smashed his lips onto yours. Wrapping your legs around him and squeezing. Too close wasn’t close enough.

He kissed you like he wanted you bad. Like you were his favorite meal and he was absolutely famished. It was so intense and passionate that neither of you could catch any air. Every insult, all the bickering, every jab had built up to this moment and was fueling it like gas to a forest fire.

His warmth was overtaking you. His body was so heavy, crushing you just liked you’d been daydreaming about all this time.

Your mind shut down all functions except desperately trying to use all five senses to their max capacity and commit every bit of him to memory.

He felt you pawing at the edge of his shirt and sat up. He peeled it off slowly. Letting your eyes adjust to every inch of him.

Your hands were instantly stroking every one of his muscles starting at his shoulders and trailing down his soft skin slowly...slowly to the edge of his jeans. Your index finger sat teasingly on the front button as you admired his perfectly toned body.

But before you even had time to think about what you wanted to do next he took your wrist and secured it down above your head again.

He dipped down and went straight for your neck.

Greeting it with a warm wet kiss from his tongue, his lips wrapped around your skin and sucked gently. You felt the blood pooled with pleasure rushing to the area. His other hand started exploring your body. Finally he was getting to put his hands on you the way he really wanted all along.

After you started tugging on his hair, desperately trying to avoid any scandalous hickeys he rolled you around again.

Letting you on top to straddle his hips. Giving you only a little bit of freedom though, as he locked one arm around your waist and the other started caressing your thighs slowly working his way north.

After squeezing your ass until his heart was content he clamped down both hands on your hips. You couldn’t bare it anymore. Your hips started gently grinding against him and you bit down on his neck all at once. You felt the angle of his pelvis rubbing into you creating little rumbles of pleasure.

“Fuck y/n..” he muttered under his breath.

You both were getting more and more bothered and aroused. His hands never stopped grabbing and tugging at you. His moans growing more fervent as he whispered into your ear.

He was just toying with the idea of peeling off your shirt when...

“THIS IS THE POLICE! COME OUT!”

Your soul practically rose out of your body as a loud bang almost broke the door down. Bakugo’s hand slapped over your mouth. You’d screamed without realizing it.

Kaminari’s laugh sounded through the door. “Oh my god Bakugo! You scream like a girl!”

Mina shrieked. “No, stupid! Y/n are you in there!?”

Your life was ending.

“Get the fuck out of here before I come out there and break your skulls!” Bakugo barked at them.

They didn’t say anything but you heard their quick footsteps as they ran down the hall still shrieking like banshees.

“Oh god..” you groaned as you tried to roll away from him, using his bare chest to push off.

But he wouldn’t let you go. “Where are you going?”

“Aren’t you going to go hunt them down and threaten them or something.” Typical Bakugo behavior.

“No, I’m busy.”

You had to stop your mouth from falling open.

“They’re probably going to tell everyone.” You prodded. Expecting his temper any second now. Like he was a bomb about to go off. You pulled away again in preparation, sitting fully upright now.

“I’ll deal with them tomorrow. I’m dealing with you tonight. Now get back over here before I get mad.”

You shrieked as he muscled you back into his arms. He bent you back around him as snugly as he could. Moving your chin to the side, he kissed your neck, sweeter this time. Instinctively your hands ran through his hair. Fuck the rest of them. You could get lost in this hot head all night. And you were as he started gently sucking on your soft spots again.

But he pulled away abruptly. Like he’d just realized something. “How are you gonna become a pro hero if a moron like Denki can scare you like that?”

You smacked the back of your idiot’s head lightly. “Don’t fucking ruin it.” You groaned.

“Fine.” He grinned as he went in for the kiss that started the rest your next piping hot and sticky couple of hours together.

~💥💥

TADAAA! What did you guys think?? What was your favorite part overall?

I’d love hearing your thoughts and opinions 😃 makes me a better writer

Also special shout-out to @jennammaee ! Pt. 2 of this series has been my most successful post yet, so thanks for encouraging me to write it!!

Tags: @sweetsailor000 @yumxmii @fullsundear @frosted-flakes @marloalmore @aprilbouz01 @deneuves @softestparker @davidbowiehotashell-blog @mocha-focha @piii-chan @v0dkadaddy @xxjosiexx

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queerrobin · 3 years

Note

Hi 💕💕 I'm recently into one piece too and I'm enjoying it a lot. Could I request for Zoro with s/o who's really sweet and polite, but she handles a lot of emotions and doesn't want to disturb anyone, and have a sudden breakdown because of it. Sorry if it's too specific idk how to express the idea 🥺 I'm looking forward to see your writing 💕 thank uuu

hi! first off, i am very sorry that it took so long for me to get this out but this last weekend was so much busier than i expected! second off, this is my first time writing for zoro and i am VERY excited because he’s easily my favorite one piece character so far! i really hope i did him justice <3

as i’m just starting writing for one piece and i’ve never written for an anime before, i’m open to any and all constructive criticism but pls don’t be mean bc i am truly so sorry if this sucks

-you were a people pleaser by nature. you wanted everyone to be happy all the time, even if it meant sacrificing taking care of yourself to take care of them.

-zoro had known that about you pretty much from the moment he met you. truthfully, he loved how much you cared for other people, but he also worried that you weren’t taking care of yourself in your attempts to make sure everyone else was okay

-he knew you tended to bottle up everything so as not to disrupt anyone else’s day by talking to them about it

-he desperately wanted to help you, but he wasn’t totally sure how to. he would hold you at night and assure you that he was there to help you like you help everyone else, but this is who you had always been and it wasn’t easy to change it.

-at this particular point in time, it felt like everyone around you was having some very strong emotions. anger, sadness, fear -- whatever it was, they were all struggling and, as always, you ended up being the comfort for everyone.

-(you had this natural calming, nurturing vibe about you that just made people want to turn to you when things got hard, and you really didn’t mind it usually, but things were getting really hard right now.)

-nami was venting to you about something or another. you tried really hard to listen, but your head was starting to pound with the stress of having everyone’s burdens on your shoulders, and it was getting hard for you to follow the intricacies of her story. all you could do was nod and give some quiet verbal acknowledgements to encourage her to keep talking, but if she had asked you a question, you were so fucked because you weren’t tracking with her

-once she finally finished venting, she hugged you, and then left because luffy and usopp were causing a commotion out on the deck, leaving you down below deck sitting with your head in your hands

-it was getting dark outside, and your head hurt, and you were so overwhelmed with everything. you considered getting zoro because really all you needed was someone to come sit with you for a minute, but he was in the middle of his training and you didn’t want to interrupt him (despite the fact that he’d told you countless times before that he didn’t mind you interrupting him if you needed him)

-so instead, you sat for you don’t know how long, trying to gather yourself when really you felt like you were going to explode if you didn’t somehow let some of this out. the emotions were flooding you, and you needed some outlet or else you were going to drown in it. you just knew it.

-before you could think about that anymore, zoro finally came looking for you.

-”(y/n?)” he asked as he walked in, shutting the door behind him quietly once he saw you there. you didn’t even look up at him as he walked in, and you definitely didn’t speak. if you did, you would start crying, so you kept your jaw clenched tight

-he came and kneeled down in front of you in an effort to get you to look at him, taking your hands into his. he was still sweaty and shirtless from his workout, but it didn’t bother you any. “(y/n),” he repeated, and you finally glanced at him just long enough to see the worried look on his face, then you squeezed your eyes shut

-”don’t look at me like that,” you mumbled. after you spoke, you sniffled once, still trying your hardest to keep it all in. you didn’t want to break down now. that wasn’t who you were. you were the strong one who was there for everyone else, not the one who cried alone.

“what’s going on?” he asked, still not looking away from you. you shook your head. “are you okay?” he asked, and -- of course -- that was what did it. you didn’t even have it in you to answer. all you could do was cry.

-you weren’t totally sure how that one question could send you over the edge so easily, but it did. you sobbed hard, harder than you had in far too long.

-zoro didn’t hesitate to pull you into his arms, moving so that he was sitting on the bed and he could pull you into his lap to hold you better as you cried into his shoulder. he didn’t say anything, just rubbed his hand up and down your back and let you cry until you couldn’t cry anymore.

-then, once your tears stopped, he leaned back just a little until he could look at you and wipe away the last of them.

-you told him everything then, about how you’d gotten overwhelmed with everyone else’s burdens piling up along with your own negative feelings, and he listened to it all.

-after that night, he promised himself (and you, though he’d never actually said it out loud) that he wouldn’t let you get to that point again

-he started making more of an effort to make sure you were being taken care of. where you slacked, he would pick up. he wasn’t good with words, but he made it a point to show you every day that you weren’t in this alone and that you had someone in your corner with him

-long story short, zoro loves you very much and wishes you would take good care of yourself because yes, life is hard and feelings are A Lot, but you’re not alone <3

#i am also v sorry if the tenses get weird along the way bc i was writing this while i was doing macroeconomics so i did my best lmao #i rlly hope this isn't as terrible as i think it is #zoro x reader #zoro roronoa x reader #one piece x reader #mine

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mysmegrace · 3 years

Note

hey love, how are you? i was wondering if you could do mc (any gender) and 707 going on a dinner date:)

hello love, i'm excellent (bc of u). of course i can, anything for you :3 i've decided to use they/them pronouns in this fic so it's easier for people to insert their own pronouns and gendered language as well as it being applicable to more people yknow. anyway i hope i did this justice <3

summary: saeyoung and mc got out to dinner to end the day. unbeknown to mc, saeyoung has a surprise to ask you.

words: 1.8k

Elly The Fourth (707 x MC)

---

you knew saeyoung had a tendency of being late, sometimes he’d even push it to the 15-20 minute mark. you vividly remember telling him about it in the past, but you two always came to an agreement. after all, you couldn’t stay mad when he’d grab the cat ears he had laying around, putting them on while puckering his lips to express false innocence.

however, he had failed to hold up your previous agreement of “if you are to be late, let me know beforehand”. passing a new number on the clock every time you looked up, the restaurant continued to populate with no sign of the man you longed for. boy would you let him have it this time.

you needed something new as a form of punishment. something that would make him stick to your agreements. maybe the silent treatment, or perhaps you’d whip him with the belt he spent a ridiculous amount of money on? “wait no... that wouldn’t end well on my end” you thought as your memories reminded you of his sadistic nature.

while trying to come to a consensus, the vermillion haired man entered the establishment. showing off his typical goofy, yet tender, smile as he eyed your sitting position down. you could hear the clicking of his shoes coming closer, but paid no attention as you had heard that the entire evening from strangers surrounding you.

“boo!” you hear suddenly, almost springing out of your seat, partially convinced your heart would jump out of your chest for a split second. however you had no time to take in sudden scare as your body instantly started to heat up. he arrived 25 minutes late and has the audacity to make his grand entrance by frightening you?

being met with silence on his end, he decides to quickly break the tension. “sorry i’m late, it was an accident” he says, only telling half of the truth. it was an accident in the fact that he was late and didn’t intend on being, but wasn’t an accident in the sense that he knew what he was doing beforehand.

however, he would keep that a secret until the time was right. surprises are better if they’re unexpected after all. snapping out of his thoughts, he noticed how your lips haven’t dared to move in the few minutes he’s been here. trying to come up with ways to lighten the mood while getting a response from you, he says “i’m really sorry. please forgive me and talk to me. it was for a good reason, i promise. you’ll find out soon enough”.

watching as your eyes softened and your posture lightened exactly when he was now eye level with you, he takes it as a sign to continue on with the original plan. only hoping your body language was from you being convinced by his words rather than because of your growing disappointment towards him. going to take the seat across from you, you answer “saeyoung, we’ve talked about this. why were you so late?”.

“babe, i can’t tell you yet. it’s a secret, please understand. let’s enjoy what i have planned for now and we can talk about it later, please?” he answered quickly, not giving a moment for him to accidently spill the beans. after a few seconds, he saw the look on your face as you decided to give into his proposal and make amends later.

for the next hour, tonight would strictly be about you two. he loves nothing more. once you give your verbal agreement, he gives back a small smile. one that reads of gratitude. calling the waiter over, you both receive your menus.

the food all looked so good, but it wasn’t something he’d want everyday. that kind of taste isn’t much appealing to him. after all, he only chose the restaurant because of your open wish to eat there one day. hence why in classic saeyoung style, he decided on honey garlic chicken wings. commoner food, as jumin would say. honey garlic chicken wings, honey buddha chips, close enough.

on the contrary, you were in awe at the food selection. as long as you ate a few things off the menu, you could die happy. yet shock consumed you when your eyes glided across to check out the price. it was incredibly expensive. guilt started eating you up by the second.

you couldn’t ask him to get you something, it was simply too much. your conscience wouldn’t let you. unbeknownst to you, saeyoung noticed your sudden distress. he could read you like the back of his hand. “what’s the matter?” he asked.

taken aback, you responded “well.. everythings so expensive.” you had tried to mask your emotions in the moment, but to no avail. you should’ve known better than to think your love wouldn’t have his eyes on you 24/7.

saeyoung could sense that was the issue. you had always been hesistant about spending other peoples money, however that just made him love you more. attempting to calm your worries, he says “don’t worry about it. you know i get paid well”.

you paused, thinking about his statement. “i know, but you should put that money towards savings. after all your work is illegal” you respond, after giving it a half-assed thought. your eyes peered up to find the love of your life smirking, just before replying “pshh, laws are just words on a paper”.

you had to admit, that was a playful thing for him to say. so far he had succeeded in his plans of lightening the mood, it being confirmed when you returned his reply with a giggle. god he loved hearing that giggle.

calling the waiter over again, you two placed your orders. meaning now you both were participating in the waiting game. in saeyoung’s mind, this was a perfect opportunity. he would have at least 20 minutes to explain everything he had been planning to.

so, he starts to go for it. opening by saying “so, about why i was late earlier.” now he had your full attention as you were dying to hear his reasoning so you could decide whether or not an ass whooping would be an acceptable punishment for this evenings occurrence.

“i had booked an appointment to sign some paperwork, but the appointment got moved 30 minutes. i didn’t have a choice but to leave you waiting. and i was too caught up in the moment to let you know beforehand” he continued, giving you a second to take in his words.

yet your mind began racing with questions. what paperwork? why did he need an appointment? why would he plan it for today? you left no time to waste before you let the questions out, not wanting to waste a single second.

perfect, he thought. you were going along with what he had planned out to happen beforehand. giving you your much deserved answers, he continues “well, i needed to do it today so i could give you a proper surprise. i never want you to be in any unnecessary stress, hence why i did everything in advance.”

he left you hanging for no more than a second. he loved being able to see the face you made while you were practically on the edge of your seat. he also loved the dramatic effect, the one he’d never be able to nail unless he were an experience actor. nevertheless, it was fun to try.

so to finish his statement, he lets the secret free, exclaiming “since we both have an undying love for cats, i’ve decided to adopt one. we pick her up tomorrow” giving a genuine, ever so loving, smile at the end of the long awaited sentence.

focused on your end of the table, his heart nearly exploded seeing your face go from suspense to pure joy. he couldn’t ask for anything more. you had began to let out an excited scream, only to contain yourself once the table next to you started to stare. however that didn’t stop you picking yourself up to meet the red head sitting across from you, smiling like a saint.

pulling him into a hug, you whispered “we’re really adopting a cat?” as your lips stood 2 inches away from his ear. his head pulled back from the embrace for a quick moment, only to confirm your statement with a nod of happiness.

standing there in pure bliss, fantasizing about your new life with your fur baby, you found yourself nearing crying from the overwhelming announcement. only to be brought back to reality once the waiter arrived with your meals. you pulled away, only slightly embarrassed, to become your feast.

“i’m glad you’re so excited” saeyoung spoke. god was all too good to him, he thought. you smiled, softly replying “thank you”. your eyes glanced up from your newly delivered meal to find your lover looking no different than a child being delivered delicious ice cream.

“shall we begin our meal then, 606?” he proposed. you nod, picking up the utensil placed to your right. creating the passage way for the two of you to continue your night full of bliss, no more, no less.

as you silently decided against an ass whooping as reasonable punishment.

BONUS: *on the way home*

“saeyoung” you begin, feeling the once scorching sun hit your revealed arm. “do you have a picture of our future daughter?” you ask. after receiving a gentle laugh, your eyes are met with your loves phone. once inspecting the picture, you could feel yourself melt on the spot.

“she’s adorable, isn’t she?” saeyoung asked, taking a notice of the way your eyes lit up like stars at midnight. with an aggressive yet playful nod of confirmation, in the next second he could feel the way your body pushed into his side, your arms wrapping around his torso.

“thank you so much” you let out, barely being heard from muffling yourself in your lovers flesh. although you couldn’t see it, you had a sense of saeyoungs current facial expression.

one full of excitement, love, passion, and warmth. he would treat this cat like his child, you were positive of it. and on the plus side, jumin wouldn’t have to worry about saeyoung trying to get a hold of elizabeth now.

in that moment, almost as if he heard your thoughts, he says “we should name her elizabeth the fourth, elly for short!”. there was the silly, child-like man you loved, you thought.

for the remainder of the late hours, you would be convincing saeyoung not to name her any variation of the name elizabeth the third. you knew for a fact that letting that name slide would result in a lawsuit by the morning.

elly the fourth did sound cute though... perhaps you should propose keeping it as a nickname for times jumin isn’t present.

---

3:07 AST - 07/22/21

#mystic messenger #mysme #mysme fanfic #saeyoung choi #saeyoung x mc #707 #mysme 707 #707 x mc #luciel choi #saeyoung

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sunnypogue · 4 years

Note

Okay you know how coho!rafes gf is always super sassy and animated? So like what if one day she’s acting super off and down and rafe is like??? Bc she’s never been that way and she breaks down in front of him for the first time 🥺🥺🥺

wow this was lowkey cathartic.

sorry i am BAD at emotion but this is usually how it goes for me: bottle shit up and then explode at someone you love - not! healthy!!!!

anyways, enjoy!

rafe was playing video games shirtless on the couch when you came home, announcing your late arrival via a slammed door.

“hi babe.” he offered, eyes glued to the screen, where he was shooting...something. “no, not you topper. shut up.”

“hi.” you grunted, throwing your work bag on the table, kicking your heels off in the foyer.

it had been a BITCH of a day - you had gone into your internship, expecting to finish up a project you had been editing all week, only to find it completely wiped from your hard drive. your morning was dedicated to trying to relocate your missing project - multiple phone calls to IT, a panicked text exchange with your mom, a desperate plea to your co-worker, who just shrugged and said, “you should have backed it up on your external.”

your lunch was spent getting screamed at by your boss, insisting that you piece something together before going home (also berating you for not backing the project up to your external hard drive.)

your afternoon (and evening) was spent recreating a shitty, dumbed down version of your project - you stared at the monitor with tears in your eyes, hand shaking as you attempted to put a two-week project together in 8 hours.

by the time you commuted home (a solid 40 minutes), you were completely and totally defeated - all you wanted was a hot shower and sleep.

you dragged your ass up the stairs, rafe’s voice yelling into his headset fading into the background as you made it into his room, immediately heading for the shower.

you were so exhausted, you sat on the floor of the shower, letting the scalding hot water rain down over your shoulders, as you tried to muster up the energy to wash your hair.

by the time you emerged from the shower, skin red and pruned, it was near midnight. too exhausted to hunt down pajamas, you let your body collapse onto the bed, wrapped in nothing but a towel.

you felt pathetic.

you weren’t used to the feeling - normally, you liked challenges, thrived in adversity - but this job was different. despite it initially being your “dream job” with a “dream company, you were completely out of your comfort zone.

you were thrown into an arena where you didn’t know as much as your coworkers, and despite your effort, you still managed to fuck up the little things (or, in this case - a big thing). you had never NOT been good at something - and it sucked.

you noticed you were crying the same time you noticed the bedroom door opening, rafe’s voice breaking your internal monologue - “babe?”

“what?” you snapped, quickly wiping any evidence of emotion off your face.

rafe frowned, stepping into the room, “i just wanted to see what you were doing - you didn’t come down after you showered.”

you scoffed, “okay, next time i want to take a long shower and lay down, i’ll confirm with you. sorry.”

“woah!” rafe held his hands up in surrender. “babe, it wasn’t an accusation - i just wanted to see if you were okay -”

“i’m fine, rafe.” you cut him off, looking down at your nails.

“you don’t seem -”

“what, rafe!” you yelled. “what the fuck do you want from me? i’m tired, i worked all day, leave me alone.”

“i want you to talk to me!” rafe growled. “you don’t fucking talk to me - ever since you started this job. you come home upset, and you shut me out!”

“fine! you wanna talk? let’s fucking talk.” you swung your feet off the bed, sitting upright. “i fucking hate my internship. i fucking commute 40 minutes one way, at the ass crack of dawn, only to get ignored by my coworkers, and screamed at by my boss. i have no idea what the fuck i’m doing, i’ve cried in the bathroom stall FOUR times this week, and now, i fucked up a massive project that i was really -” your voice was starting to crack at this point, hot tears sliding down your cheeks. “REALLY fucking proud of.”

you were really starting to cry at this point, completely overwhelmed from your day. “i just don’t know what the fuck to do. i thought this was what i wanted, but i don’t. i don’t fucking want to do this anymore. i don’t want to feel like this anymore.” you whispered, burying your face in your hands.

you felt the mattress next to you dip. next thing you knew, you were in rafe’s lap, cradled in his arms as you sobbed, all of the emotions from the first two months of your job releasing in that moment.

“i’m sorry.” he murmured, running his hand up and down your back. “i didn’t realize you felt like this - i’m sorry you felt like this.”

“s’not your fault.” you hiccuped, catching your breath. “i didn’t really want you to know it wasn’t going well - i thought it would get better.”

“you know you can always come and vent about this shit with me, right?” rafe asked, thumbing fresh tears from your cheeks. “i know you like to be on top of everything and in control, but you don’t have to pretend with me. i’m not going to judge you.”

you shrugged - it wasn’t easy for you to get vulnerable. “i just -”

“no. baby, look at me.” rafe’s voice was stern.

you looked up, meeting his stare.

“you don’t have to be perfect at everything you do. you don’t have to get shit right the first time, every time. so this job sucks - fuck it, that’s why you take internships in college. now you know what you don’t like. finish out strong - like i know you will, because you attack everything in life with an insane amount of determination, and we can figure out other options for you in the spring.”

your bottom lip quivered, fresh tears filling your eyes.

“shit, baby - was that not - i didn’t mean -” rafe fumbled over his words, hands going to cup your face.

“no! no, that was -” you hiccuped, tears spilling. “fuck. that was exactly what i needed to hear.”

rafe exhaled, the momentary panic leaving his body. “you’re so fucking talented - and you’re so fucking hard on yourself. just...just come talk to me, next time. we’re in this shit together, baby. i want to help.”

you sucked in a shaky breath, leaning up to hook your arms around your boyfriend’s neck, “love you. mean it.”

“love you too.”

#rafe cameron #drew starkey #outer banks #outer banks fic #outer banks imagine #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron x reader #asks #she writes

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pokemagines · 4 years

Text

make me feel. (jeritza x reader)

anon asked: “u call Jeritza by his real name and he Completely Melts”

a/n: IM SO CLOSE TO RECRUITING JERITZA.... i can Taste it. but i had to take a break and lovemail bc if not my brain was gonna explode !!! --mod touko

“yield!” the ghost of a smile graces your face as the training sword meets the bottom of his chin. jeritza looks up at you, an unreadable expression on his features, jaw tense as he sucks in a breath. for a moment, his eyes leave yours as he scans the battlefield, no doubt looking for anything to be used as a distraction, so you push the blade forward, applying enough pressure for him to realize that there was no escape now.

“...i yield.” his surrender makes you giddy, though the emotion doesn’t quite reach your face, and you extend a hand to help him up. he takes it, and you pull him up, his body almost a head taller than yours.

“you did well,” you praise him, and he shakes his head, still unused to such praise by anyone. “almost had me a few times.” neither one of you has stepped back, the closeness almost natural, his hand gripping yours tightly.

“but you bested me,” you hear the door of the training hall close and realize that caspar and petra must’ve left, the silence of their absence almost deafening as you look up and see how intently he’s looking at you. you step away, and he unclasps your hands, not wanting to overstep.

“that i did! but don’t count yourself out, you’ve bested me a few times.” you test out a wink, something you had picked up from hanging around dorothea. jeritza flushes, and turns his gaze downward. “oh, emile, did you want to come to dinner with me? i heard they were serving--”

“what did you call me?” his voice sounds cold as he cuts off your sentence. you blink owlishly at him.

“i’m sorry i didn’t mean to--”

“no,” he steps closer to you, arms pulling you into his chest, one hand on your cheek. jeritza is looking up and down your face desperately, looking for any spark in your eyes that would hint to him that you wanted him to continue. his cold, calloused hands send a shiver down your spine, and that’s all he needs to close the distance between you two, lips meeting yours desperately, pulling you tight against his body with one hand, the other still clutching your face.

teeth mesh against teeth awkwardly, his nose bumping against yours but jeritza doesn’t care. you could have him bleeding out on the floor, his heart cut out in your hands and he’s sure he would be fine with it. he just wanted you, you, more and more of you. he pulls back for air, missing the feeling of you on him already, but the need to hear you say his name again overwhelmed him. he’s sure he’s never wanted something so much in his life.

“...say it again?” you look confused, but decide not to question it.

“emile,” you whisper, and he pulls you in again, more desperate, his hands grasping your thin summer outfit tight, you can feel his heart thump in his chest as his tongue dips into your mouth, tasting you, finding you to be sweeter than the richest ice cream. he gasps quietly when you push back, biting his bottom lip as you pull his hair out of its ponytail and watch his hair fall down and frame the sharp angles of his face.

“again,” he moans against your lips, letting you press him lightly against the wall. his pupils are blown wide, a hungry look on his face as the intense, open-mouthed kisses continue to be pressed against his lips.

“emile.” breathy and sultry and it goes straight to his head. you tug sharply on his hair and he shivers. “emile, i--”

the doors to the training hall creak open, and you pull back, jeritza’s arms still circled around your waist, preventing you from going too far out of his grip. hubert strides in, then, upon noticing you two, a grin grows upon his face. suddenly feeling self-conscious, you straighten your white blouse, tucking it back into your skirt/pants. jeritza just glowers at hubert, not bothering to hide the evidence that you two had been kissing. his swollen and bruised lips would be enough evidence anyways.

“nice shade of lipstick.” hubert comments, solely to try and annoy jeritza. “her majesty requests your presence, professor. please do make yourself look... less shameless before meeting her in the audience chamber.” your cheeks feel hot, nodding at hubert before he gives you both a look up and down, before turning and leaving.

“duty calls...” you trail off sheepishly, not knowing how to address the passion shared only moments ago. for a beat, you’re tempted to rewind time just to feel his lips on yours again, but you’re not that selfish. “emile, i’ll meet you at dinner tonight, yeah?” jeritza nods, and you place a kiss on his cheek, his body still trying to process the electrifying sensation of your lips on his.

“thank you,” he whispers as he watches you walk to the door, sparing him a parting smile before heading out. jeritza touches his lips, his heart thumping as butterflies well up in his chest.

he’s never felt so alive.

#jeritza von hrym #emile von bartels #jeritza x byleth #jeritza x reader #jeritza #fe16 #fe3h #fluff #imagine #x reader #ficlet #mod touko

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luccislegs · 4 years

Note

Hi! I just found your blog and I love your hcs and scenarios. THATS WHY id like to ask you some scenario if thats alright: a girl with a demon akuma no mi joins the spade pirates and falls in love woth Ace. Is thats okay? Thanks!❤️

so i did a little research to make sure i knew what exactly an akuma was, bc my only run in with that word is from d. grey man and i think we all know that info gotten from anime should always be fact checked. i found that it’s a malevolent fire demon, so i’m going to write her as a very angry zoan type. sound good? good.

–

You stared in dismay at the flaming wreckage of your ship, which was in that state because you were incapable of controlling your anger. Which just pissed you off more. You huffed, feeling the flames spark at your fingertips before you clenched them in your fists. Just as you were getting ready to wander off, a chorus of voices filled your ears, followed by a group of pirates rounding the corner.

The leader was laughing raucously at some joke he had just told, but it tapered off as he caught sight of the fire raging.

“That’s some bad luck. What happened?” he asked, raising his eyebrows in question.

You bristled at the question, immediately defensive. “None of your business.”

“Woah,” he said, holding his hands up in defense, “you don’t have to tell me, but it looks like you’re out a ship. Why don’t you join us for a drink? We don’t bite.”

You gritted your teeth, tempted to turn them down. Then you sighed and nodded, realizing you could do with something to calm your nerves and distract you from this disaster. No one said you had to actually stick around.

But as you made your way towards the tavern, the stupid jokes the leader, who you found out was the captain and that his name was Ace, was telling were hilariously stupid, and you were relaxed before you ever got into the building. Without even thinking, you joined them at their table, sipping at your own mug while the others powered through a dozen drinks. By the time 2 hours had passed, they were well and truly gone, but somehow you found you didn’t mind their rowdiness. It was a nice distraction from your ire and the fact that you were now stranded on this stupid island.

They were only there for 2 days before the log pose reset, and you were standing on the dock watching them load up. It left a sour taste in your mouth that you would likely never see them again, but you were grateful for the company they had provided.

They were getting ready to hoist anchor when Ace called out to you, “Aren’t you coming?”

You froze, staring at him dumbfounded, before shaking your head enthusiastically. “No, I– I really shouldn’t. I get angry sometimes and…well you saw what happened. I don’t want to do that to you or your ship. Thank you though.”

Ace grinned, hopping back down onto the pier. “Nonsense, _____. I guess you don’t know do you?” he said, and with a flourish of his wrist held a palmful of fire.

“Wait,” you said, your eyes widening with surprise, “you can control fire too?” That wasn’t necessarily the full extent of your powers, but you weren’t ready to divulge the rest just yet. You generally pretended to be a logia type, but in reality you were a mythical zoan with a terrifying form, and people generally didn’t like it. Best to let them believe you could just control fire rather than transform.

“Control it?” he asked with cocky smirk, “Baby, I am fire!” he said as his whole body lit up. He was surprised when you took a step closer, allowing your hand to be enveloped in the flames before it wrapped around his bicep. Somehow, he found that to be one of the most attractive things he had ever experienced, because no one could touch him while he was like that without getting hurt. But there you were, staring at him in wonder. “Our ship was built with me in mind, so you’ll be fine.”

You looked up at him with a hopeful shine in your eyes before your gaze moved to this ship. You bit your lip, taking a moment to consider whether you could really be happy with them, before realizing you already were, and nodded. “Okay, I’ll join you, if you’re sure.”

His answering smile set your heart aflutter, and you found yourself unable to help smiling back.

_____

Several months into your new adventure, and the others had finally stopped encouraging you to cut loose, much to your relief. It had taken several rather forceful refusals before they finally stopped, but you couldn’t say you were happy. It wasn’t that you wanted to avoid drinking and partying, but your temper was already short and hard to control, and alcohol just made it worse.

No one but Ace seemed to know this, though, and so he went through the extra effort of including you in their past-times, for which you were grateful. More often than not, he found his way to you in the bars or on the beaches, whenever you were docked, or on the ship when it was just your crew out on the open ocean, and sat beside you, talking about whatever came to mind. This encouraged the others to do the same, and you found it made you feel less alone.

It also began another ritual that you hadn’t foreseen. Sometimes, the flickering anger grew to be too much and you found yourself unable to sleep. On nights like that, you would make your way to the deck of the ship and use the gentle sounds of the ocean to soothe yourself. Somehow, Ace caught on to what you were doing and took it upon himself to accompany you, foregoing sleep to help you feel better. It was a nice gesture, but it didn’t help the new flames stirring next to the ever present anger. More than once, you found yourself more stressed out because he was there, and it was a struggle not to snap at him.

It was strange, how Ace seemed to be able to read you, because during times like that he would reach out and take your hand, and that would settle you down again. The constant heat of his hand, somehow hotter than your own, would tether you back to reality for a while, but then he would take it away again and it would start all over again. You were sure he didn’t know exactly why you were so irate, but you couldn’t tell him to go away when he was so sweet and just trying to help.

Some nights, he would give in before you and say goodnight with a gentle hand on your head and a teasing command not to stay up too late. You would smile and nod, and as soon as he turned it would drop, a sigh of relief following the sound of the door closing.

You were in too deep and you knew it, but you couldn’t push him away. And it just made the emotions swirling around inside you all the more confusing.

_____

As with all secrets, yours finally came to light in what was probably the worst way you could have imagine.

Ace was strong, as were the others, and as were you, but this time the enemy was just overwhelming. You were fighting your own group of enemies when you saw Ace fall. You didn’t know how, nothing had ever hurt him before, but somehow this person had done it. Before you knew it, you were exploding with rage and on a rampage.

The others cowered in fear, Ace looking on in awe as you unleashed your true form on the ones who had hurt your family, and the person you cared for more than anything. By the time you were done, nothing remained standing, and the others had run into hiding.

But you didn’t know that, and collapsed in the center of the destruction, thinking you had killed them all in the crossfire. Tears welled up and spilled over, and you began to sob into your hands. This is exactly why I’m always alone, you thought bitterly, all I ever do is hurt people.

Ugly anger and hurt swirled around inside you, blocking out everything around you, until warm arms enveloped you, hugging you close. You immediately recognized the warmth and struggled closer, hoping to disappear in his arms. You were so overwhelmed with happiness and shame that you couldn’t form words, and cried harder.

Ace didn’t say anything, rubbing your back and petting your hair until you had cried yourself out. Only when you pulled back did he open his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it.

Through watery hiccups, you said, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” It was all you could manage to formulate, and you would have kept on if Ace hadn’t covered your mouth.

You stopped, eyes wide with fear. You expected him to berate you, to ask why you hadn’t told him that you were a zoan type, to tell you that you were a monster and you had almost killed them. Not that you didn’t know it already, but you would deserve it. You should have known better; you knew you couldn’t control your powers and that someone would get hurt eventually.

“I’ll leave, Ace. I promise. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. I saw you were hurt and I just– I don’t know. I’m sorry,” you said around his hand, clenching his shirt in your hands. It was the last thing you wanted, but it was for the best. You couldn’t bear the thought of hurting anyone in the crew, most of all him.

To your surprise, instead of assent, you got confusion.

“Woah, leave? No one said– _____, you don’t have to leave. Yeah, you messed up, but everyone does. So did I. Your devil fruit powers are new, and you just need to learn to control them. I can help you, but as your captain, I’m telling you you aren’t allowed to leave,” he said, cupping your chin. His free hand came up to wipe away the tears still falling. “I don’t want you to.”

To your immense surprise, he leaned over and pressed his lips to yours, and your eyes fell half-closed, your body relaxing in his arms. When he pulled back, you started, staring at him in confusion. “I could have killed you and the others, Ace. I couldn’t stand it if you got hurt.”

He grinned, taking your hand and helping you to your feet before slinging an arm around your shoulders. The others had come out of hiding, swarming around you with mixtures of concern and awe. A barrage of voices, mainly consisting of “How come you didn’t tell us?” and “That was so cool,” filled the air. You had been expected resentment and anger, but they surprised you.

Then you remembered they were pirates, and figured they were probably used to almost dying anyway. It didn’t help you feel any less guilty, but it made you feel a little better that they didn’t outright hate you.

Ace began to steer you back towards the ship, willingly leading you as you stumbled blindly beside him. Your outburst had cost every ounce of energy you possessed and you were surprised you were even still standing.

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you learn to control it. It just takes practice, but it won’t do any good to run. We’ll just hunt you down,” he said, tipping his hat as he grinned down at you.

You laughed tiredly as the others began to shout in agreement, and you realized that you wouldn’t have been able to leave them anyway.

–

dont @ me

#portgas d. ace #portgas d. ace x reader #one piece scenarios

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vide0-nasties · 6 years

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hi there! you're a darling, eustacia is a babe. how about 2, 3, 11, 17, 21 questions for the ask thingy? (ps. your answer to 20 question was something. i didn't know i need this imagery, god bless you *furiously fans self*)

i'm blushing irl because you called eustacia a babe, i've seriously never lived before today!!! ALSO, real talk? i'm probably going to make that into a longer standalone bc holy shit it was fun to write

asra angst at the top bc i love dying.

3. How would your apprentice handle being so close tosomething that they desperately want, only to have it ripped away? What was it?

It comes back—all ofher, she comes back. Asra’s done it—he’s done the impossible, he’s given her back to her. Only moments ago, hewas a complete, but friendly stranger, and now—now—

“Asra,” she sobs,reaching for him. He looks so relieved, tears spilling from his eyes, and hebreaks down himself, hacking up his own sob, “Eustacia, oh, shit, fuck, thank god! Thank all of them—”

He tries to bury his face in her chest, her stomach, but shedoesn’t let him. No, she drags him up and kisses him so hard they will bothsurely wear bruises.

Everything. She remembers everything. Every little detail.His hand lies flat on her chest, over the heartbeat he so excruciatingly loves,and they cry against each other’s mouths. It’s been so long, too long. Neveragain. They’ll never be apart again. She won’t let it happen.

She’ll tear apart the fucking heavens with her bare hands before he’s made to hurt again.

“The Count?” she asks, between kisses. “He’s dead?”

“Lucio’s dead,” he promises her. “He’s dead, and he’s never coming back.”

Another sob rips from her, and she’s made even stupider andmore boneless by relief. “Nadia lives?”

“Nadi lives. She’s alive, I think she’s safe.”

Eustacia draws him back against her mouth, mistaking the wetfrom her nose and the sting in her eyes as tears. But when her body begins tojerk, disobeying her will, and something trickles from her ears, and her mouthfills with the unmistakable tang of blood…

NO, she wants toscream, but she is frozen in place. Her body stands rigid as her expressiondrops and goes hollow, blank, even wrapped around Asra.

NO! NO-NO-NO! WE HAVESUFFERED ENOUGH. HE HAS SUFFEREDENOUGH. NOT AGAIN, NOT THIS, NOT ASRA. NOTASRA. NOTASRANOTASRANOTASRANOTASRA—

“Eustacia? Eustacia?!Wh-what happened, you’re—why are you bleeding? Eustacia? You…can you hear me?! No, no-no-no, PLEASE,” hepanics, and his panic turns to anger, despair, heartbreak. All of it, writtenplainly on his face, and she can do nothing but watch and scream silentscreams. Agony so intense, it might’ve shattered her beyond repair, if Asradidn’t take it back.

#’s 2 (nsfw), 11, 17, and 21 under the cut!

2. Does your apprentice get flustered over anything? Whatmake them flustered? Do they turn red? Stumble over words?

To give herself some credit—not the overblown, clownishly arrogant kind of credit a person thatthinks poorly of themselves uses to make cover for their self-loathing—Eustaciais usually the one to throw someone off-balance.

But, then Doctor Julian ‘I’m Actually Taller Than You And,Also, Look At My Lovely Red Hair, Dashing Eyepatch, And Big Pretty Hands’Devorak breaks into her shop, and ever since that moment she’s hasn’t knownpeace.

What a fucking suckershe is.

The Rowdy Raven is in rare form tonight, packed to therafters and so loud you’d be lucky to hear a thought in the confines of yourown head. The fugitive and the witch are hardly worthy of note, tucked into a far-backbooth as they are. But they’re having their own party. The masquerade is soon,and everything is up in the air, down to the wire, and all to sea.

It’s a shame Eustacia’s never had a knack for divination,otherwise she would’ve foreseen Julian’s very pleasant, and handsy mood.

The absolute filthhe whispers in her ear. It would make a seasoned brothel girl blush. But, toher credit, it takes Julian slipping his hand down the front of her pants toreally begin to undo her. She remains tucked into his side—nose-to-nose, hisarm around her shoulders—wheezing jagged, nervous laughter. Even with his gloveon, his fingers feel amazing circlingher clit.

She has to be an obscene red from her navel to her chin, andshe knows she keeps trying to bunch up like a dead spider—crossing her legs, duckingher head, hugging her middle, or tryingto. Julian’s making such good arguments.

Her laughter rises to a wild pitch, one of her hands flyingup to cover her mouth when he removes his hand and sucks her slick off hisfingers. She knots a hand in his shirt and thinks her howling laughter willrattle her apart when he kisses her and purrs, “You are the best thing I have evertasted. I really think I might die if I don’t get to hear how you laugh whenyou cum.”

11. Talk about how your apprentice deals with emotions. Boththe ones they like to feel, and what they don’t like to feel.

Unfortunately, especially for Asra, Eustacia knows she isthe sort of person that either feels everythingat the height of their extremes, or she plays numb to cover what she does notwish to display.

Her elevated moods, the good and the manic, make her brassy,brazen. Difficult to stomach for long periods unless you’ve trained yourself towithstand them. In these states she’s loud. Overwhelming. Her energy isfrantic, and she’s too lost to it to remember things like volume control, ormonitoring her mouth, or keeping her hands from being destructive when shetalks with them.

Everything is exciting, and everything needs done right now, right this instant.

Sadness, fear, anxiety—they all become anger. Her teeth andher muscles clench like her fists. Her voice bottoms out and her eyes weighheavy and unforgiving on any and all that cross her path. She stops walking,and ends up stalking, prowling. She watches empty air and waits for a fight tocome to her. When it doesn’t, she wants to look for one.

She doesn’t remember her old life, what kind of historycould happen to produce a person like she is, but she wonders how often shegave into the urge. She wonders if she ever tried to smother the impulse, killthis ugly beast with her hands breaking its neck, like she tries to do now.

When she is overtaken by anger, or clued into the vulgarityof her good moods, she pulls away from herself, putting her mental reins underan iron hand. Her incorporeal self takes a step away from her physical body,needing time and space to right herself, and her expression slips into a coolmask. Her body quiets, starting with her hands.

Only once she has made herself as placid as unbroken glassdoes she return.

17. Can they bear pain? How much pain can they bear? Do theyhate it or do they like it ala our good Doctor?

There’s something mean inside her, something ugly, and itfeels good to feed it.

This is a bar she’s never been to, and never will again. Shepours a beer in the lap of a man she’s never met, and never will again.

Her head snaps to the side when his fist connects. Laughterpipes up her throat, and a crimson bubble of blood on her lips breaks apartwhen it exits. The world blurs when the brawl starts. Eustacia splits herknuckles open on whatever they catch, throws her elbows, crushes feet with herheels, launches her knees.

Starbursts of pain make fireworks explode behind her eyes.Her nose gets broken, her brow split, her jaw rocked. Her cackle is howlingwhen she feels a rib grind together—broken. She rears her head up, catchingsight of Asra’s white hair weaving through the violence. He wades inthoughtlessly, as if he’s done this more times than he can count, a dance thathe knows by heart.

His expression is almost as murder as hers is, but itblanches to rabbit-hearted terror when she wipes her mouth on her sleeve,pushed by the crush of bodies out the door, bar brawl turning street riot likelightning.

It feels like the ocean is sliding off her body, and shestands straighter, taller, broader, as dark as an ocean trench’s bed.

She spits her blood in the face of a man that floors her,his hand eclipsing her head to slam it into the coarse pavers. The side of herhead shreds, pebbling with blood. Asra finds her again, hands glowing dangerously.He grabs the man by the nape, and Eustacia is bombarded by the stench of burnthair, laughing when her attacker screeches and wheels away.

“Get up,” Asra wheezes, taking her wrists. “You have to getup. The guards are coming—get up!”

He’s able to haul her away, her arm flung over his shouldersand her steps sometimes catching. Her head’s fogged, and she’s a littleconfused.

“I was gone for fiveminutes,” he barks. “Five minutes, and you start a riot. What were you evendoing?! What if you got stabbed?! Youcould’ve died, Eustacia—you could’ve died—!Do you know what that would do tome?!”

“Felt good,” she croaks, trying to wipe at her mouth, endingup hitting her nose and sending sparks into her vision. “Felt so good, getting—gettingthe pressure off. Don’t feel so badnow. Always feel so bad, like I’msick. It never stops.”

21. What’s their relationship history look like? What weretheir previous datemates like? Do they have a type?

At thirteen, she had her first kiss, and ever since thatmoment she was ruined. Completely andforever, in fact! When the girl that kissed her immediately stood up and left,scrubbing her mouth on her shirt and retching melodramatically, Eustacia was tooheartbroken to understand this was the beginning of a trend.

Through the rest of her teens, she would find herself drowning in romances—incredibly powerful,painfully short romances. The actualperson mattered very little, she went for all types if they spared a kind wordor a sweet touch on her.

There was a green-eyed woodcutter’s son that wooed herrelentlessly for weeks, and left her minutes after they finished fucking in hismother’s woodshed. A fellow witch in the Sisters that only met her in the dark,who went around calling Eustacia pathetic and creepy behind her back. A poetwith long, silky hair that introduced her husband to Eustacia the way wardensreleased hounds on escaped prisoners.

Her last ‘real’ romance, if you could’ve called a single onereal, was an opera singer. Renaldo Sarintoni, a man twice her age with a tenoras sweet as church bells. She’d gone to two of his shows, and after one of themhand-delivered a bouquet of roses to his door.

She’d scraped and scraped to afford those roses, and she thoughtshe might burst into tears when he ran his fingers over the petals and calledthem beautiful. What a sonorous voice you have, he marveled, do you sing?

Not much—she knew three arias and countless pub tunes—but,for Renaldo, she cleared her throat and sang a piece of a love song for him—libiamo, libiamo ne’lieti calici che labelleza infiora. The sparkle in his eyes was incredible.

That was probably her most intense love. He’d swept her offher feet, dressed her in fine things, wasted money on her to the point of embarrassment,took her to beautiful restaurants. They talked endlessly, for hours, abouteverything. She never wanted children, but might’ve had his.

Three months of otherworldly loving, until they woke up onemorning and he said, “I’m sorry. But…”

As badly as she wanted her heart to scar over and feelnothing, it didn’t happen. Left and right, she continued to fall in love, butno longer did she allow herself to wander into a place where her misshapen littleheart could get broken again. There was little to it left, and she wanted it toherself.

For a time, she fought herself, her nature, her ways. Shesnapped at suitors, laughed off ladies, and heaped scorn upon romantics that sniffedher out like bloodhounds.

And then, Asra found her.

She will end up wishing she hadn’t fought that love so hard.

#holler holler get $#rags wrote a thing #asra #julian #OC: Eustacia i didn't even try for 300 words lol #but i am loving asra in this chilis tonight #my bby my love my heart the light of my life #Anonymous

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