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#i wanna play with his hair. it looks like fun
sunny44 · 3 days
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She’s mine
Pairing: Max Verstappen x Fem!reader
Warnings: just a sexy blurb.
Summary: Where Y/n makes a plan to get Max to finally admit that he likes her.
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The night was young, and the vibrant atmosphere of the club pulsed with electrifying energy. I walked across the dance floor, my scandalous red dress capturing the attention of everyone around me. I knew I was being excessive, but sometimes, being subtle simply wasn't an option.
My eyes met Charles's across the dance floor, and a mischievous smile played on his lips as I approached him. I knew Charles was Max's friend, and we had exchanged messages earlier for me to explain my plan to make Max act once and for all.
"Charles.” I said, my sweet voice laden with a suggestive tone. "Having fun?"
Charles winked, a wicked smile playing on his lips. He knew exactly what I as up to, and he was more than willing to help.
"Loads, but eager to see Max's reaction to your plan.” Y/n laughed, a melodious sound that echoed over the thumping music.
"Thanks for helping me, by the way. Your friend is a slowpoke."
"Yeah, I thought he would have made a move by now with the way you two act."
"Me too." He laughed, and I noticed Max finding me in the middle of the crowd, his smile evident as soon as he saw who was with me. So, I leaned close to Charles's ear and spoke. “Max is not liking what he's seeing right now. Do you think we should dance and make him even more jealous?"
"Well, what are we waiting for?"
And so, the two of us began to dance, moving to the rhythm of the music as my plan unfolded. I could feel Max's eyes on me, and it was exactly what I wanted.
I was determined to make him finally take action.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the dance floor, Max watched with jealous eyes ablaze. He knew I was flirting with Charles, and he couldn't contain the whirlwind of emotions consuming him.
He navigated through the crowd to the DJ booth, where Martin commanded the beats.
"Martin, turn off the music.” he ordered, his voice heavy with urgency.
"What? Why?"
"Just turn off the music for a minute, please.” he said, somewhat irritated.
Martin raised an eyebrow but nodded, understanding that something important was happening.
With the music dimmed, all eyes turned to Max as he pointed to Y/n, who was now illuminated by the spotlight, her red dress shining like a blazing flame in the club's darkness.
"Are you all seeing that girl?" Max's voice echoed through the club, and besides the light, he also pointed his finger at me. "Talk to her, look at her, or breathe near her, and you'll have a problem with me. She's mine."
I felt a shiver run down my spine as Max's eyes locked onto me, a wild intensity that made me tremble slightly.
But then I saw Charles's mischievous smile, and I knew it had all been worth it.
My heart raced as I saw Max coming towards me, maneuvering through the people who had started dancing again when Martin had turned the music back on.
"Max..."
He took my hands, pulling me close to him, and kissed me, and it was one of those breath-taking kisses.
"I know I've been an idiot all this time, procrastinating instead of asking you to be my girlfriend, but I can't deny anymore what I feel for you."
"Finally.” I say, and he looks at me surprised. "You really are an idiot, I had to plan with Charles to make you jealous so that you finally admitted out loud that you want me as your girlfriend."
"You two planned this?"
"Obviously, don't get me wrong, Charles is hot but not really my type."
"And what's your type?"
"Dutch, world champion, and completely clueless when a hot girl is after him." He laughs and pulls me closer.
"There are plenty of hot girls after me."
"Yeah, but I'm the only one who will get something else out of you." I whispered back and saw the hairs on his neck stand up.
"Wanna get out of here?"
"Definitely."
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Bonus scene!
Maxverstappen instagram stories
“She’s definitely mine”
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jyoongim · 1 day
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Can I request an Alastor x reader where she is a newer sinner. Really nerdy, obsessed with history, fun facts, animal facts, and shy at first. Just says things randomly, like “did you know that if a cow has twins more often than not she abandons ones just rearranging things when bored, someone will come down to lobby in the middle of the night and there she is moving the couches at like 3am. Doesn’t think when she speaks when she sees Alastor in his overlord form just says something like “smash” before walking off. Kind of a this gives me conflicted feelings and made me learn something about myself I don’t think I should know. It can be smut or fluff I don’t mind! My friends just say I have adhd, never been tested, don’t wanna be lol, I just ramble when I get excited and talk too much or too loud when excited too. It’d be nice to see a reader like me :) thank you love! I’m trying not to ramble so I’m sorry if this all over the place!
Hehehe could be possible adhd but I’m also certain everyone has a touch of tism as well so you’re not alone hehehe.
(I too have undiagnosed adhd)
Typing this from my phone cause I’m scared to do it on my work computer😭 should have brought my iPad to work
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You had always been…different.
When you were alive you spent most of your time doing your hobbies or reading. You weren’t much of a social butterfly but did make the effort every once in a while. But people always treated you like you were an annoyance.
You were strange. Even by demon standards.
But you made a lovely addition to the Princess of Hell’s hotel.
You enjoyed being about to sprout random facts and have people actually be interested.
Animals, history, science you name it you randomly knew it.
You rambled during bonding excersies until you caught yourself yapping and instantly apologized.
You talked to yourself (having been caught in the act more than once)
Husk called you a loose screw but Angel found it charming. Charlie thought you were just the cutest.
And Alastor….
Well you definitely piqued his interest.
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You and Angel were having a “self care” day. Well Angel was. You were just happy to play in his fluff. Angel was telling you about the latest shoot he had to do and then the subject jumped to saying lives. “Oooh cmon toots don’t tell me no one’s were had the hots for that brain of yours” you pin curled his hair, “hmmmm not that I know of. Besides most people think I’m strange, wouldn’t want to scare the masses”
Angel rolled his eyes “well what about here at the hotel? Anyone catch yer fancy?”
You think about it but your mind comes to a blank. Nope you couldn’t in point who you would be the SLIGHTEST but interested in.
The sound of shoes met your ears and you turned to see Alastor entering the lobby. Your ear perked up and your eyes immediately locked in.
You would say you and Alastor were friends. The two of you had great conversations, he listened to your rambles and always told you facts of the time period when he was alive.
He wasn’t in his usual pristine attire. Instead of the polish look, he was dressed more casual. A white button up, rolled at his elbows, wearing dress pants and suspenders, he even didn’t have his gloves on.
He paid no mind to the two of you in the lobby, seemingly in his own world.
“Smash” you said tilting your head, causing Angel to burst out laughing and you blush when you realized you said that out loud.
Alastor turned around, eyebrows quirked “something amusing was said?”
You quickly shook your head while Angel chuckled “Our fact machine here thinks you’re hot*
Alastor blinked, his eyes settling on you.
You wanted to hide in the couch from embarrassment, but Alastor just took a sip of his coffee and began to walk from where he came. He got to the hallway door because pausing briefly, turning to look at you over his shoulder
“I suppose I would ‘smash’ you too dear”
Your cheeks burned and Angel choked as Alastor disappeared.
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darkwolf989 · 2 days
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Butterflies (Valentino x Preschool Reader)
Valentino leaned back on the couch as he watched the night’s news. Not that there was anything playing that he wasn’t already aware of, but he watched out of habit anyway. With his wife away, and Vox and Velvette working, it was nice to have a moment of quiet to himself. The chance to lay on the couch and just be. 
But having a three year old, that luxury never lasted long. 
“Papi?” her soft voice came from the hallway. “Daddy?”
“I’m right here babydoll. Come to the couch,” he replied as he sat up. He opened his arms and she crawled right into him. He settled her against him and stroked her hair.  “Bebita, you should be asleep. You have your first day of school tomorrow, remember? ”
She responded by snuggling into him and he laid back down with her, cradling her tiny body to his. She settled her head just below his ribcage and closed her eyes. He gently rubbed her back and pulled a blanket over them both. With any luck, she’d be asleep in a few moments. 
“Daddy?” she asked a few moments later. “Your tummy is grumbly.”
He sighed, “go to sleep, bebita. Daddy is fine.” 
She was quiet for a moment. “Does your tummy hurt?”
Her words sent alarm bells ringing through his head. He frowned and looked down at her. “No. Does your tummy hurt?”
She nodded. Now he understood. The real reason she was out of bed at ten at night. He gently sat her upright on him. “Bebita, show Daddy where it hurts.” 
She pointed to her belly button and he laid his hand on her tummy. She didn’t flinch away from his touch- that was a good sign. He moved his hand up to her forehead. No temperature. And her coloring was good. She didn’t have the expression she made before she threw up. His mind raced as he tried to think of what could cause her bellyache.
“Does your tummy feel hungry?” He asked.
She shook her head no. 
“Does your tummy feel like it’s going to be sick?”
She again shook her head no. 
He tried to think of anything else that might cause a tummy ache. Suddenly, the thought hit him. 
“Baby? Does it feel like you have butterflies in your tummy?” 
She looked at him in confusion and he tried to explain. 
“Are you worried about starting school?” he asked as he laid her back down against him. “Sometimes when we feel worried or scared, our tummies feel funny. They don’t hurt but there is a different feeling inside us, and it can be a little uncomfortable. Almost like…” 
The Overlord of Drugs and Depravity struggled to find the right words to explain anxiety to his three year old daughter. 
“Almost like we swallowed butterflies. And we feel their little wings fluttering in our tummies. Right here.” He put his hand on his own stomach.  “Sometimes our tummy also feels tight, like a knot. Do either of these sound like the feeling in your tummy right now?”
To his relief she nodded. Alright, this was something he could handle. 
“Daddy feels that way sometimes too,” he said gently. “It’s okay, I promise you- it's normal to be a little scared. But I know you’re going to have so much fun tomorrow, and meet so many new friends.”
To his surprise, she broke out into a sob.
 “But Daddy, I don’t wanna live somewhere else!” She blurted out before he could comfort her further. “I wanna live at home!” 
He sat straight up and sat her up so that she was looking at him.  “Sweet baby girl, is that what you think preschool is?” 
She nodded and he gently wiped at the tears in her eyes. 
“Oh sweetheart, no.  Remember the stories your Auntie Vel and Uncle Vox read to you before bed tonight? The little girl gets picked up by her Mommy at the end of the story, right?
“But Mommy isn’t here, Daddy, so how will I get home?” She hiccuped. 
He held her tighter to him and he could feel the guilt wash over him. No wonder she couldn’t sleep. Silently, he cursed the circumstances that kept his wife away from them. 
“Bebita, Daddy will pick you up. You’ll come home after school, I promise. And then we’ll have dinner and you can tell us all about the fun you had during the day.” He kissed her forehead. “You’re not going to stay there forever, mi amore. I promise. And if you ever need Daddy or Mommy or Auntie or Uncle, how do you get ahold of us?”
“I press the button with your face on it on my watch,” she sniffled. “And then someone will come find me.”
He nodded, “that’s right bebita. That won’t change just because you’re in school, okay? Daddy will always come get you and bring you home, I promise. It’s going to be okay.” He kissed her forehead again  and lifted her into his arms as he carried her into the kitchen. “I know your tummy is nervous, so I’m going to make you something to help settle it okay?” 
She buried her face into his shoulder as he carried her. “No medicine, Daddy.”
“No, sweetheart, no medicine. I promise.” He said softly. “Just a warm baba to help you get to sleep, okay? Close your eyes while I make it. Daddy’s got you.” 
Valentino busied himself preparing her bottle- a task he was an expert in doing one handed and was certain he could do with his eyes closed. Against his shoulder, his daughter closed her eyes and stuck her fingers in her mouth. That’s it, bebita, he thought, settle yourself. You’re okay. 
By the time he sat back on the couch with her, she took all of two sucks of her bottle before he felt her breathing slow. Perfect. He set the bottle off to the side and laid down, settling her on his chest and covering them both with a blanket. Part of him wanted to take her back to her bed, but the other part wanted to keep his little girl safe in his arms, for just a little while longer.
After all, tomorrow was the start of a whole new adventure.
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fanaticsnail · 2 days
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Inspired from the blorbo-kissing picrew (because the version of you reminded me of this):
Red-hair pirates Anastasia Au. And I mean the animated movie. I mean, do you see how perfect it could be?
Shanks, looking for a cheap con, hears about a distant island looking for their princess. His reluctant first mate tags along, helping him find the woman who looks most like the princess. An infuriating(ly beautiful) amnesiac, who makes up for her lost memories with a striking similarity to the lost princess.
Sailing across the ocean, Shanks has to teach this girl how to behave like a convincing princess, all the while warding off the teasing of his first mate (Shanks swears up and down Benn is more fond of this woman than he is of him). Still, this whole ordeal unearths secrets about Shanks' past that he'd rather keep buried. Not to mention, the marines are on their tail, because you best belive this princess has got some secrets of her own.
Kinda popped off with this one, ngl. What's the verdict snail? Do we see the vision?
-♡♡ lots of love
Piano is not my main instrument, but I had to have a cheeky try of this theme because I IMMEDIATELY WANT TO WRITE THIS AS ITS OWN FIC SO DAMN BAD.
I am trying to finish up Mihawk's Sapsorrow and chipped a good chunk away from the Marine's "Dreaming of You" fic this morning. Now all of my thoughts are eclipsed by Red-Hair Anastasia Au. Thank you for commenting about my picrew upload. I am a little raw about how it all turned out 😬.
Here are the Roles:
Anastasia: Reader
Dimitry: Shanks
Vlad: Beckman
Rasputin: Doflamingo/Crocodile (or OC)
Bartok: Rosinante/Buggy (or OC)
Sophie: Mihawk/Buggy (I know, bold choice but I think it'd be way too funny not to).
You have no idea how much I want to write this now. I would cry writing another Shanks x reader. Needs to happen, don't you think? It's been long enough.
How would you see it playing out? I have a few ideas already. Now I'm thinking about:
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(Could be Iva, could be Bon Clay. Either way, I'm having fun with the thought.)
I wanna write this so bad.
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trickstarbrave · 1 year
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a king enjoying a relaxing bath
i dont have anything else i just wanted to draw my sweet nerevar taking a bath fsr. pls enjoy proof i can in fact do backgrounds if i am forced to (to varying degrees of success)
bonus:
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puppyeared · 18 days
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auggie!!
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invinciblerodent · 5 months
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apparently act 3 is when I need to push through the desire to start playing a new character, because now that I'm there with Iona too, I'm struck by an intense urge to play this pretty asshole
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particularly struck by the thought of how fucked his whole situation must be under that armor
like, being born to druids but with no magic of his own, growing up, he never really needed to learn practical skills like dressing a wound, or anything of the sort (what's the point if your mom can just wave vaguely in your direction and whatever issue you have is gone). But when he left and found himself on his own.... given how stubborn he is, he probably learned all his battle- and survival skills by pure trial and error.
I imagine he has a number of weird and wonky, poorly stitched and awkwardly healed old scars, all over his body. Boken many bones, gotten into weird accidents, and has gotten many a bad infection before, too- really, it's a borderline miracle that he still has not only all his limbs, but all his fingers and toes too.
No wonder that he has 16 con to his (currently) 17 dex and his 8 int; without being preternaturally healthy and hardy, he'd easily be a decade dead. nah, this boy is just rawdogging life, smashing his head against walls and hoping that they'll break before his skull does.
i've played him for only like an hour, and I simultaneously hate and love this asshole cockroach of a man so much already
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zkretchy · 1 year
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So the background being that poppy was a pure anything but anything grimdark neutral looked wrong afterwards so...pop~ Today is a day of artistic edge or whatever you call it and alas-Aiden had to suffer my mood here today because ~aesthetics~-they are there to be enjoyed
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twyz · 2 years
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he’s finished!! i’m genuinely super proud of this!! his hair was honestly my favorite part to render jdisjsj
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slttygeto · 7 months
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SO, YOU GOT A BOYFRIEND? | GETO S.
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synopsis: when watching a certain scary movie gives your husband, suguru, the perfect idea on how to ruin you.
c.w: p0rn with plot, fem!reader, reader is referred to as “good girl” “pretty girl”, mask kink (hehe<3), slight fear play, fingering, cunnilingus, dirty talk, suguru talks you through it, praise kink, strength kink if you squint, im obsessed with suguru's arms, clit smack, multiple orgasms.
word count: 2,1k
note: i am BRICKED after writing this. happy halloween hehe.
ghostface suguru! ( @aurelianamu )
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In a dimly lit room, at around 10PM—it was a bit cold outside, the perfect weather to snuggle up and watch some movies. Romance movies? No, you did that last week. Action movie? Eh, you were not in the mood for that—oh, Scream. Your thumb presses on the movie before you put the remote control down and walk towards the kitchen to grab some snacks.
“Sugu, I picked a movie!” you announce as you make your way out of the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn and two drinks. Your husband marches down the stairs in a lazy manner, his long strands messily sticking out of his ponytail that he has to stop and tie it up again. He sees what movie you picked and he stands behind you on the couch.
“Scream?” he questions, hands resting on your shoulders.
“First movie, pretty iconic.”
“I don’t think it’s that scary though,” he doesn’t really say that he would rather watch something else, simply joins you on the couch and pulls you towards him with the bowl of popcorn resting on your lap.
The movie is indeed not that scary, you kept quoting some of the lines here and there, which earned you a chuckle from Suguru every time.
“No, please don’t kill me Mr. Ghostface I wanna be in the sequel,” you say in the same voice and attitude and your husband runs a hand through your hair.
“I think you’d easily outsmart him,” your husband is very supportive of you, but instead of making fun of his statement, your heart thrums in your chest when you picture Suguru in the ghostface mask.
“Really?” you look up at him through your eyelashes but Suguru is staring ahead and doesn’t notice the eyes you’re giving him.
“Yeah, they’re all pretty stupid—minus Sidney, I mean the fact that—“ your husband goes on a three minute ramble about the plot, how he appreciates the intelligence of the main character all while saying that the choice of the ghostface killers was nice. Unbeknownst to him, you were thinking of something else. Something far dirtier than intended.
“Baby,” you cut him off from his ramble and he hums in response.
“You’d be pretty hot as ghostface.” Suguru looks down on you when you say that and raises both eyebrows knowingly.
“Are you insinuating something?” To which you shrug your shoulders before staring back at the big screen in your living room, playing innocent.
“Just saying.”
You weren’t just saying, you knew exactly what you were doing. The next day, you’re sat on your bed folding laundry while watching the newest episode to your favorite podcast. You liked keeping your brain stimulated, and it distracted you from the fact that your husband was always gone for long hours during the day. But when you hear the keys rustling and the front door opening, you raise an eyebrow but don’t question it. Today’s mission must’ve been quick, you think to yourself.
“Welcome home!” you call out from your bedroom but don’t bother to get up, you knew he would come to your bedroom immediately so you keep your eyes on your computer and go back to folding the laundry.
A couple of minutes pass and Suguru doesn’t walk inside the bedroom, so you start getting a little suspicious and decide to go check on him.
“Sugu?” you walk out of the bedroom and notice how the lights downstairs are turned off. You remember leaving them on for him, so he must’ve turned them off on his way upstairs—but where was he?
“Baby, are you in the shower?” the lights in the bathroom were on but the door was closed. Suguru never walked to the bathroom first without greeting you—unless something was wrong. You put your hand on the door handle, but before you could twist the knob, a warm and rough hand covers your mouth and your blood runs cold when you’re being pulled into a different room.
You don’t have time to scream or panic, because when you’re being pinned to the wall by a rather familiar set of hands, your eyes almost bulge out of your skull when you notice the ghostface mask. You’re breathing heavily, cheeks flushed but there’s no sign of panic because you know who this is—the dragon tattoo peeking out of his shirt and the wedding band on his ring finger are enough evidence.
“Do you like scary movies?” Suguru’s voice sounds silky smooth, but the flirting connotation to it has your heart leaping out of your chest.
“Sugu—“
“Wrong,” he pins both hands above your head and his body is so close to yours that you feel the heat radiating off of it. “Let’s try again, I know my girl is smart.”
Your breath is caught in your throat, but you play along and nod sheepishly.
“Do you like scary movies?”
“Mhm,”
“What’s your favorite scary movie?” He traces a finger over your cheek, and the arousal slowly starts pooling between your legs.
“Hm, I don’t know,” you reply in a similar flirtatious tone, nervousness long gone. The realization that you didn’t have to explicitly tell your husband about the ghostface mask and him buying it for your pleasure made all of this very thrilling.
“You have to have a favorite, what comes to mind?”
“Hm, Halloween,” you stick to the same script of the movie, you buck your hips towards him but he pushes a knee between your legs and pins you again to the wall. “Y’know, the one with the guy with the white mask that walks around and stalks baby sitters?”
“Yeah,” Suguru breathes out and takes in how gorgeous you look like this—how he should’ve thought of doing this a long time ago. Your eyes were blown out with lust, chest heaving in excitement all while allowing him to play with you like this. He could feel his pants tighten and his cock was slowly getting hard from knowing exactly what was coming.
“What’s yours?” you bring him out of his thoughts and although you can’t see his face, you know that he was giving you that signature charming smile that always won over your heart.
“Guess.” He purrs out and you subconsciously start grinding against his knee before giving him a reply.
“Nightmare on Elm Street,”
“Wrong,” Suguru goes off script and your lips part for a moment. You’re about to complain, tell him that this wasn’t in the movie—he lets go of your wrists and throws you over his shoulder, delivering a harsh smack to your ass, his rough hand kneads the skin as he makes his way towards your bedroom.
“Better luck next time,” he throws you on the bed and you let out a gasp when your back hits the mattress. You try to sit up, but your husband grabs your ankles and pulls you down towards the end of the bed. “Now let’s see just how fucking filthy you are,”
He parts your legs with his big hands covering the plush skin of your thighs, and you whine out when he removes your shorts to reveal your panties that had an obvious wet patch on them.
“Fuuuck,” he breathes out and lifts up the mask enough for his mouth and nose to be visible. He presses his nose against your panties and takes a whiff of your arousal, the sight is obscene and your face turns red at how pussy drunk he sounds. “Fuck, fuck—should’ve done this sooner baby, you smell so fucking good,” he gives your pussy a kiss through the fabric of your panties before his fingers remove them so messily that you let out a startled noise.
Suguru dives in between your legs and the wet sounds are dirty and make you feel even more turned on. His tongue laps at your clit, fingers pulling the hood back before spitting on it and your eyes roll to the back of your head when he sucks. Two of his thick fingers prod at your entrance, gathering some of the slick that’s pooled there before pushing a single finger inside.
“Thaaaat’s it, good girl,” he breathes out against your clit before giving it a kiss as he pushes the second finger inside. “Yeah, this pussy loves being stuffed by me—fuck, you’re so wet for me. All because of this mask baby girl?” his tone is playful but you’re far too gone to complain and just mindlessly nod.
“So drunk off of me and I haven’t even given you my cock,” he pumps his fingers in and out of you all while curling them to find that one spot inside you. He licks, sucks and spits on your clit with so much passion and when he finds that one spot, you let him know pretty quickly.
“Oh!” you gasp and your thighs shake. “S-Suguru, oh fuck--!” his wrist is burning as he keeps pumping his fingers in and out of you, and the veins in his forearm are bulging out from the sheer strength he is using to finger fuck you until you see white. His free hand comes down and presses against your stomach to apply pressure and keep you pinned down.
You make the mistake of opening your eyes to stare at him. His hand is covered in your arousal, but what truly pushes you over the edge is the fact that his mask had come down and was covering his face entirely. So when he decides to talk you through it, give you that one final push—the ghostface mask seems to intensify the orgasm tenfold.
“I know you’re a good girl, but I’m gonna need you to get dirty for me baby—there it is, theeere it is,” he sounds proud when you finally cum, and you’re loud. You whine and let out soft cries, your hands weakly push at his arm when he keeps fingering you through your orgasm.
“Suguru—too much!” you cry out and gasp when he pulls his fingers out of your soaking pussy to slap your clit.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he quickly starts to unbuckle his belt and pushes his pants enough to free his cock. The tip nudges at your folds and your husband hovers over you with his lean stature. Big broad shoulders cover your entire frame and you’re fucked out from your previous orgasm.
“I’m going in baby, let me in,” your legs spread instinctively to welcome him inside of you and you groan when you feel the sheer size of him inside you. Your hands grip at the back of his shirt, but Suguru holds himself up on his forearms so that you look at his mask.
“Yeah, that’s right—look at me baby, filthy fucking girl,” his strokes were slow but hard. His hands grab at the back of your thighs and push them before fucking into you harder. “You like it, huh?” you couldn’t even give a proper response, only mindlessly nodding when you could feel him even deeper inside you.
He pushes your knees to your chest before setting a dizzying pace. You feel so full of him, so full of his thick cock and Suguru’s eyes roll to the back of his head behind his mask every time he felt your pussy squeeze around him. His finger rubs at your clit the same way that you’ve shown him you like it, and the tip of his cock repeatedly nudges against that one spot that has you falling apart underneath him with a loud cry.
Your orgasm hits you hard and Suguru can’t hold it in any longer—he fucks into you for another minute, head buried in your neck as he groans out your name. Your pussy milks him dry, and he fills you up to the brim—to the point where you could feel him leak out of you.
You lay there breathing heavily, and you weakly reach for the ghostface mask and remove it off of your husband to reveal his sweaty forehead and flushed cheeks. He looks gorgeous like that, and you lock eyes for the first time since the entire night and you’re immediately pulled in towards one another.
Suguru kisses you with so much passion, dick still buried deep inside you and your legs stay wrapped around him as you two make out heavily under your sheets that stuck to your sweaty bodies. You pull away for a moment to kiss his forehead and Suguru closes his eyes as he melts at your touch.
“Thank you for that,” you say, so love struck that the man can’t help but chuckle at how breathless you sound.
“Let’s do it again, yeah?”
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2023: all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.
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screampied · 11 days
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‘ I JUST WANNA HEAR YOU S(C)REAMMM ! ’
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ᡴꪫ sum. what’s your favorite scary movie? is it carrie? psycho? or maybe nightmare on elm street? perhaps picking up the phone was a bad idea, but you don’t scare easily! or do you?
wc. 6.0k
warnings. fem! reader, ghostface geto & ghostface nanami, college au, threesōmes, unprotected, brief phone sēx, roleplay, dirty talk, praise, overstim, implied multiple ōrgasms, spit, manhandling, brēeding, hair pulling, oral (f & m receiving), cowgirl dp.
an. from this ask!
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“hello.”
“hello?”
“what’s your favorite scary movie?”
you deadpan, almost as if you’ve seen this movie before. it was around close to midnight. you were the only one sober at some random frat party you got dragged to. everyone besides you were probably wasted or shoving tongues into mouths. sitting up on a cushioned bed, you hold the landline up to your ear. “mean girls two. bye.”
“….girl what? that’s not a—”
you hang up, averting your eyes back towards the tv screen that displayed some cheesy soap opera. about precisely thirteen seconds pass before the landline screeches a loud deafening ring again.
sighing, you answer it. “stop calling this number. prank calls aren’t funny.”
“no.” the voice replies, and it’s very deep—you swear you’ve heard something like it before. a best way to describe it was that it had a gruff pitch to it, baritone running all underneath it. his voice was also a bit sly too. “i just wanna talk to you.”
“bother some other girl. bye.”
“don’t hang up on me.”
for whatever reason, you don’t hang up. his voice sounded a bit stern—you sit up before growing quiet. you’re fully alert now.
“good girl. now, i’ll ask again. what’s your favorite scary movie?”
pressing your back against the comforter, your thighs squeeze together. with another vexed sigh, you say the most random movie that comes immediately to mind. “halloween.”
“pft. basic.”
“wha— you’re the one who asked.”
“oh, doll i’m just joking. but anyway, you like slasher movies, yeah?”
for whatever reason, the more you talked to this total stranger, you start to feel a sudden uncanny stir delve around your stomach. you weren’t scared, yet at least, but it was oddly peculiar. his voice sounds a bit familiar the more you listen to it. with how teasing the caller on the other line appeared, it was strangely intriguing. you kind of didn’t wanna hang up anymore, besides this party you were at was quite … not the best.
“not really. i am a jamie lee curtis fan though, i only watched because i make fun of the deaths.” you mumble.
“hmmm,” the voice hums through the other end. it’s as if he’s pondering what his next choice of words will be to you. “so…you got a boyfriend?”
you were taken aback by how abrupt the change of subject was. the man on the other end laughs at your awkward silence before you finally speak.
“no, and it’s not like it’s any of your business.”
“easy, girl. i’m just curious. besides, what if i wanna ask ya out?”
you grow quiet again before rubbing your neck, you were growing a bit hot.
“whatever. no, i don’t have a … boyfriend.”
“ooh. you hesitated there.”
you grumble. “shut up. i’m hanging up.”
the man immediately replies with a chortle.
“wait, wait. heh, serious though. you never told me your name, doll face.”
with an eye roll, you utter, “why do you wanna know my name?”
“because i wanna know who i’m looking at.”
“what?”
“what?”
each word he spoke breaks through the phone due the deep mess of his voice. a few rough sparks from his dialogue punctures through the soundbox of the device. again, he did sound oddly familiar. you just couldn’t put your foot on it.
the man chuckles before responding in a more sly tone—changing the subject again.
“you know doll, you sound kind of out of breath. call me crazy, but before i called you, were you playing with yourself?”
your legs suddenly squeeze shut, you were wearing one of your borrowed hoodies and shorts underneath. any sane person would have hung up eons ago, but for whatever reason—you felt your heartbeat start to race. the more you listened to the deep voice on the other end, the more you started to grow more curious. what’s wrong with playing around for a little bit? besides, what’s the worst thing that could happen—you dying?
you scoff, thinking this was nothing more than a dumb prank call—you decided that playing along wouldn’t hurt. you had nothing else to do anyway.
“so what if i was playing with myself?”
“i bet you didn’t even make yourself finish, doll.”
his voice, the more it spoke in that rough pitched tone—you couldn’t help but press the landline up to your ear just a bit further. you furrow your curled up brows, lowering your guard a bit. probably foolish, maybe you’d regret this later, but alas, reality wasn’t on your mind at the moment.
“are you saying you can make me finish?” you mutter, growing amused now.
“oh i know i can. i can make you get off from just from my voice alone.”
he was toying with you, but it was too late to back down. you intake a honed breath before humming.
“okay, prove it then.”
he chuckles.
“mhm. take those panties off first. actually no, slide them to the side for me.”
you really felt like you were in a movie, shamelessly at this random guy’s beck and call. as the show played in the background, you press the middle part of your thumb against the volume button to turn it down four notches. the room was practically silent now, the only noises heard were from the blaring beat drops of edm music downstairs. sprawling your legs out, you creep a shaking hand between your thighs.
the voice grows quiet, you finally move your panties toward the side before slouching back against the pillow.
“you must be really bored. talking to a random girl at the m-midnight.” you exhale.
“heh, m-maybe,” he mocks your falter. “but i’m sure you’ll keep me entertained with that cute voice of yours.”
he was so smooth. smooth as if he was prepared for every word that flew out of your mouth. as your fingers glide against your now exposed entrance, you let off a shaky breath.
he was right, out of boredom you tried to play with yourself— yet, that didn’t work out because you could never make yourself finish. your attempt was basically useless. with a frowning pout, you reply. “now what?”
“finger yourself, silly. and i wanna hear, put the phone up against that pussy for me, doll.”
he was filthy.
you felt yourself start to throb before removing the landline from against your ear and placing it right against your doused entrance.
with heavy jagged breaths becoming more irregular, the person on the other line hears the wet sloshes of your cunt up against the phone. again, he grows quiet—it’s almost like you can make out his deep attractive breaths and it makes you pulse even more.
“bet you’re so nice ‘n soaked. sounds so sloppy.”
gnawing on the softness of your bottom lip, your thumb briefly skims past the nub of your clit and you whine. you were already a bit sensitive from before, starting to stroke your fingers against it. bringing the phone back up to your ear, you ease a single finger inside. it feels warm—you were slick, coating your own finger with a nice amount of your obscene arousal. it doesn’t take long for you to start to pant, slithering another finger inside of your cunt before moaning. it fits nicely, nice and snug.
“you sound so pretty. i want you to imagine those are my fingers, pretty girl. can ya do that?”
“y-yeah,” you start to stammer, feeling a sudden spongey texture inside of you—you gasp, not expecting to reach your sweetened g-spot so soon. it was a mere bumpy texture, gloopy gummy walls involuntarily accepting your two slender fingers with an open gesture. “fuck, ‘m still a bit sensitive.”
he guffaws lowly.
“yeah, i bet you are. poor baby can’t even make herself cum.”
you swallow, the playfulness in his voice making your thighs start to tremble a bit. with relaxed fingers stretching throughout your walls, you focus on your breathing. each pant that came out of your hot breaths seemed like it was gonna be your last. after a while, your toes start to curl up in pure pleasure—you moan, feeling a sudden rush of weightlessness nirvana overtake you.
“find your g-spot for me. tell me when you do.”
“i- i already found it,” you whine, a sheaf of nerves that store inside of your pussy pulsating at a rapid speed. your head throws itself back as you’re just moaning melodically. “fuck, why don’t you just come over ‘n finish for me already.”
the voice laughs again.
“yeah? you want me to come over instead? maybe i should use my tongue since your fingers are so useless, dollface.”
at this point, you didn’t really care. maybe making simple rational decisions today just wasn’t in your favor. the eerie voice, each second you spent listening to it the more aroused you became. maybe getting off to a pure stranger’s voice was embarrassing but you were feening. the air felt suddenly thick. so thick you could cut it with a knife. with your bottom lip being chewed on like gum, you briskly shiver. cold, wintry air wafts against your skin and you moan for the nth time. an unforeseen chill runs down your spine before you hold back yet another whine.
“f-fuck, just come ‘n finish for me. i can’t do it. please.”
he grows quiet for a solid good four seconds before replying in a cheeky tone.
“okay. turn around.”
your panting stops and instantly, you turn your head the other way—of course, no one was there. figures, the only things your eyes were met with was the wooden headboard. with a disappointed grimace, pulling your occupied fingers out of your cunt, you turn back around. as you’re about to speak into the phone again, you open your mouth before pausing.
there, you’re met face first with what appears to be some guy in an infamous ghostface costume. he was tall, staggering inches on him before you don’t see one but two. they both had the same getup, ghoulish ghost mask, a long black robe, and the same spectral, tilting head-stance.
one of them takes off a mask and it’s suguru geto, your roommate.
your eyes concisely widen. once he yanks off the mask, his silky well-kept black strands fly loose. no wonder the voice sounded a tad bit familiar. the other removes his mask and it was nanami, two of them—now you really felt like you were in a movie. “you always did say how much you liked scream,” and then you glance at nanami who had a sheepish expression. “don’t be shy now, someone’s gotta help ya finish.”
“o-oh,” you remember, sitting up against the bed. now you were embarrassed. just a few seconds ago, you were getting off to your roommate’s voice. suddenly, you felt even more hot. you did end up talking their ear off about your adoration for the beloved franchise, ranting about your cute little ghostface obsession.
truth be told though, you didn’t know they’d make it a sheer reality for you. the two of them get on the bed towards you before nanami brings a gloved hand to your chin. he strokes your chin softly, and geto moves underneath.
“sorry princess,” he whispers. “suguru wanted to scare you but i told him we should just show ourselves,” and as he’s speaking, you get lost in his soft, honeydew eyes. such gentle compared to geto who was a bit more—crazed. “he didn’t scare you too bad, did he?”
you moan once you feel geto run a thumb against your already exposed cunt. with a firm head shake, you huff. “no, n-not really.”
“aw what. i thought i was pretty scary,” and you whimper out once he blows against your folds. for a concise moment, geto stares up at you—dark eyes keeping a strong gaze on you. “tell us what you want, pretty girl. you want us to help you finish?”
you nod, feeling geto spread your legs apart further.
nanami, with a gloved hand purses your lips together, forming them into a tight squeeze before humming. “words, princess. use them, okay?”
the more you feel geto’s breath fan against your clit, teasing you—you were about to go feral. you stare up at nanami before letting off a sweet whine. “i- i want you both to help me finish,” you stutter out, stumbling over your pathetic words like you’d stumble with an untied shoe. “make me cum, please kento.”
he leans in to kiss your forehead and you hear geto scoff underneath. “i’m the one between your legs but whatever,” and you feel his soft lips kiss against your pussy. “kento, keep her distracted for me, will ya?”
“you’re so pretty,” he mutters, lightly lifting up your chin. as he wore black gloves—the fabric gently brushes against your lip, popping a thumb into your mouth. he doesn’t expect for you to happily take it in his mouth, sucking on it. “oh,” he breathes, a bit speechless. you stare into nanami’s eyes, swirling your tongue around his thumb in such an erotic way. lowly hooded eyes stare at him the entire time, you moan once you feel the flatness of geto’s tongue run against your sweet clitoral hood. his tongue—the texture of it was so cold, the moment he digs in he makes you know the pure definition of sloppy. all with his tongue, he slowly flicks it against your nub before delving his tongue deeper between your soddened folds. nanami pulls your chin to face him again before softly purring, “don’t look at him, look at me pretty girl.”
as your eyes focus back towards nanami, you could already feel your legs quavering. you felt hot, the lewd way geto drags his tongue against your pussy makes you gasp out three strained second puffs of air.
“k-kento,” you moan, pawing your hands at the low part of his robe. he watches, lowering his head at you before you reach there. nanami’s bulge, he has an abashed expression as he realizes what you were fondling at. “take it off.”
“ah, ask nicely,” he coos. your lips were now glossed with your own spit he smears against you as he pulls his gloved thumb out of your mouth. even though nanami was more tame than geto, his voice had a bit more dominance in it. he grabs your chin gently, cocking his head toward the side. “tell me what you want ‘n i’ll give it to you.”
your legs felt like they were standing on its last few hinges—geto’s tongue runs down your slit, taking a moment to depart his lips and spit on it, only to then lap it up again. a few annoyed grunts escape out of him partially due to his long strands of hair getting in the way. “so sweet,” he mutters, you whimper once he prods two fingers against your outer entrance. every few seconds he’d kiss near your thighs, leaving a few bite bite marks before focusing back towards your folds. “mhm.”
barely even able to keep focus, you gaze back up at nanami who’s standing near the edge of the bed—you’re laid back against the pillows with geto between your thighs. finally, a sweet mewl of words leave your glazed lips. “i- i wanna taste, ‘ken. wanna suck you off,” and he gives you a playful eyebrow raise, prying his pink lips open a few inches apart before you correct yourself. “pretty please.”
“better,” he murmurs, a hand of his reaching towards your head to give it a good pat. “good girl. go ahead, lift it up ‘n enjoy the meal.”
with a soft slackened sigh, you lift up the obsidian black robe. you’re met with ripped jeans, for some reason you just figured he’d already be sprung out for you. as geto’s still lapping up every drop of your taste, you unzip his fly before yanking down his pants. you were so impatient— and with geto’s demented pace, you were getting close. he chuckles, watching you struggle with the zipper for a bit before finally reaching near his boxers. they were a cerulean blueish color, his bulge was just appetizing. the entire shape of it, you felt yourself starting to drool the longer your eyes made direct contact against it. so rounded and full. with clammy hands, you tug them down before his thick cock springs out.
“it’s okay,” he whispers with a nod, watching you glance up him—a silent gesture as a way of asking if you could go further. nanami brings a hand towards the crown of your head, gingerly massaging his fingers through the crevices of your scalp. “you can be a little messy for me.”
a wretched whine that was raw rips from your throat once you feel geto’s tongue latch against your cunt. by now, he was sucking against your folds. the squelches were so sloppy, a hand of yours grab onto his hair for leverage and he shoots you a sly smile.
“don’t be shy girl, yank on it.”
dark pooled irises linger into yours for a long time before you get a good grip of geto’s hair, dragging him closer towards your entrance. over and over and over.
he giggles, hot breath ghosting against your folds and you throb even more. with dilated irises staring back towards nanami, you wrap your free hand around his length—he was so thick, such full balls that you just wanted to run your tongue all across it. he had a few veins skim down his beige, weighty cock. you could make out a few drops of lustrous pre-cum that decorates near his very tip. “u-ugh,” he shakes, the warmth that your tongue provides has him smothering his lips together. nanami watches, you’re slow but deadly.
pursing your lips together, you gradually start to sink him into your mouth.
geto’s still between your thighs, shoving two fingers in and out of you now—he surrounds your clit with his mouth, the suction he creates with just his lips was brutal. you’re moaning, even whilst your noises were pretty much muffled due to nanami’s fat cock. “easy,” he whispers, tapping a thumb against your cheek. “no teeth, okay? you’re doing s-so good.”
nanami groans, goading the same thumb against your cheek before you inch yourself further and further down. he has a shy smile at the way your hair forms in musses due to his tight grip. within no time, your throat’s already stuffed and few droplets of your own saliva trickles down the sides of your mouth. geto’s still making sure to thrust his gloved digits in and out of your soaked cunt and you don’t know which roommate to focus on.
“m-mphm,” was all you could manage out, your legs in a swift spread-eagle position. as you’re outstretched, you feel yourself about to cum. you’d recognize that feeling anywhere—the feeling when a swelling pool of heat residing inside your stomach tickles throughout your entire abdomen. that same feeling of nirvana courses through your veins as you’re now leisurely bobbing your head. every time you pull on geto’s long hair, he grunts—spanking your clit in response and that only causes you to whine for more. nanami strokes your face as he starts to feel his dick prod against the roof of your mouth. for a split second as you’re breathing through each nostril—you gag, long lashes fluttering in sync together.
your legs couldn’t hold still, geto’s continuously pushing you towards your limit before you whimper out. your tongue lathers over the splotches of pre-cum that paints nanami’s tip a pretty shade of snowy white.
he just couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, especially not with a face like that.
low eyes, sheepish smile, furrowed eyebrows. you’re convulsing profusely all in geto’s mouth, the sides of your thighs occasionally hitting against his face and he titters. “such a sloppy m-mouth,” nanami inhales deeply, and he starts to gently drag your head against his cock. he’s got your mouth filled with so many inches—your cheeks were all puffed up from his immense length, sheeny slobber emanating all down the sides of your mouth before he pants. “gonna make such a mess ‘n your mouth, princess. ‘s that what you want?”
you nod, feeling the vein that runs down his girthy cock twitch in your mouth. you moan, he’s feeling weightless—you’ve got his knees trembling, a hand’s still attached to your head like velcro before gyrating your tongue all over the crownhead of his shaft. “such a pretty face,” he gruffs lowly, swiftly pulling your hair side to side to take every inch. “s-shame i gotta ruin it a little.”
even nanami’s dirty talk was tame— it was cute to witness, the way his blond brows would tug into a furrow. he’s so pent up, and out of nowhere—you feel a sudden rush erupt within your cunt. before you could even react, you end up cumming hard. it shoots out of you like a rough wave, it’s such pure bliss that it takes you a few seconds to realize. geto’s making out with your pussy, slowly sliding his two protected fingers in and out of your sopping wet entrance and you shudder. “what a fuckin’ mess,” he hums, taking sight at how saturated you were. as geto laps his tongue against your folds once more, he stares back up at you and nanami. “aw. look at you two,” and he leans down to kiss your forehead. “slobbin’ everywhere, messy girl you are.”
your eyes go back up towards nanami, he’s sweating.
he felt as if the fabric of his robe stuck against his skin. while he’s holding it up with one hand, you sneak a stare at his abs, perfect washboard abs that looked quintessentially sculpted against his body. “g-gonna cum,” and he stares at geto, growing a bit flustered once all attention’s on him. “suguru, don’t just stand there. p…praise her.”
geto scoffs, kneeling beside you on the bed before moving a few strands from your face. “so bossy,” he grits before giving you your second head pat. he leans up close to your ear, grabbing the voice changer again and brings it up to his lips. “c’mon, doll. make ‘ken cum, yeah. doin’ so good for us. you’re gonna make him whine for you, heh.”
nanami’s legs felt like mush, he throws his head back, his long black robe syncing with his movements before he’s gently pulling your head against his thick cock. he shudders, welts of twinges close in on the undersides of his thighs before he finally finishes. it builds up gradually before you find him pouring into your mouth with a nice amount of parching hot cum. it’s hot, a good mass of satiny ropes coat the flat middle part of your tongue and you moan. “f-fuuuck,” he heaves through heavy lungs, it’s still trickling, you savor the taste. it’s bitterly sweet. he pulls out of your mouth before letting off a tremulous sigh. “good girl, f-fuck.”
“aw. don’t hog her, give me attention too,” geto sneers, softly grabbing you by the neck, making you face him. with his right hand, he squeezes your lips together with a rigid grip. “ah, don’t swallow yet. c’mere.”
with half-lidded eyes, you do—leaning into his touch before geto plants his warm lips onto yours. you’re caught by surprise for the umpteenth time today, prying your mouth open for him and he lolls his tongue down your throat. you let off a whine, feeling his gloved hands rub against every inch of your body. immediately, he tastes the candied flavor of nanami’s cum and it makes him groan. he didn’t even bat an eye—you return the kiss, feeling geto’s hand slither further down towards your ass. he caresses it, giving it a mean spank to make you moan out in ecstasy.
after a while, he pulls away, humming at nanami. “ken ken, don’t be so shy. you want a taste too?”
“yeah,” he mutters, needy eyes staring at your lips that were lubricated with your own sheeny spit. “can i?”
you nod, and he’s so gentle with you. a hand nimbly wraps around your throat before he brings you into a deeper kiss. geto’s still for his hands on you, strumming his fingers near your pulled to the side panties. you let off a soft pant, feeling the spiral of nanami’s tongue go against yours. he tastes sweet — savory even, his flavor was purely mouthwatering. a thumb drags down the passageway of your throat before he pulls away. it’s slow, a polished concoction of saliva departs from each mouth and you whimper. you were throbbing, desperate for more and they both knew that. if this— whatever this was was some sort of movie, you never wanted it to end. you never wanted the credits to roll because you felt like you were floating on cloud nine.
with the two of them, you were stretched in every way possible. if you could compare who was bigger, actually you couldn’t. throughout multiple positions, you felt as if you were gonna snap in half. they had you so stupid. pink tongue rolled out, full lungs of oxygen departing out such hot breaths of air, you were the definition of stupid.
cockdrunk at its finest. each orgasm that got ruthlessly snatched out of you had your head spinning, heart racing entirely.
you felt like something was creeping up behind your shoulder, chills. whenever you’d coax out yet another teeth-shattering orgasm, all you felt was stone cold chills. time after time, it felt like pure bliss—you thought you were in a whole new world, barely even able to move your thighs an inch. being sandwiched between the two of them, perhaps you were a little greedy but you just couldn’t get enough. geto’s degrading you whilst nanami’s whispering sweet pleasures into your ear, you’ve never felt more soaked.
you didn’t wanna stop—
currently, you’re straddling nanami. he’s got two rough hands gripping your waist, intaking every inch of your pretty physique. his stare sends you butterflies, his shaft was underneath you and only then pulls out. with a cute, “phew,” he swipes a sheet of sweat that expands across his forehead. you rode him so good that he couldn’t even figure out what to say. he was so flustered, tips of his ears a reddish hot before he watches geto creep behind you. “think she wants more, suguru.”
“bet she does,” he whispers, bringing a few sweet kisses near the inner corners of your neck.
you’re promptly sat up straight. the brief sounds of booming speakers roar from downstairs as you wrap your arms around nanami. geto licks near your collarbone before purring seductively. “say, doll. how ‘bout you try to take us both? would ya like that?” and with a gloved hand he gives your ass a squeeze. “wanna be the final girl ‘n prove your worth? our final girl?”
without an inkling of hesitation—you nod, mewling out a sweet, “yes, yes jus’ hurry up, sugu. ‘m still c…close.”
“so wet, so impatient,” he whispers once more, and with two hands he makes you sit up from nanami. you gulp—swallowing whatever sanity you had left, preparing to be quite literally double stuffed with your roommates. you aren’t so sure why, but the fact that they both still had on their ghoulish costumes made you pulsate a bit more. geto’s helping you slide back down onto nanami’s length before slowly making his way into you also. “god, you’re so hot in here. gonna fuckin’ swallow me whole.”
you moan, everything goes so slow—your cunt was a ticking time bomb. you clamp down on each before slumping into nanami’s chest. you’re met with kind eyes, he strokes your forehead before kissing the bridge of your nose, panting in a hushed voice. “eyes on me, princess. just relax.”
you wriggle a bit at the positioning—being on nanami’s lap, geto directly behind you, you’re quite literally being filled in every orifice by thick inches of cock. nanami’s words were soothing, filling up your tummy with a pool of fluttering butterflies. you keep your eyes on him, clenching down on geto a bit before you hear him hiss in response. “ugh. doll open up for me a little m-more, yeah.”
his voice was deepened heavily—you let off a cute gasp once they’re both finally in and a few shaky breaths exit past your lips. “hold my hand, i got you,” nanami coos, and that’s when geto starts to rock. he had more control between the two of you, the grip on your hips was firm and you let off a sweet babble. each individual entrance was stuffed, you swallow the invisible lump in your throat as you start to feel the sweltering friction of your thighs slap against nanami. “you’re so pretty like this,” and he kisses the temple of your cheek.
every kiss presented from nanami makes your heart race—being sandwiched between nanami and geto, you really did feel like the main character.
your lip tremors, grinding back and forth between each of them, you feel geto wrap his thick fingers around your neck.
whilst you’re still straddling nanami—you moan again and again, feeling a free hand of geto’s spank your ass. the stretch that you continuously felt had your mouth watering. you heard the harmonic pap pap pap’s until it rang throughout your ears. “fuck, ya like being stuffed don’t you, pretty girl? feel full enough?” geto rasps, pressing his body right up against you. you felt his hot temperature go against your skin. making you feel every amount of his heat. your brain’s swelling up with fog. giving him an inert nod, you hear him click his tongue. “didn’t say to nod your head, doll. i wanna hear that sweet voice.”
whenever geto lowers his voice a bit, you feel the abrupt tension arise between your legs. leaning against nanami, you whine out a, “hngh y-yesss, ‘m so full, sugu. want more, stuff me more.”
“let me stuff your mouth too then.”
and before you could come up with a reply, geto removes his glove—shoving your mouth with two fat digits. he grunts, watching as you’re so compliant with your throat being filled with his fingers. nanami stares at the entire scene in front of him, his dick idly twitching inside of you. your tongue runs down his fingers before your own spit starts to seep down the corners of your lips. it was messy—you were messy. your hips jitter and judder and you knew with having both holes stuffed you weren’t gonna last that much longer. it was probably the dozenth orgasm your pussy’s been introduced with and you could feel the creeping pleasure brew up inside your abdomen.
“suguru, ‘m gonna cum.” nanami groans, bringing his own hands to wrap around your waist. you lessen your tense from his touch before gagging a bit from the prodding of geto’s fingers way back into your throat. “she’s s-squeezing me so good.”
geto snickers, making eye contact with nanami. “are you? ‘ken, you’re more whinier than usual today.”
“shut up.” he grumbles, slapping a hand over his face in embarrassment — nanami wasn’t so known to be all flustered and abashed, but whenever he was, it was so cute.
you’ve still got a mouthful of geto’s fingers before he pulls them out only to shove them into his own mouth. he hums, sharp hips snapping into you repeatedly as his other free hand tightens its secured grasp around your hip. “mhm,” he groans, feeling himself reaching his peak also. “you taste like a final girl. so sweet like candy.”
with the piston of geto’s vigorous hips, you’re so loose that you feel the fleeting sensation of your cunt gaping.
its cavernous, you jerk forward against nanami before seconds later — geto groans, abruptly finishing two seconds early. even his moans were pretty, he tugs his fingers out of your mouth to wrap them around your neck. strands of black hair glue to his forehead and he puffs out a single breath. licking a stripe near your neck, he feels thick volumes of his cum ooze into your hole. it’s so sticky, you bring your hips to a slowing halt before nanami shoots inside you too.
“f-fuck, sugu,” nanami grunts, feeling his thighs stick underneath you. he was panting heavily, each breath that ran from his lips sounding more and more wearied. “damn, so m-much.”
everything spurts into you at once. they mirror each other inside of you perfectly. callused stubby fingertips of geto’s squeeze your neck softly, watching as you’re just being filled with bulky strings of cum, it floods your cunt until it drizzles further into your womb. you’re drooling, it feels so hot, sweltering hot. it sticks against your entrance before your arms wrap around nanami. “so f-full,” you whimper, and he returns the gesture by brushing his thumb against your waist. droopy eyes hang low before nanami pulls you into another deep kiss. you decided—this was far better than some dumb party. the cottony fabric of the ghostface robe pricks against your skin as you lean into his heinous touch.
you shift your weight against nanami’s lap, feeling geto pull out before he leans down between your legs. “spread your legs,” he mutters, and in the midst of your tongue roaming down nanami’s throat, you part your thighs—gasping once you feel geto’s own tongue lap against the freshly created mess. he makes little tiny licks, tasting the ropes of crisp cum that’s sloppily easing out of every entrance—you pulsate before he chortles, warm breath ventilating against your sobbing pussy. “so messy. don’t want any spillin’ out. gotta push it back in.”
you’re moaning, after a while you break away from nanami’s lips before he strokes your cheek lovingly, a cute drowsy look before he huffs, “did you hear me, pretty?” and he gently pokes your cheek. “you always do this..”
confusion hits you before your eyes suddenly open—you jolt up, both of your roommates beside you, gawking at you with a look of deadpan. you’re leaning against geto, the third movie of scream playing in the background—it was near the ending where the killer was being revealed. you sit up, staring down at your legs and you were fully clothed—there was no geto eating between your legs, no being stuffed with nanami, nothing.
“hellooo, earth to roomie,” geto waves his hand in your face, you stare at him before furrowing your brows. “you okay? you fell asleep on me again. what’s got ya so spooked? looks like ya seen a ghost.”
so it was a dream?
a mere glimpse of your lewd imagination—?
you have a sudden sheepish look, running your fingers near the nape of your neck. “huh. oh, i’m fine. i thought the movie would be over by now.”
nanami rubs your back. “we still have like twenty minutes left,” and then he looks at you with a concerned look. so gentle—so tender. “are you sure you’re okay? we can watch a rom-com if you want.”
“i’m okay,” you insist, slumping your head back against geto.
that was weird, out of all the dreams you’ve had throughout your life—none of them ever felt as surreal as that one. for some reason, you were still aroused though, you were a bit out of breath and feeling chills all over your body.”
abruptly, your phone rings,
“sugu, can you pass me my phone?” you sigh, trying to relax. you were pretty bummed you weren’t at that party getting stuffed with your two roommates but instead—in your generic dorm watching a scary movie.
he hands you the phone, grabbing the remote to turn it down a few notches.
once you take it, succinctly, your eyes scan across the screen—it reads that it’s from an unknown number. not really thinking much, you decide to answer, swiping the green button to answer. “um, hello?”
“hello.”
“hi,” you rub your eyes. “can i help y-”
“what’s your favorite scary movie?”
rolling your eyes, you peer at your two roommates beside you, nudging them and peeling the phone away from your ear for a moment. “very funny, suguru.”
geto gives you a look of confusion and nanami mimics the same. he shrugs, averting his eyes back towards the movie. “very funny what.”
and suddenly your laid back, unbelieving expression was expressed with a weird feeling. if it wasn’t them then who—
that same chill eerily creeps up your spine before you put the phone back near your ear. it’s that same low voice you heard from before, each word it speaks pitches deeper before you grow quiet at its final haunting response,
“oh baby, i’m not suguru or nanami.”
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p3terparker · 1 year
Text
𝗯𝗮𝗯𝘆 𝗺𝗲 - 𝗽𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿
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𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: peter wants to be babied.
𝘄/𝗰: 0.5k
𝗮/𝗻: hey guys!! it has been nearly a year since i’ve last written and i just wanna say i’m sorry for leaving for so long </3 please do bear with me, this may not be that good judging by how long it’s been since i’ve last written. i hope you enjoy though! also for everyone who has requested something, i haven’t forgotten about you! i’m getting to those soon :)
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“please hold me” 
it’s nearly 1am and you’re sprawled out on your bed watching some random movie that was playing on tv. you’ve been up waiting for hours for peter to come by after patrol, and now he’s finally here sneaking in through your window.
“are you okay baby? you finished up pretty late” you question softly as you take off his mask and brush his hair out of his face.
“i’m fine. i just want you to hold me” he says tiredly and practically puts all of his body weight on you, causing you both to fall back onto your bed.
adjusting yourselves to get more comfortable, you’re now laid back on your pillow as you hug peters large frame while his face is nuzzled in your chest.
you two lay silently as you rub his back until you decide to break the silence.
“you know, you’re still in your suit. you’re getting my bed dirty.”
“you just want me to take it off so you can see me naked”
“you’re done” you say before attempting to push him off of you. peter quickly caught your hands before you could even try.
“how did you–”
“i’m spider-man, baby”
“clearly” you chuckle, referring to him still being in his suit.
“since you want to see me naked so bad, i’ll take it off” he groans as if it’s the hardest task in the world. “happy now?”
“very. now come lay back down”
you don’t have to tell him twice. he quickly gets back into the position you two were in before and enjoys the warmth and comfort you bring him.
“you’re so perfect petey, did you know that?”
“mmm” he groans into as he nuzzles his face further into your chest, enjoying the sudden compliment.
“i mean seriously. you’re so smart, so strong, so caring and so funny. you being handsome is just the cherry on top”
“stoppp” he whines. “i’m blushing.”
“okay fine, i’m done”
“nooo, i didn’t mean it! keep going please” he cries as he lifts up his head to look at you.
“you are truly such a big baby”
“i’m your big baby. now continue please, i love being praised by you.”
how could you deny him?
“i love how cute you are. you have the prettiest brown hair and eyes. your face is perfectly sculpted too. i don’t know how i got blessed with the most handsome boyfriend in the world.” 
“mmm” he groans again in complete ecstasy. hearing your compliments is like music to his ears.
“you’re so cute, i just want to squish your cheeks” you say before lifting his head up slightly and squishing his cheeks together.
you cannot believe he’s letting you baby him like this.
“aww petey, you’re so adorable” 
“thank you” he says with a pink tint on his cheeks as he rests his head on your chest again, suddenly feeling sleepy.
you two sat in silence for a few more minutes and he peacefully drifted to sleep.
you were definitely going to make fun of him for tonight in the morning.
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mysicklove · 7 months
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summary: Sukuna tries to teach Yuuji self-defense, but of course, he happens to forget how helpless the toddler is.
cw: mentions of death/kidnapping, reader gets called helpless
wc: 1.4k
a/n: i love them so much. its so fun to write this au!!
big brother au masterlist
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When you walk into the living room, you can’t help but smile. Truly, was it a rarity to see Sukuna and Yuuji getting along nicely. Of course, Yuuji was always sweet, but Sukuna was a brat and found that hanging out with a four-year-old was not really his cup of tea. Or at least, that’s what he proclaims to you.
Yuuji throws a punch at his brother’s hand, brows furrowing in concentration. Sukuna sits on the floor, cross-legged, and in front of Yuuji, who was standing at his full height. The older sighs, “Well, that was pathetic. Harder.”
The boy nods, obviously trying to hold back a smile. He wanted to seem just as serious as Sukuna did, but it was hard for the toddler due to how smiley he always seemed to be. But he lets out a tiny huff and brings his fists up to his face. Then, he makes a little “Hii-ya!” noise and slams his fist into Sukuna’s open palm.
“Okay, this ain’t working. Fuck, how are we of the same bloodline? I was not this weak,” Sukuna complains to himself, pulling his hands down. 
You roll your eyes and step into the room. “Maybe because he is a four-year-old. Don’t think it’s his job to be strong,” You say, and Sukuna’s eyes flicker to you. A smile pulls at his lips, and the man begins to stand up from the floor to greet you. Yuuji beats him to it though, letting a high-pitched squeal in excitement before running over to you.
You grin at the noise, watching the boy waddle over to you with bright eyes. You crouch down to his level and greet him, ruffling his hair. Then you pinch at his cheeks, ignoring the whine of complaint from Yuuji. “You are way too cute to fight! Huh, no fighting for you. You just gotta stay this small forever!” You coo, peppering kisses to the boy’s cheeks and forehead. 
The boy lets out a fit of giggles and a “Noooo! Wanna be big like Kuna!”
You shake your head, a fake pout on your face. “But Sukuna isn’t cute at all,” You half-heartedly complain, sparing a glance at your lover.
He walks up to the two of you and picks up Yuuji by the back of his hood, causing the kid to squirm in the air. Sukuna pays no mind to it, instead looking toward you, who is standing back up. “Don’t lie,” He scolds, and you raise your eyebrows, “I am adorable.”
You chuckle at him, rolling your eyes, and he in return presses a quick kiss to your lips. His brother begins to whine in complaint, causing the older to roll his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, quit whining. I’ll put you down in a second, little pest, but you need actually to put in some effort to fight me.”
“Okay!” Yuuji exclaims, and Sukuna sighs. Yuuji was so agreeable. When Sukuna was that age, he was supposedly a brat who argued with everyone, or at least that is what he had heard. Yuuji was strangely different than him. He didn’t know if he minded it or not.
Sukuna puts the boy down and sits again on the floor. He glances at you, who is taking a seat on the couch. Your eyes seem to read, play nice. It makes Sukuna want to roll his eyes, but the kid distracts him again, his tiny hands placed on the knees of Sukuna’s sweatpants while he grins up at his brother. The little beast had no concept of personal space, and the older of the two swears he can feel his brother practically breathing on him.
Sukuna pushes the boy off, sending him falling on his backside. “Sukuna,” You warn, but he ignores you. Yuuji only frowns and gets back up again, climbing back over to the other.
“Pretend im a kidnapper,” Sukuna demands, straightening his back and moving closer, taunting the small boy. “I am a very bad man who is going to take you home with me and lock you in my–”
“Sukuna!” You interrupt before Yuuji could hear his brother’s unneeded explanation. Yuuji seemed to stare owlishly at his brother, a little nervous but mostly confused about what he was talking about.
The man grins at you and shrugs his shoulders. But he abides to your wish with a scoff. “...Do bad things to you,” He weakly finishes. “Now, defend yourself!” 
Yuuji’s hands go up into his mouth, tiny fingers playing with his lips, and he shakes his head with a giggle. “But big brother will protect me!”
Sukuna pinches the bridge of his nose, and you let out a small laugh. “I’m dead.” Yuuji’s face visibly falls. “The kidnapper killed me because you were too weak to defend yourself and save me. Now look, Y/N is all alone and helpless because of you.”
Your mouth opens in shock at the bluntness of it all. Yuujis eyes are wide, and he goes silent for a second. Then, his mouthline begins to wobble, and his eyes begin to water. “Kuna gone?”
Sukuna begins to backtrack, not wanting to deal with his brother’s tears. He stumbles toward the child, eyes wide. “It’s a hypothet–”
Yuuji’s scream sends you scrambling to your feet and over to the pair immediately. You grab Yuuji by the waste and swing him around, a huge, forced smile on your face. “And boom!” The force of it all startles the small boy, and he pauses his cries for a moment with owlish eyes while you continue to swing him around. “Y/N comes in and saves the day! And guess what, Sukuna was just sleeping!”
You place Yuuji on your side and help wipe his tears away. Only about two or three fell before you grabbed him, but still, his eyes seemed to be slightly puffy. The boy continues to sniffle, hands rubbing at his eyes. “Just sleeping?”
Before you could answer, Sukuna tears the boy from your arms. He holds him up in front of him by both of Yuuji’s underarms, causing the boy to dangle in the air. “I’m offended that you would think I would die so easily, brat.”
A smile begins to crawl up Yuuji’s face, but he shakes his head, and his voice holds a whine to it.  “Don’t. Don’t like it.”
Sukuna sighs before placing the boy on his hip. Yuuji seems to find comfort there, burying his head into his brother’s shirt. It was rare to be held by Sukuna, and Yuuji obviously wanted to soak up all the time he has up there. “Yeah, I don’t think I would like being dead either. Luckily, your brother is the strongest, so you won’t have to worry bout that, yeah?”
Yuuji nods into his brother’s side, grinning and possibly wiping snot onto Sukuna. You take this time also to add your say in the matter. “And I’m not helpless.” You glance at the man who was just remembering what he said in the moment.
“C’mon, maybe just a little?” He teases, and you step closer to the pair, fighting back a smile. But before you could retort another teasing bite, the boy interjects his opinion.
“Nuh-uh! Y/N saved us. You sleeping, Kuna!”
You fake gasp in realization of his words, and Yuuji’s eyes light up. “Oh my, you are so right, Yuuji! Don’t you think he is the helpless one?” You coax, and Yuuji seems to lean toward you at your excited tone.
He nods his head rapidly, not really knowing what he is agreeing to but just trying to mimic your actions. “Kuna helpless!”
Sukuna rolls his eyes at the two of you and pinches the boy’s cheek, looking down at his brother. “Says the one who had a whole breakdown over the word–”
“Sukuna.”
Sukuna takes a deep breath and glances at you and Yuuji’s big dark eyes. He shakes his head in defeat, “Yeah, guess I am, ain’t I?”
You crack a smile, and Yuuji squeals in delight, digging his tiny hands into his brother’s shirt. Sukuna ruffles the boy’s hair.
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amsznn · 2 months
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hey girl
Can you write a blurb on how matt was hanging out with his girlfriend while nick and chris were at tara’s party?
Thank you!
RATHER BE WITH YOU - m.sturniolo
warnings: none
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“matt?” you raised your head to look down at your boyfriend who had made it his mission to completely entrap your body with his.
you only got a muffled ‘hm’ in response to which you sighed. “baby can you get up? you’re sorta crushing me.” you tried pushing his shoulders up to which he resisted and only hugged you tighter.
“matt.”
“hm.”
“i need to pee.” matt only rose his head from the crevice of your neck to respond. “inaminute.” he slurred out all at once.
you stayed there for a good five minutes before matt rolled off you. you jumped up the second he did and RAN to the bathroom.
when you were done you made your way back to matt’s bedroom where you found him scrolling on his phone.
“weren’t you just sleeping?” you ask while plopping down next him. “yeah, but i was rudely interrupted.” matt shot you a glare but you could only roll your eyes.
“oh look, nick sent you a snap.” you say while clicking on the notification for him. when it opened, it revealed a selfie of chris, nick, and tara.
“i can’t believe you didn’t go, looks like so much fun.” you eyed the picture a bit more before opening the next few snaps that were sent, that were instead short videos of the three having a good time.
since you weren’t really an influencer, and tara didn’t know you, you weren’t really invited but your boyfriend was but decided to stay home instead.
“i’m having fun with right here though.” matt threw his phone to the side before adjusting you guys so you were back to being on the bottom, and matt was back to being your weighted blanket.
you groaned and rolled your eyes. “matt we are not doing this again.”
matt reached up to give you a few pecks on your face before giving you one dramatic passionate kiss on your lips, ending it with a ‘MWAH.’
“i just wanna be close to you, baby.” matt frowned before going back to his spot. he smiled when you sighed, ultimately giving up trying to argue with him. instead you opted to playing with his hair, receiving a sigh of pleasure from matt.
“plus, you know i hate parties.”
-
A/N: i kinda want a bf
tags:
@junnniiieee07 @tillies33ssss @whore4matt @stellarsturns @summerl986 @inveigledvex @beccaluvschris @stingerayyy2 @bunnysturns @braindead4l @vickyzloserz @sturnzsblog
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inmaki · 23 days
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gojo making fun of your other fwb
( smut, a little smthn while i work on my nanami fic <3 ) .
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"just put it in, for fucks sake."
gojo chuckles, running his mushroom-shaped tip up and down your folds. every time he reaches your hole, he pushes his cock in just enough to breach your entrance, before pulling out and continuing his ministrations. like a fucking idiot.
"aw, y’want my dick that bad? 'need me to fill you up?" what about matsukawa?"
your expression sours, sending him an annoyed look. this was by far the first time he’s brought up his displeasure for your other friend, especially in bed.
“are you trying to make me dry?" you bark, trying to close your legs - which he immediately stops with a large hand. "if you wanna fuck, stop talking about him and hurry."
gojo rolls his eyes, despising the way you're practically defending the fucker. sure, he's just a friend too - but you were clearly his; you've always been addicted his lips against yours, his hands on your body, his cock against your cervix. now this other shithead thinks he can come and take that away?
he doesn't know how to handle it besides-
"is this how he fucks you?" suddenly, he forces only an inch or two inside you, barely thrusting in and out with a mischievous smile. a hum leaves his lips as your insides squeeze him firmly, but he's stubborn enough to hold back the urge to fill you up properly. "probably can’t reach anything, i bet even my fingers are bigger."
the audacity and immaturity of the man in front of you has you baffled. here you are, ready to be fucked into the mattress by him - and all he can do is joke about some other guy's dick length? you desperately want to scold him, tell him to fuck off - but as expected - the feeling of his fat cock not reaching where you need has your mind going blank in desperation.
"please.. just fuck me, toru."
he smirks, and without giving you any time to adjust, he's mercilessly slamming in the rest of his length so the tip presses right up against your womb. his balls smack against you from below, and you shiver at the feeling of his white pubic hair grazing your pelvis. "so i'm right? hah, what a fuckin' loser. 'course he has a small dick."
you're too busy catching your breath to hear him, and gojo smoothly takes that opportunity to throw your legs over his shoulders and press them against your chest, ensuring his cock hits your g-spot at the perfect angle. just how you like it.
the white-haired bastard can't help but smile, licking his lips at your rolled back eyes and the harmonious ah, ah, ah's that escape your throat with each brutal slam of his hips. "becoming my brainless cocksleeve as usual, so damn cute. only i can rearrange these guts, right?" he demands, bending you even further while getting right in your face.
"say it. say who owns this sloppy," thrust, "fucking," thrust, "pussy," thrust.
“you, only you!” the words tumble out of you before you can stop them.
“who?” he grinds right against your cervix, nearly pressing the tip of his nose against yours.
“sa- satoru!”
he rewards you by lowering a thumb to play with your clit, cerulean eyes staring into your very soul. “damn right. scream it louder.”
suddenly, a quiet ding! comes from your bedside table. gojo glances down to your blissed-out face, cautiously peering over to see a message from none other than the man of of the hour.
matsu: wyd? can i come over?
gojo smiles. typing in a response with one hand while the other keeps your thigh firmly against your chest.
you: yea, be quick daddy ;)
you would definitely kill him after this.
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( reblogs & comments r appreciated if u enjoy! had this idea at 2am sorry if it’s bad <\3)
© inmaki on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not cross-post, translate, copy in any way, etc.
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revasserium · 7 months
Note
can i have one were zoro realises she does things bc of truama (like doesnt speak much etc)
hold me (still)
opla!zoro; 6,680 words; slow!!!!burn, fem!reader, ex-assassin!reader, straw hat!reader, general tragic backstory/trauma, fluff, hurt/comfort, bit of angst, emotionally constipated zoro, communication? what's that?, nami playing therapist bc she's the only one with 1 iota of emotional intelligence
summary: sometimes, stillness is a virtue, and others -- a tragedy. or, in which the straw hats pick up a new member and zoro is equally intrigued and weirded out by you.
a/n: well. you guys asked for slow burn and... the burn is so slow u gotta squint to see the smoke yall. but trust. the burn does get there! pls be patient!! and i tried to combine 2 dif reqs in this one fic :)
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You are of the quiet sort. Just a shadow dancing in the periphery of their vision, and when they first met you, you’d told them it was your superpower, a soft, still smile slipping across your lips. Luffy had bought into it immediately, and the invitation was out his mouth before anyone could stop him.
“Come with us!”
“Oh…” your lips pressed into a thin line of consideration.
Zoro’s fingers itched towards his swords because something about you makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. But something else — something uncomfortable and strange, something very much like curiosity — seizes his chest and twists his stomach. Strange, he thinks, too strange.
“C’mon! It’ll be fun!”
And then, you’d smiled wider, and nodded, and that had been that.
It’s been three months since then, and you are still of the quiet sort, though it had receded a bit with time. What with Sanji’s gentle flirting and Usopp’s not-so-gentle stories and Nami’s bright, dry-humored companionship, you’d begun to “open up a bit”, so Luffy observed.
Zoro, for his part, has kept his distance. Because sometimes he still catches you at the bow of the ship, staring out across the midnight waters, still as a stone-carved statue. Still as a wooden beam — stiller, even.
“What’s with that?” he asks one day, strolling up to Nami as she traces a fine line over a new map she’s working on.
“Hm?” is her very eloquent response.
Zoro ticks his tongue against his teeth and casts his eyes about the ship, finding them drawn to the shape of you, up at the bow again, reading in the shade of the tangerine trees. Nothing moves except for the wind as it whisps through your hair and the slow scanning of your eyes as it skates across the page.
“New girl,” Zoro says, crossing his arms as Nami finally looks up at him and then off towards you.
“Why don’t you ask her yourself?”
Zoro lets out a puff of breath, unfolding his arms to glare at Nami. He finds her grinning a lopsided grin as she clicks shut her compass and puts down her pen. She leans a hip on the barrel she’d been drawing on and folds her own arms.
“Oh, you like her.”
“I’m weirded out by her. ‘S not the same thing,” Zoro snaps, but when he tries to leave, Nami blocks him with an arm and pins him with a sharp, leveling look.
“No, no, no — we’re gonna work this through.”
“No thanks, I’m good.”
“Uh-uh, you still owe me after that round of drinks the other night — remember when you bet you could drink more than me?”
Zoro narrows his eyes, “I did drink more than you.”
Nami’s grin is gleeful, “No, you didn’t. You had to be dragged back to your room after clogging up the toilet. Or do I need to show you the evidence —”
“Alright — fuck, fine. But really? This is what you’re gonna waste your favor on? You could’ve asked me to —” Zoro gestures around vaguely, “clean the bilge or something.”
Nami shrugs, looking almost too pleased, “Nope! This is what I wanna use my favor for. And, really, you think a bit of bilge water is gonna gross me out? C’mon.”
Zoro heaves a sigh and leans back against the main mast, closing his eyes.
“Fine then. Go.”
Nami sits back on the edge of the barrel.
“No, you go. Admit that you like the new girl.”
“I don’t.” He doesn’t open his eyes.
“I’ve seen you staring at her. We’ve all seen you staring at her.”
“What, that a crime now?”
Nami fights the urge to roll her eyes, “No, but I’ve never seen you try so hard to avoid someone before.”
Zoro lets out a bark of laughter, hard and mirthless, “Yeah, so that must mean I like her.”
Nami cocks her head, “It means you feel something towards her. And I’d suggest you figure it out.”
“And how’d you propose I do that?”
Nami once again waves in your direction, “Go. Talk. To her.”
Zoro lets out another breath, eyes scanning across the ship, anywhere but towards where you’re still sitting and reading, finger flipping a page in a perfect, smooth, singular motion.
And Zoro’s not blind. Blunt though he may be at times and careless as he is about most material things, he can still appreciate beauty when he sees it. And you — there’s no denying that you’re beautiful. Your strange stillness aside, when you do move, it’s with a dancer’s lissome grace, fluid lines, not a single movement wasted. When you smile, it seems to light you up from the inside, and your words, though soft, carries the well-worn weight of river stones, glittering beneath the clear, spring stream of your voice.
There’s a sharpness in your eyes, a straightness to your spine, a way of carrying yourself as if you’re afraid that one wrong move might shatter you and the entire world around you.
Sometimes when he sees you, he wonders at the hands that had sculpted you this way. He wonders at your life before they’d picked you up in Loguetown, when you’d oh-so-silently slipped up the execution platform and helped Luffy down, all the while staying free of Smoker’s watchful gaze.
The few times he’s seen you fight, he can’t help wondering if you’ve eaten some kind of devil fruit as well. No human could be so fast as that. Or be so quiet. But then again, he’d fought Kuro, and they’d seen stranger things. Still, he marvels at the way you flicker in and out of sight, slipping around the edges of battle like a dark, haunting thing, and men would drop like flies beneath your quick, quiet hands. With nary a sound or shout before their eyes roll back and their breathing is no more.
On the instances when Sanji had asked about your past, your eyes had gone misty and dark, unfocused. You’d gone still, freezing for so long that Usopp would cough just to fill the silence. And then slowly, ever so slowly, you’d turn back towards them with a small, sad smile and say:
“There’s… not much to talk about. I grew up somewhere far away, where if you didn’t keep quiet and still, bad things would happen to you. And then when those bad things happened, if you weren’t quick — the quickest of all, you’d die.”
Bad things, huh? Zoro thinks as he makes his way towards you, a hand resting on the hilt of his swords. He comes to a stop next to you and leans against one of the white planters, casually peering over your shoulder at the book in your hands.
For a long moment, neither of you move. Then, Zoro clears his throat and forces himself to speak.
“Is it good?”
It takes you a second, but eventually, you turn towards him.
“The book? Yeah, I suppose.”
“Not exactly a glowing review.”
You laugh, a soft, breathy little thing as you look back down at the page.
“It's about a girl who falls into an enchanted sleep, and a prince who wakes her up with a kiss.”
“Must’ve been one hell of a kiss.”
“Yes, and one hell of a prince.”
Zoro finds himself chuckling, his shoulders loosening as he takes another breath.
“And then what?” he asks.
“And then… he asks her to marry him.”
You run your fingers along the page, smoothing your palm over the ink and parchment. Zoro watches you, wondering, always wondering.
“What’s she say?” and it’s then that he notices his own voice, hushed and low, barely a whisper.
You look back up at him and smile a smile a sphynx would have been proud of.
“I don’t know. I haven’t gotten there yet.”
Zoro takes a breath, and the breath tastes distinctly different than all the breaths he’d taken before it. As if the world takes the breath with him, and some fundamental truth had shifted on the exhale.
The moment breaks, as moments are wont to do, when Sanji calls out for lunch and Zoro jerks out of his almost-reverie. You slowly close your book and rise to your feet, turning back to smile at him.
“C’mon, it’s lunchtime.”
Zoro nods and follows you into the kitchen, where Luffy and Usopp are already digging in, and Nami is pouring herself a drink. She spots the pair of you and catches Zoro’s eyes. A grin ticks at the edge of her lips but before she can say anything, you’re accosted by Sanji sweeping into a deep, flourishing bow, and ushering you towards the table, where he’d set your place in a manner fit for a princess.
“Where’s my setup?” Zoro asks as he drops into the seat next to you, cocking an eyebrow. Sanji shoots him an unimpressed look.
“I’m surprised you can use a fork and knife, moss-head. Just be grateful and eat up.”
Zoro scoffs but digs in nonetheless.
When next they dock, it’s on a rare, peaceful island — an island of light and books and learning, where the air smells of salt and ink and drying parchment, of unwritten words and untold stories. But it smells of a stillness too, and Zoro knows without having to ask that you’d like it here.
And you do.
He’s never seen you smile so much, never seen you so vibrant and full of life. You chat and laugh and read with a voracious hunger, and he finds himself drawn to this new, warm, moving side of you. He finds himself, more often than not, by your side, even when neither of you speak. And he basks in the comfort of the quiet that permeates the air when it’s just the two of you — him hanging in the hammock on deck, you reading by his side.
But now, there’s the soft tapping of your foot, the shuffle of pages when you flip forward to see what’s coming next, and of course the ever-present shush of the ocean as it washes against the Merry’s side.
The Log Pose needs two weeks to properly calibrate to the next island, so they’ve got time to kill.
On the fifth night, over dinner and drinks, Luffy asks the question that everyone’s been thinking since the day they’d all met you —
“So. Why’re you so still all the time? Not that it’s weird or anything — well, actually — it kind of is, but it doesn’t bother me. I’m just asking cause I'm curious!”
You look up from your half-finished wine but Zoro feels it happening, like the hush of a fan blade slicing through air, the gasp before a porcelain vase tips over and shatters. You stop. You stare. You’re frozen in every sense of the word. And he’s known you for long enough to know that you only go still as a reflex, only reach for it as a shield. Against what? He doesn’t quite know.
“It’s… something of a long story,” you say, your voice low and hoarse.
Luffy grins, smacking his lips as he sucks the meat off a chicken leg, “We’ve got tons of time! Right?” he looks around as if for validation, but everyone’s eyes are caught on you and your unnatural stillness.
Zoro shifts slightly in the seat next to you, opening his stance and turning towards you.
“Could do with a good story.”
Your eyes flash in his direction and he offers you the barest hint of a smile.
You relax, ever so slightly, drifting back in your seat, your glass cupped in the palms of your hands. And then, you begin to speak, your voice smooth and lilting, your words washing over them like the faint lull of the tides.
“When I was three, my father sold me for a barrel of beer.”
A dull clack echoes around the room and everyone turns to see Sanji hurriedly righting the thick stein he’s knocked over. Thankfully, it’d been empty.
“Sorry — I just — what?” he sounds furious but Usopp lays a hand across his arm and shakes his head.
You take a deep breath and continue, your voice oddly emotionless as you say, “The man who bought me took me to an island. It was… a dark place. A quiet place. I only learned its name after I escaped — an island called Elysium.”
Nami gasps before clapping her hands over her mouth.
“I’ve just — I’ve heard of that place before, but I thought… I thought it was just a made-up place.”
Luffy swallows hard, frowning, “What’s it like?”
Nami’s eyes flicker between you and Luffy, “Supposedly… it’s the home island for… for the most feared group of assassins in all the seas combined.”
Usopp’s eyebrows jerk up, “The most feared?”
A faint smile seeps across your lips like blood.
“Yes. The Shadows that Live.”
Everyone turns to look at you. Luffy picks up another drumstick.
“Whoa… cool name!”
Zoro hums, “I’ve heard of them before — but mostly, it was just an old wive’s tale about… shadow assassins who hunt in the dark. Mercenaries for hire. But… no one’s ever seen one before.”
“Because… once you see one, you’ll never live to tell the tale,” you say, your eyes now downcast and fixed on the glass in your hands.
“Then…” Usopp’s voice is soft, “What about… you?”
“I… I ran away.”
Silence greets you. But after a moment, Luffy spits out a bit of bone and uses it to pick at the space between his teeth, his eyes round.
“Wow! You must be pretty good to run away from an island full of shadow assassins!”
You almost laugh, his boundless trust hitting you like a punch to the stomach.
“So…” Sanji lets out a puff of silvery smoke, “the staying still thing… that’s just part of your training, yeah?”
You nod, “Something like that.”
Someday, you think, you’ll tell them about the hellscape that was Elysium island, of the long echoing halls, dark and still and silent. Of the mechanical beasts that hunted by sound and movement alone. Someday, you’ll let them know about the poisoned pomegranate seeds that they feed all the “recruits” to keep them hazy, of how you’d kept six of them suspended in your mouth and spat them all out when you’d finally made it far enough from the island to allow yourself to breathe.
“And… are these shadow assassins gonna come after us?” Nami asks, her voice careful and light.
You purse your lips, “I… I don’t know.”
Nami sighs, but a moment later, she moves to refill her drink with a slight shrug, “Well, just one more enemy to add to our growing list. Soon, we’re gonna have to post a sign-up sheet.”
At this, everyone laughs, and the tension snaps like a wounded spring.
Luffy burps loudly, patting his stomach, “I’m not worried — I mean, if you were able to run away from them once, that means you’re stronger than them, right?”
You pause, your hand hovering over the wine bottle. Zoro gently reaches over and refills your glass for you. You shift back into movement, casting him a small smile and taking a sip. The wine is cool and tangy as it hits the back of your throat. You breathe, and the world keeps spinning.
“I… I’m not sure — I’ve never fought… any of… them… before.”
“Guess we’ll find out if they try to come for you then — but you’ve got us now!” Luffy says, reaching for an apple and chomping into it, “ — Sho… you duon gotta wourry —” he licks his lips as he takes another huge bite before tossing the core towards the waste bin, “We’ve got your back!”
Nami makes a disgusted face, “Don’t talk with your mouth full, ugh.”
Sanji chuckles, tapping out his cigarette, “Yeah Luffy, mind your manners.” But his voice is full of laughter and you find yourself relaxing into the sway of the night, the swing of conversation. Beside you, Zoro refills his own glass and leans over to clink it against yours.
You turn, but he only raises his glass before taking a sip.
You mirror his movement, cradling the cup to your chest when you finish.
Later, he finds you by the tangerine trees, ghosting your fingers over their lush green leaves, dark enough to look black in the evening light.
“Hey.”
You turn, “Hi.”
Zoro sighs and looks out over the darkened waves, the moonlight refracted into a million shattered bits of sky.
“Luffy’s right, y’know.”
“What about?” you ask, joining him by the railings. The night air is cool and crisp. Behind you both, the island oozes with lamplight and laughter. Even from here, you can hear the joy, the peace that permeates the air here. It wouldn’t be a bad thing, you think, to stay here forever.
“If they come for you,” Zoro says, “we’ll have your back.”
You let out a small chuckle, looking down at your hands, “I know.”
“So,” he turns towards you, his earrings glinting in beneath the scimitar moon, “you don’t have to be afraid anymore.”
You lick your lips, and instinctively, you reach for the stillness. All the days and weeks and months with the people around you have softened you, and for that, you know you should be thankful. Still, old habits die hard, and you have to clench your fists and dig your nails into your own palms to keep from freezing completely.
You take a shivering breath and force it out again.
“Fear’s a hard habit to break.”
At this, Zoro grunts, though it sounds something like consent. The moment stretches, long and soft and taffy-sweet.
He turns back towards the sea, “Yeah,” he says, and then —
“But we can take it slow.”
You swallow hard, passed the broken shards of forgotten words lodged in your throat (you find that they all somehow taste like thank you), and you nod. Warmth tickles your cheeks and you wonder why he’s said we instead of you — and later, lying in your bed at night, staring at the moon-slatted ceiling, you wonder if he was really talking about fear or if it was something else entirely.
You don’t get a lick of sleep that night.
The next few days pass in a light, repetitive blur. You and Zoro are sent on a few short shopping trips in the city, and you’re glad for something to do that involves movement. Shocking how quickly the body adapts once the weight it’d been holding on to is lifted.
You are still quiet, and he, the same; but the silence has shifted around you, and whereas before it’d been solid and steady, it’s now thrumming and charged with some unspoken energy.
Neither of you are blind to it; nor, it seems, is the rest of the crew.
Sanji’s taken to openly teasing Zoro about being with you all the time, complaining loudly that he can’t get a word in edgewise because Zoro refuses to leave you alone. Nami keeps on trying to drag you out for “girl's day” shopping trips, hinting at all the cute clothes you could get and how “green really suits your skin tone, y’know?”
Luffy and Usopp for their part, both just grin whenever they see you together — Luffy stoked at the fact that you seem more happy and talkative, Usopp gleeful at the way Zoro always seems so much softer when he’s next to you.
You’ve taken to watching him when he trains, sitting in the shade of the tangerine trees, a cold drink in your hand as Zoro runs through his katas. You content yourself with watching him flow through the movements, one and then another, and then another after that. He contents himself with your presence, knowing that you’re here, feeling your eyes as they skate down the length of his back or the width of his shoulders.
It’s a peaceful sort of companionship, even if it is living on borrowed time.
When you all wave the little island goodbye, it’s with heavy hearts and tearful smiles. It had treated you well, and you think you’d miss it. But adventure is as adventure does — it calls, beckoning to those with wandering hearts to listen.
The first week back at sea is a strange one, full of a ringing nostalgia. As if you’re simultaneously coming home and leaving one at the same time. Everyone is a bit quiet, except for Luffy, of course, who literally bounces off the freshly waxed planks, humming to himself as he sits on top of the great ram’s figurehead.
“Is he ever still?” you ask one day, sometime in the second week.
To which Zoro makes a sound between a scoff and a laugh, “You’ve been here a while. What’d you think?”
You sigh softly and tear your eyes away from the bright, shivering ball of energy that is your captain towards the far horizon. A sliver of uncertainty twines through you and your breath slows. Zoro glances at you, now long since attuned to your subtle shifts in movement and stillness. He narrows his eyes.
“What is it?”
You shake yourself back into the moment, forcing a smile.
“Nothing. I think…” your words fade as the feeling twists in you again, knife-sharp and stinging. You clear your throat and reach up to brush away a strand of hair. Skin grazes skin as Zoro’s hand meets yours in the same gesture and you both freeze — hands held up, his finger caught against the bend of your cheekbone, your fingers curling over his.
Time slows, slackens around the pair of you, and the moment stays, suspended in space — garnet dark and perfect.
Neither of you dare to breathe. It’s then that you realize how close Zoro is — close enough for you to see the entire ocean reflected in his eyes: big and dark and so endless it nearly unmoors you. Close enough for you to feel the warmth of his skin; his body, emanating heat. You’d often wondered, in the long hours of watching him train, at the glistening copper of his skin and the light-kissed quality, if the sun himself favored Zoro as well.
Like this, it’s easy to believe that beneath his skin, there pulsed something like sunlight.
“Look! It’s an island! It’s an island!”
And just like that, the moment shatters. Time slips back into motion and you pull away from each other, breathless, with warm cheeks and thundering hearts, feeling somehow lightning-touched and static-ridden.
You take half a step back, reaching up to press a hand to your mouth as if to stop something from tumbling through. But what? You can’t really say.
Zoro tips back as well, whipping around to help Usopp and Sanji with the sails as Luffy continues to holler, waving his hat. On the horizon, you see it looming — the silhouette of an island. You lower your palm from your lips to your heart and wonder what kind of island it will be.
Deserted — seems to be the answer when you all make landfall. The island is quiet, but the occasional chirp and cricket staves off your nerves as you all wander cautiously about the beach, squinting into the dense forest that seems to encompass the whole of the island.
“Looks like a good place to camp for the night!” Luffy says, grinning as he plops down on the sand.
Sanji nods, dusting off his hands, “We’ll need some wood for a fire, but I reckon I can whip up some grilled fish from the fresh catch.”
You wrap your arms around yourself and look around, glancing back at the darkening horizon.
“Something the matter?” Zoro’s voice is soft as he helps you carry some of the camping supplies from the ship.
“No… yes… I —” you look up at him, pursing your lips, “I don’t know. I’ve just… this island is…”
Zoro looks around, his dark eyes scanning the thick swath of forest just beyond the beach, “Too quiet?”
You let out a tiny laugh, “Yeah, something like that.”
He nods, “Don’t worry, I’m — we’re here.”
And he leaves it at that, hoisting a stack of wood over his shoulders and going to help Nami with the fire. You watch him with a smile, wondering what on earth you’d done to deserve this level of caring, this magnitude of kindness. Soon, dinner is had and drinks are shared and laughter is spilled like so many silver coins over the white sand beach. The lull of the evening takes over you all, and before long, Luffy and Usopp are slumped over each other, snoring loudly.
You stare into the depths of the fire and try to tamp down the growing dread festering inside your bones. All those years of holding still, of breathing and listening and feeling — you shake yourself — no, not all stillness is a bad thing. Not all silences are made the same.
“You’re doing it again,” Zoro’s voice almost makes you jump. Instead, you turn, finding him next to you as he nurses a half-drunk bottle of wine in his hands. He doesn’t look at you, but there’s a loose grin hinged across his lips.
“Sorry,” you say, ducking your head, feeling a now familiar heat creep into your cheeks that has nothing to do with the dwindling bonfire.
“Don’t be,” Zoro takes another drink, “But I told you… you don’t have to be afraid anymore.”
“I know… and I’ve said before —”
“Fear’s a hard habit to break,” Zoro echoes back at you, finally glancing over and catching your eye.
You breathe out, looking down at your own hands, “Yeah… but I’m trying.”
You both fall silent, and for a while, the only sounds are the crackle of the dying flames, the shush of the ocean waves, and the occasional snores from the rest of your crew. It’s late — later than you realized.
“Do you… want me to grab a book for you?”
You smile, “No, I don’t think it’s bright enough.”
“I could restoke the fire.”
“No, it’s — it’s okay.”
“Alright.”
A bird coos the distance.
“Why don’t you tell me a story?” you ask, turning to look at Zoro proper, shifting till your body is facing him.
In the faint light, you can see the edge of his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.
“You’re asking the wrong guy — you should wait till the Great Captain Usopp’s awake.”
“Yeah, but I want to hear one from you.”
Zoro sighs, his eyes fixed on the last of the flickering flames. He takes another swig of wine before he starts to speak, his voice low and a bit stilted, but he pushes on. He tells you about his childhood, the village he’d trained in, the doujou in the middle of the wood, his friend who he’d never beat — not even once.
He tells you about he early mornings and the late nights, and how the world had seemed large enough to conquer.
“… And then… there came a morning when she didn’t show up… and sensei came and told me that there’d been an accident.”
His voice almost breaks then, and your eyes catch on the shining white hilt of the Wadou Ichimonji — his thumb pressing against the guard, running along it’s hard metal edge.
“Oh… I’m sorry.”
Zoro shrugs, “Don’t be.”
You nod, “Still.”
Zoro slates you a lopsided smirk, “So. Now you know my tragic backstory too.”
You laugh, leaning back to cast your eyes up towards the sky, “And you know mine — it’s almost like we’re friends or something.”
Zoro lets out a long breath, “Yeah… or something.”
There’s a tightness to his voice that makes your skin tingle and it takes everything you have not to look over at him, to try and see if he’s looking at you, watching you the way you’d imagined him to be. You fancy you can feel his gaze on your face, but you close your eyes instead.
You let yourself fall into the warm haze of sleep, and for a while you drift there, your mind sifting through shards of memories and slivers of sound, casting them against the backs of your eyelids as you slowly slide into the darkness of dreams.
You wake up to a gasping stillness — the silence pressing in on your eardrums like thumbs, the darkness around you so complete it’s almost a solid thing. You freeze, your breath hissing to a halt inside you. Then distantly, ever so distantly, you hear the sounds of battle — metal clashing against metal, the hard thud of boots against flesh. You shake your head and reach up to clap your hands over your ears and only then do your senses return to you, snapping back as if you’d been abruptly shunted back into your earthly body.
“Gum Gum — Pistol!”
“Seize her!”
You whip into movement, fast as a flash, dashing away, hoping against hope that it would draw your attackers far enough from your crewmates.
“No one… ever… leaves us…”
The voice is serpentine and susurrus, sinking into your skin like sharpened teeth, but before it can reach you, it’s cut short by a bright flash of silver.
You gasp, whirling around, reaching for the nearest pulse, instinct taking over as you sink your fingers into muscle and flesh. The rush of blood thrumming beneath your fingertips comes too easy, even as a familiar scent accosts you. A moment later, your hands are being pinned above you, and thick, rough bark is digging into your wrists as Zoro stands before you, a sword in one hand, the other holding you still.
His eyes are a little wild and a lot worried. There’s a ring of red rawness around his neck, thin trickles of blood trailing along his jugular, disappearing into the wide scoop neck of his shirt.
“Hey, look at me.”
You nearly whimper, struggling against him, fear still coursing through you like a drug but Zoro is strong enough to keep you held. Behind him, you can see the rest of the crew fending off several shadowy figures, Usopp waving a torch, screaming at the top of his lungs, Luffy whooping as he whacks another figure with his fist.
“Z-Zoro?”
“Yeah, it’s me — eyes up here.”
You swallow in a breath, and then another, and you feel the bright thrum of urgency leave you as your body slowly falls slack. And then you’re slipping, and he’s looping an arm around you to keep you upright.
“Th-they’re here — they —”
“They’re gone — we got rid of them — hey.”
Zoro takes you by the shoulders and gives you a gentle shake. Finally, your eyes catch on his and your gaze holds. You see yourself reflected in them, stark and terrified, but alive — somehow alive.
“They’re gone,” he says, his voice soft and low by your ear, his arm still wrapped around your middle. Shivers wrack your body as you bury your face in his shoulder. He smells of steel and skin and the metallic tang of blood. It’s then that you remember — the wounds on the sides of his neck. The marks in the shape of your hands —
You jerk back and feel a sticky wetness against your cheek.
“Zoro, I hurt you!”
At this, he scoffs, pulling back far enough to flash you a look.
“This is nothing. C’mon.”
He offers you a hand, and after a second you take it, letting him pull you to your feet. Wordlessly, he presses his palm to the small of your back, his arm extended to keep you steady as you both make your way back towards camp.
“Phew! That was a workout!” Luffy is saying just as you both reach the outskirts of the now-darkened bonfire. Sanji is pulling out a cigarette, striking a match, and first lighting the end before tossing it into the remains of the firewood, fanning it up into a slow flame.
Nami and Usopp both look a bit shaken, but none worse for the wear.
They all pivot to look at you.
You go still against Zoro’s side, uncertainty flooding through you. Faintly, you feel Zoro’s fingers as they press into the bend of your waist, solid and steady.
Then, Usopp coughs, “C’mon y’all — the Shadows that Live? Psh! More like — the Shadows that Fled, am I right? Yeah? Didya see the way I sent ‘em runnin’ with my brand new fire-powered explosion rounds?”
Nami chuckles and Sanji follows suit, shaking his head and letting out a thin wisp of smoke. Luffy’s grins at you, pumping a fist in the air, clapping his right shoulder.
“See? Told you we’d have your back! We are your crew, after all!”
Weakness seeps into your limbs as you nod, hot pin-pricks of tears itching at your lower lashes. You lower your head and rub at your eyes before looking back up again with a smile. Sanji grimaces as he looks over Zoro.
“Got something on your neck, mate.”
Zoro glares but you glance over and feel your stomach twist with guilt.
“Sorry… I can clean that up for you. They’re not deep but they do need to be bandaged up.”
Zoro wipes down his sword before sheathing it and motioning towards the ship. Behind you, you can hear Nami yawning and saying something about catching up on some more sleep and Sanji reassuring her about having the last watch anyway.
The kitchen is still dark, but the dusty dawn sweeps against the far horizon and neither of you bother to turn the lights on. You carefully set the first aid kit on the kitchen counter and collect the supplies as Zoro leans back against the edge and folds his arms. You work in near silence, reaching up to first wipe the thin threads of drying blood before tending to the tiny, crescent-shaped puncture wounds.
You press an alcohol-soaked cotton ball against one of them and feel Zoro wince.
“Sorry.”
“I’m fine.”
You bite your lips, “If this had been a bit deeper or a few inches over —”
“But it wasn’t. So it’s fine.”
You don’t look up at him but you can feel his eyes on you. Your movements are fluid and sure; you’d clearly done this before.
“Hey, look at me.”
You freeze, eyes slowly gliding up the planes and divots of his neck, slipping up the line of his jaw, so sharp it might’ve been turned on a diamond cutter’s lathe. Your breath hitches as you finally meet his eyes, and there’s a dark, knowing glint behind them that makes your stomach flip.
“I’m fine.”
And for the second time in a handful of hours, you’re caught by the realization of your closeness — only a breath of space between you. There’s a crimp at the corner of his mouth that looks dangerously like a smile and then you’re tipping forward, a thumb reaching up to trace the line of his bottom lip once —
The movement acts like a trigger, and suddenly, he is leaning in and the breath of space disappears.
For all your life of stillness, you thought you’d learned to appreciate the depths and widths of movement. But nothing could’ve prepared you for this — for the push and pull of lips on lips, for the force and friction of skin against skin. For the gasp and hiss, for the breath and kiss.
For the feeling of his large palm as it settles along the swallow’s-nest bend of your neck, the way his thumb runs along your jaw like tracing the guard of his beloved sword, tilting your mouth towards him. For the way your heart might flutter like a tiny, caged bird, or the way you might feel his heart thumping like a fist from his chest to yours.
For the way his voice rolls over your name like a ship at sea; for the way it would shake your body from your bones and leave you more liquid than solid in his arms. For how you never used to think your story would be a love story, but then you realize that every story is a love story if caught in the right moment, in the right light.
And here, breaking apart from Zoro, with a thick, stolen streak of lemon-yellow sunlight leaking in from the kitchen window — that’s exactly what it feels like.
“Oh,” is all you have the strength to say.
Zoro, in all his solid brilliance and quiet audacity, laughs.
You taste the smile on your own lips before you realize you’re smiling. But when you try to bury your face in his neck, he winces slightly as you brush his still-fresh wounds.
“Crap, I forgot about these.”
Zoro chuckles as you hurry to press a few small bandages to the wounds.
“It’s okay. So did I.”
You finish dressing his wounds in silence, though this silence is markedly different from every other silence that had ever existed between you. There’s ease and tension, both, and when you’re finally finished, Zoro takes both your hands in his.
“So…” you say, unsure suddenly of where to look.
Zoro’s laugh is just as soft, just as uncertain.
“So.”
You try to look out the window, but by now, the dawning sun is so bright that it temporarily blinds you and you jerk back. Zoro smiles, reaching up to run his thumbs along your closed eyelids before dropping them to hook around your wrists again.
“Do you… wanna talk about it?” he asks, quiet as always.
You purse your lips and let your lashes flutter open. You find him watching you. Heat crests up your shoulders and into your cheeks, and suddenly, the exhaustion of the night before saps at your limbs. You sigh.
“Right now? Not really.”
“Yeah, neither do I,” he says, sounding as relieved as you feel.
You bite your lips and cast your gaze shyly across his face, your bird-wing heartbeat still flapping in your chest. You fight the urge to go still, to reach for that shield that has always protected you before. Faintly, you feel Zoro’s thumbs tracing circles along the insides of your wrists.
“Can I ask for something else, though?”
“What is it?”
You reach up a finger, nudging one of his golden earrings. You don’t miss the way he shivers, or the way his breath quickens in his chest.
“Kiss me again.”
Zoro grins, tugging you towards him, leaning into the curve of your palm as he does.
And does.
And does again.
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