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the-froschamethyst4 · 8 months

Text

Lazy Fun

➤Day 6

𖤐Pairing: Husband! König x Wife! F! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: Smut. NSFW, married couple, smoking, language, boob grabbing, ass smacking, hand job, blowjob, Sixty-Nine, eating out, biting, teasing, spanking, P in V, badly translated German

𖤐Summary: König had woken up a little bit horny and needs some help from his girlfriend Y/n, who was asleep next to him, he wanted to fuck her while she was asleep and have his fun

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6:30AM

König had woken up a little early then he'd like to. He laid on his back looking up at the ceiling, rubbing his tired eyes, and ran his fingers through his messy hair.

He let out another yawn before getting up from his shared bed. He opened his nightstand drawer and pulled out his cigarette box and pulled one out, he also grabbed his lighter and headed outside to the balcony and lit one.

He had the door open as he sat on one of the chairs and looked out at the sun raising.

He was still very tired. He turned his head and looked back at his wife asleep on her side of the bed. He looked down at his crotch, he looked back up and smirked at her still asleep and put his cigarette out.

He grabbed his lighter and headed back inside and he placed his lighter back into the open drawer. König removed his sweatpants till he was in his black boxers and got back under the covers.

Y/n, his wife felt his strong arms wrapped around her waist and shoulders. She signed into his touch and König kissed her temple.

"Liebling (sweetheart)," he mumbles.

"Hm?" She hums still half asleep.

"I need to release."

"What does that mean?" She mumbles into his forearm.

"You know?" He slowly pushes against her. Her eyes widened at what he means now.

"B-But I'm exhausted," she whines as she looked over her shoulder to look at him.

"I know...let me do all the work, liebe (love) you just need to relax," he coos.

"K-König," she stutters before he sat up and removed his boxers, Y/n rolled onto her stomach, her arms under her pillow, and she looked over her shoulder again.

She looked down at his crotch, his bulge just between her ass. She turned back and looked at the headboard of the bed. Her right hand gripped her pillow.

She felt him remove her shorts and panties just leaving her in the oversized t-shirt that was König's shirt.

He grabbed his boxers and removed them. He pushed himself inside of her and started to thrust deep inside of her, she gasped at the sudden feeling in her stomach.

He started to move fast as Y/n gripped the pillow even tighter, her knuckles turning white as he smirked behind her and leaned forward grabbing her boobs from under the shirt, she was wearing. She moaned at him squeezing them and pinching at her harden nipples.

She slammed her face into her pillow muffling her moans and she bit the fabric of her pillowcase.

König and Y/n haven't had sex in a while. König was busy going on deployment and they both didn't have time to do it. Y/n had work in the morning and in the afternoon/night would go out with her friends.

König only came home around midnight every day. This was the only time he had a day off and he's glad his day is starting off like this. Lazy sex with his wife.

König placed his hands on the bed beside her as he thrusted faster and sloppier. She positioned her butt to help him, and he just barely missed her g-spot.

She moaned his name as she gripped the pillowcase. Y/n looked over her shoulder at him and he just smirked giving her a peck on the lips before slamming into her harder and deeper earning a loud and sweet moan from her.

"K-König," she stutters.

"Just a couple more, liebe (love), I'm almost there anyways," he groans as he sat up, sitting on his knees, his right hand rested on her ass, he watched her eyes roll to the back of her head.

"Ahh~" she let out a soft moan as she felt a knot in her stomach. König's hand smacked her ass and gripped at her butt.

She buried her face back into the pillowcase and felt herself coming. He pulled out and his cum leaked from his tip onto her lower back. He watched the cum leak from her clit. He licked his lips before getting up to the bathroom and grabbing a rag to clean her up.

She sat up and looked down at her hands on the bedsheets. She heard König come back into the bedroom.

"Okay, mein liebling (my love)," he said as she looked up at his tall frame.

"King."

"Ja (yes)?"

"I wanna make you feel good, now."

"What? No, no, it's okay, liebe (love) I don't need to feel good, we just got done having sex, aren't you tired like you said you were?"

"I was...but now...I wanna treat you like you treated me; you don't have to put any effort in...I'll do all the work while you relax," she said as she crawled to the edge of the big King size bed.

König held the rag and looked a little confused at her, he let out a sign and caved in.

"Okay, okay, okay," he repeats.

He drops the rag and crawls on his side of the bed. He lays down on his back, arms behind his head as Y/n crawled over to him and bent down kissing his lips. His left hand went behind her head deepening the kiss. Her left hand traveled downward to his dick that was...soft.

She moved her hand up and down getting it hard again, he moans into the kiss. She moves her fingers to his tip and felt the precum leak from his tip.

She then pulled away from the kiss and looked down at his dick, she saw how harden he was now. She smirks and leans forward kissing his tip and smirked as she heard him groan.

"Schätzchen (honey)," König moans.

"Am I doing something wrong?" She asks, looking up at him.

"N-No, keep going," he says as he right hand went to her cheek. König knew how Y/n could be innocent with her words but her actions...König gets terrified, she's like a sadist with her actions.

She turned back and moved her hand back up and down, she watched as his hips jerked up and the pre-cum continued to leak from his tip.

She leaned back and took his dick into her mouth, he groaned and thrusted up into her moan, she moaned vibrating around his cock making him moan.

"O-Oh my g-god," he moans.

She then removed her mouth and then got on him. He looked at get on his stomach and her mouth went back around his cock, he then leaned forward licking between her folds. She moans around his dick, and he pushed his hips up making her gag on his dick.

She felt him smirk as he now started to nibble at her bud and licked her again. He shoved his tongue inside of her, she moans and started to bobbed her head up and down.

König groans as he started to push his tongue in and out of her. Her tongue swirled all around his dick, licking his shaft and then licking his tip, licking the pre-cum off.

She kept going till he bucked up again and came inside her mouth, she then came into his mouth, he removed his mouth from her clit and leaned back hitting his head against the soft pillow, mouth full of cum.

Y/n swallowed the cum that was in her mouth, König let out a sign of satisfaction and sat up looking at his wife who was still on his lower stomach.

"Should we clean up?" She asked, looking over her shoulder.

"Yeah," he smirks.

Y/n got off him and he sat up but picked Y/n up instead and took her to the bathroom turning on the hot shower.

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12:15PM

König sat on the couch on Y/n's soft thighs, he was watching his TV show as Y/n was on her phone looking at random TikTok's that popped up on her 'For You Page'.

König looked up at Y/n, she didn't look down at him, she just played with his hair. He turned back and grabbed her soft thigh and she bit into her thigh.

"AH! König!!" She shouts.

"What?" He chuckles.

"Don't what me. why did you do that?"

"Because your thighs were just BEGGINING to be bitten," he teases.

She grabs the thigh he bit and looked at it sees a perfect bitemark on her inner thigh. "Seriously?" She says.

"Yep," he licks his bottom lip and tried to bite her other thigh, but she quickly moved away from him and ran to the kitchen. König chased after her and they played around the little counter island in the middle of the kitchen. König jumped on the counter and ran across it chasing after Y/n again through the entire house till he caught her.

"THAT WAS SO UNFAIR!" She yells as she was being held by König and he plopped on the couch.

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711 notes · View notes

revasserium · 9 months

Note

butterfly lovers opla zoro screaming crying throwing up

butterfly lovers

opla!zoro; 7,106 words; fluff, kind of childhood friends to lovers, slowburn af, nsfw, pron with TOO MUCH plot, opla!canon divergence, ships doctor!reader, fem!reader, riding, "good girl", emotional sex

summary: yours and zoro's story, from two different perspectives.

a/n: @halfvalid this is ur fault. take responsibility pls. also the smut is literally just one part of a larger story, but it does actually get explicit so. do with that info what u will u__u.

false start.

most good stories, scholars and storytellers would both agree, have a beginning, a middle, and an end. though, famously, not necessarily in that order. and this particular story — well, it has several places one might call the beginning. and one of them is here — in shimotsuki village, in a patch of rich green forest that always smelled of cedar and moss and earth.

it would be a lie to say that the story begins here, at a doujou where eight year old boys and nine year old girls swing wooden swords hundreds of thousands of times each day. where you’d seen zoro for the very first time.

the story could have started here, but alas, it did not.

because you see, you’d never been great, or even particularly good at swordsmanship. and zoro — zoro was one of the best. even from the beginning, his raw, unfettered talent was a force to be reckoned with. but the reckoning came in the form of the doujou sensei’s blue-haired daughter, and you were no more part of zoro’s story then than a drop of ink in a midnight ocean — lost to the tumultuous waves of childhood tedium, of sword practice and sparring, of warm up laps and cool down stretches.

but you’d known him then, watched him as he grew, as he got better and better and better. bigger, stronger, quicker, sharper. and beside him was kuina, steady as the shifting tides, relentless in her efficacy, tireless in her craft. he was good, but she was better.

until one day, when very suddenly, she wasn’t.

the story, as it is, does not start here, because you’d made the solemn walk to kuina’s funeral altar with the rest of the students at the doujou in complete silence, had knelt there in equal silence and watched as sensei had bestowed the wadou ichimonji upon zoro, watched as he had gripped the sword with both hands, his knuckles going white as the sword’s moon-washed sheath, and bowed his head in acceptance.

it does not start here because later, instead of following the same, silent procession of kids back to the doujou’s main compound, you’d slipped away, silent as a shadow, and sprinted through the wide, cedar forest to a secret, open patch of grass where the sun bled from a stretch of endless sky blue enough to sting, and tiny little white-petaled flowers had sprung from the still-damp earth, turning their faces towards the coming spring.

you’d run, screaming through the field till you’d run out of breath to scream with, and collapsed among the tiny white flowers, panting and staring up at the endless blue sky, feeling the helplessness pulse through your veins. because even though kuina hadn’t been your friend — you’d exchanged perhaps a handful of words in all the years you’d spent here — she’d been a constant presence in your life. and now, she was gone. and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

you laid there for longer than you can remember, and then, as the sun finally dipped beyond the far horizon and the darkness grew longer than the sea was wide, you got up and trudged towards the clearing’s edge. only to find a small creature huddled against the trunk of a thin sapling tree — it looked like nothing more than a bundle of white-spotted fur, and it took you a long moment to realize that it was a fawn, curled into a pile of gnarled roots, shivering, eye wet and wide and terrified.

you blinked, staring at it for a few seconds before you’d noticed the gash on it’s hind leg, jutting out at an uncomfortable angle. your heart had stuttered inside your chest, and you’d dropped down to your hands and knees, cooing softly as you slowly approached the creature, trying to look as unmenacing as possible.

“hey there… are you hurt?” you’d said, crawling towards it, trying very hard to make your movements as slow and smooth as possible.

the fawn shivered as it stares at you, apparently caught between sheer terror and curiosity. you tried to smile, before digging into your pockets and pulling out a handful of peanuts, offering them to the fawn on an open palm.

“c’mon, i’m not gonna hurt you… i just wanna take a look… at that leg of yours, can i do that?” you’d asked, inching in closer and closer until the fawn’s warm, wet nose dug into your palm, it’s smooth-edged teeth grazing your skin as it crunched through the peanuts. you took the chance to glance down at it’s injured leg — it wasn’t a deep wound, but judging by the angle, it was a bit dislocated and would need to be set back right if the fawn was ever going to walk again.

slowly, you reached out a free hand to gently stroke at the fawns haunches, feeling it’s muscles tense up beneath you, even as it continues to snuffle against your palm, eager for any remnants of the peanut shells. you ran your hand along it’s leg and quick as a flash, you pressed against the odd jutting of bone, even as it snapped back into place with a satisfying crack.

the fawn made a shrill, screeching noise, jerking to its feet, but a moment later, it seemed to realize that it’s leg was no longer hurting. you held up both your hands in what you hoped was a calming gesture before tugging out a few more peanuts holding it out as an offering.

the fawn blinks it’s dark, watery eyes at you a few times before limping forward to dig its nose once more into your palm. you allowed yourself a smile then, and a soft relieved laugh as the fawn limped forward a few more steps, testing the weight of it’s body on its newly repaired leg. it looked more confident now, seemingly realizing that the wound was somewhat fixed, and it gave you one last, lingering look before it bounded off back into the sunset forest, leaving you with nothing more than a handful of peanut shells and a tightness in your chest you can’t quite seem to put your finger on.

you’d snuck back into the doujou that evening, smelling of mud and moss and cedar, and you’d lain in your futon, staring up at the high slatted ceilings, streaked with moonlight, wondering where on earth you truly belonged.

the next morning, everyone woke to neatly a folded futon and a wooden training katana, the hilt carved with your name, laid across your pillow.

so you see, the story could have started here. but it didn’t. and perhaps we should be thankful for that.

the cost of ambition.

the story, as we know it, starts then at the baratie, on the morning after a meal was eaten and not properly paid for, after an ill-fated duel between a boy with a mouthful of ambitions and a man who’d forgotten what it felt like to be truly surprised. well, he was surprised that morning, watching the boy fall back with a gash the size of the world spurting blood across the docks.

“grow strong,” he’d said, “and come find me.”

and it starts, when a pirate in a straw hat comes crashing into the baratie’s kitchen, shouting about a dying friend.

“help! help! zoro… zoro needs a doctor!”

“whoa, whoa, slow down, chore boy — i can’t understand a word you’re saying,” zeff holds up a hand to stem luffy’s panicked rambling.

“my friend is dying…”

“the nearest doctor’s on the conomi islands —”

“wait, no —” sanji frowns, cutting zeff off, “lemme look at the reservations from last night —” he hurries off to the front desk and returns with a thick leather bound volume, flipping it open to scan through the seating chart for the night before.

“i knew it!” he says, pointing at a name written in deep, ocean blue ink, “there — her! i’ve heard of her — she’s the best ship’s doctor in the east blue, and if i’m not much mistaken, her ride’s not due to leave till this afternoon.”

“great! c’mon — we haven’t got time to lose!” luffy says as he rushes out of the kitchens, leaving sanji and zeff to exchange an exasperated look before following after.

they find you on the loading docks, your nose buried in a notebook, your hand flying across the page, ink smudging your unrolling sleeve.

“please! we need a doctor! my friend — zoro — he’s dying!”

you jerk up from your notes, the name ringing in your ears like an alarm bell, rocking through your body like the base boom of a signal flare. zoro? here?

you look around even as luffy makes his way to you, pressing in too close, a hand on top of his head to keep his hat from flying away, the other curling around your upper arm.

“w-wait — what’s going on? did you say someone was dying?”

“yes! my friend! he got into a fight with this warlord guy and now he’s bleeding from everywhere —”

“show me,” you say, lurching to your feet and shouldering your leather knapsack, pursing your lips as your vision threatens to tunnel ahead of you. zoro. it’s been such a long time since you’d heard that name. sure, you’d heard of his exploits in the east blue. how could you not have?

demon, bounty, pirate hunter. hunter, hunter, hunter —

you take a deep breath as luffy leads you onto the deck of the going merry and ducks below, motioning for you to follow.

when you step into the room, you don’t notice the orange-haired girl or the long-nosed boy, instead, your eyes are drawn to the body on the kitchen table as a magnet would a compass rose. his shirt torn into barely more than ribbons, a large red gash oozing blood, bisecting his torso like some unbridgeable canyon in miniature, his skin paler than you’d ever remembered it being, sweat beading his flickering brow —

oh, zoro…

you resist the urge to press your hand to your mouth. so instead, you swallow back your heart and try to assess the damage. massive blood loss, possible head trauma, and who knows what else?

“you said a warlord with a giant sword did this?” you ask, hurrying to the table and frowning down at the gaping wound.

“y-yeah — he — he had a big hat with a white feather on it —” luffy starts.

“mihawk. his name was dracule mihawk,” the orange-haired girl cuts in, her voice sharp and a bit too forced to be steady, “he told zoro to get stronger, and that… it wasn’t his time to die yet.”

you grimace, chewing on your bottom lip as you dump your supplies unceremoniously onto the countertop next to him, digging out the necessities.

“well, he wasn’t lying — the cut’s clean and judging by the size… he could’ve cut much deeper. but he didn’t,” you sigh, absently rolling up your sleeves as you pull out a hooked suture needle and a length of thread.

they watch you work in silence, first cleaning the wound, and then slowly, painstakingly pinching and stitching him back together. by the end of it, you’re nearly dizzy with exhaustion, and the sky outside has already turned a deep, bruising purple.

you sigh, wiping down your hands.

“can someone go and ask the waiter for a fish? any fish’ll do, but the fresher, the better. oh, and a bottle of scotch.”

“got it!” the boy with the long nose bolts up and is gone in a flash.

you slump down into a nearby chair and let your head loll back. a moment later, you feel someone pressing a glass into your hand and open your eyes to find the orange-haired girl holding a glass of water.

“here… you looked like you could use it.”

“thanks,” you say, taking a grateful gulp.

“i’m nami, by the way… thanks for —” she waves at the shape of zoro still on the kitchen table, “and that one over there is luffy. the guy that just left is usopp and —” her breath catches as her eyes fall back onto zoro’s form.

“i know who he is,” you say, your voice quiet as you look down at the glass clutched in your hands.

“you know zoro?” luffy’s voice is loud, but not unpleasantly so.

you glance up and feel the truth pulsing against the back of your throat like a heartbeat. then, you shake your head with a soft smile.

“i mean, he’s got quite the reputation.”

luffy lets out a laugh, “yeah! he sure does — he’s a great fighter! probably one of the best i’ve ever seen!”

you nod, staring at the sloshing liquid in the bottom of your glass.

a few moments later, usopp returns with sanji in tow, holding a bottle of scotch in one hand and a dead fish in the other.

“you’d better have a good reason for this,” he says, his expression grim, “zeff’s not gonna be happy when he finds these gone.”

you force a smile, “well, i can promise that at least one of those things’ll be put to good use — can you just skin the fish for me, please?”

sanji frowns, “and the scotch?”

you glance around before shrugging, “i don’t know about you guys but… i think we could all use a drink.”

the cliche of the morning after.

when zoro wakes up the first time, it’s to a world-muffling quiet. he coughs, uncertain of where he is, his head throbbing, his chest feeling too light and too heavy all at once.

“oh! you’re awake — here… have some water. you’ll need it.”

he hears the voice, both familiar and foreign, and then, he feels the cool press of a glass against his lips.

he gulps down the water greedily before pain rockets through him and he lets out a loud groan.

“i… i had a dream…” he says, his head spinning, the words slurring from him, and for a second, he wonders if he’d just been fed alcohol instead of water, but the pain seizes him again and he can’t stop talking.

“yeah? what did you dream about?” the familiar, foreign voice asks, soothing, as a cold palm presses against his forehead.

“shimotsuki village… i — i made a promise. i told her — i’d be the greatest… swordsman…”

his voice is fading, and the world is fading with it.

“yeah… you did, huh? and i’m sure you’ll fulfill it, one day…”

zoro sighs, sinking gratefully into the warm, welcoming arms of darkness once more.

“but not today,” you say, reaching out to wipe the sweat from zoro’s brow, your voice so soft that you’re sure no one else can hear, “today… you just need to keep on living. and that’s the greatest promise you could ever make to me.”

smooth sailing.

when he wakes up proper, you aren’t there to greet him. but he doesn’t miss the shape of you as they all pile onto the merry to go looking for nami. he doesn’t miss sanji’s too-wide grin or the unpleasant, burning itch that shoots through his healing wound as he watches the cook ask you about your favorite foods.

he keeps quiet for the most part, but you find him still, and you ask him how he’s doing with a ship’s doctor’s professionalism and efficiency.

“how’re you healing?”

“fine.”

“any tenderness?” you ask, your brows knitting as he tugs open his shirt and lets you peel the bandages away.

“not really,” he lies, because the the tenderness is not skin deep. he feels it in the labyrinthine galleys of his soul and he can’t quite figure out why you, of all people, might make him feel this way.

you run a surgical hand along the stretch of puckered skin and he sucks in a long breath, feeling his cheeks flood with inexplicable heat.

you smell of cedar and moss and freshly turned earth and for the life of him, he can’t remember why it makes his entire body go soft with memory. it reminds him of… something.

something, something, something.

“i hear you, y’know,” you say, and he jerks back to the present, with you absently rolling up your shirtsleeves before tugging at a fresh piece of gauze to wrap him back up.

“don’t know what you mean.” he looks away, willing himself to stay still as you daub a pungent cream against his chest before applying the layers of bandage. he lifts his arm to give you more room even as you shoot him a disbelieving look.

“sword practice, in the middle of the night. i told you that you need to rest — you’ll only prolong your own healing if you keep on pushing yourself like this. rest is it’s own brand of practice.”

zoro narrows his eyes. because he’d heard that from someone, somewhere before.

“your bodies need time to repair,” his sensei used to say as they all gathered after dinner at the doujou for evening meditation, “and a disciplined mind leads to a disciplined body. don’t forget that rest is it’s own brand of practice.”

zoro had never been good at it, but over the years, he’d managed to endure.

“there. all done.”

you lean back to admire your handiwork, unaware of zoro’s eyes as they scan over the shape of you, taking in the length of your hair, the bright of your eyes, the limber, spider-quick thinness of your hands and fingers.

“thanks,” he says, slipping off the kitchen table, pausing as he notices how still you’ve gone, your eyes wide as you blink at the planes of his chest, inches from your nose. a second later, you stumble back, clearing your throat, a sweet dawning pink dusts the high of your cheeks as he cocks his head to watch you, fascinated by your reaction.

he almost grins, letting his stomach flex as he takes his time in doing up the buttons of his shirt, before grabbing his swords and slipping from the room, leaving you to clean up your medical supplies, your bottom lip caught between your teeth.

zoro wonders, just briefly, how it might feel to catch your lips between his own teeth instead.

ink, skin, and bullets.

it’s you who bandages nami’s self-inflicted wounds, you who spends four meticulous hours tattooing over the sawfish curl with a pinwheel spiral that curves into a tangerine’s plumpness. you, who soothes eucalyptus balm over nami’s arm before wrapping it up in a fresh roll of gauze, waving away her hiccupped thanks.

and it’s you, who gets a shotgun pressed into your palms by a stony-faced nojiko as you all prepare to march on arlong park.

“if i can’t go with you… then at least, i can give you the tools,” nojiko says as she wraps your fingers around the butt of the gun.

zoro narrows his eyes as he watches the way your fingers shake as you weigh the shotgun in your palms.

“i don’t like it,” he says.

“yeah, you shouldn’t come with us — we’ll need you to patch us up after,” sanji agrees with a wink, much to zoro’s displeasure.

but you shake your head, a steely light in your eyes as you clutch the shotgun to your chest, “no, i — i want to come. i mean — like luffy said… it’s our fight, after all.”

arlong park.

the flurry of battle is as it always has been. you use the shotgun more as a blunt instrument than as a projectile carrier, but it seems to work just as well. you’re small, and quick, and your knowledge of anatomy (yes, even fishman anatomy) allows you to maneuver the head of the shotgun into the softest, most venerable places on a fishman’s body as you all fight your way through arlong park.

but zoro is never far off, keeping close to you as he fends off the worst of the snarling fishmen, his sword flashing like fish scales in the midday sun.

there comes a moment when he slices an oncoming fishman right through the jugular that you let out a long breath, wincing as the fishman’s body hits the ground with a dull thud, and zoro sighs, turning towards you. but a second later, he freezes as you grab the hilt of his sword and shove it backwards.

he feels it resting against thick, bullet-proof flesh and he hears the loud panting of something next to his ear as he sees in the reflection of your eyes — a fishman standing behind him, frozen against the tip of his blade, the hilt clutched in your shaking, shivering hands.

“d-don’t — i’ll kill you —” you say, your voice a forceful, fractured thing.

zoro searches your eyes before clasping his hands over yours and slowly tugging the sword from your gasp.

“hey…” he says, deliberately drawing your gaze away from the fishman before he jerks his sword back and feels, with a satisfying shink, the weight of the blade sinking into unforgiving flesh. he feels your fingers trembling beneath his as he pulls the sword away, and the fishman behind him sinks to his knees before falling sideways with the dull thunk of a no longer animate body.

you try to tug away, but zoro holds you steady, running his thumb in soothing circles along the backs of your hands.

“s-sorry — i — i couldn’t —”

zoro shakes his head, pulling you up by your elbow.

“it’s okay — don’t apologize.” he whips his swords around and catches another fishman in the stomach, dropping him with a flicker of silver and a splash of red.

“you never have to apologize…” he says, as he reaches for your hands and curls them in the warmth of his own, callused palms.

finding neverland.

you kiss for the first time after a brutal battle. after the deck has been washed of blood and the railings have been hung with the remnants of the tattered sails.

repairs are much needed, but zoro had saved you yet again. you pull him to you in the darkness of the midnight deck, the crow’s nest empty because, well, he’s supposed to be up there, keeping watch. but you’d caught him instead, curling your fingers into the soft linen of his shirt, your mouth seeking out his in the relative dark.

“mnph —”

he grunts as his hands find purchase against your shoulders, pressing you back and back and back, till you’re pushed flush against the thick totem of the main mast, and your panting breaths are all he can taste against his desperate lips.

“s-sorry…” you let out a helpless laugh as he pushes forward, his teeth clacking against yours.

“quit that,” he says, his voice nothing more than a panting breath on the open sea air.

“hm?” you blink, lashes fluttering in the moonless night, your lips kiss-swollen and delectable even as zoro forces himself to pull back, studying you with an accusatory eye.

“you’re always saying sorry,” he says as he brushes a strand of hair from your cheek. above you, the main sail whoomps, catching an evening wind.

“i’m not… i don’t…” you look away, embarrassed to be caught. zoro reaches down to grab your chin, forcing your head back towards him.

“yeah, you do,” he says, his voice gentle, even as he cups your cheek.

“you don’t ever, ever, have to apologize for just... being you. got it?” and there’s a burning ember in the spark of his voice as he twists your face up towards him, his lips hot and hungry as he brands you with this promise, and you’re powerless to do else but accept it.

you find your fingers in the short hairs at the nape of his neck, his breath cascading over your lips even as you press in close, close, closer. a helpless whine twists its way up the back of your throat as zoro hoists you up, his fingers digging into the plush of your thighs.

“z-zoro… please,” there’s something broken in the tenor of your voice that breaks him more completely than he has the words to describe, so he settles for holding you tighter over his hips and carrying you to his room. it takes a bit of finagling to get you comfortably situated in his hanging bed, but once he does, he can’t help the soft sigh that escapes him as he looks over the length of your body.

from your pink-flushed cheeks to the loose, crumpled material of your button up shirt, all the way down to the hem of your skirt as it brushes up along the skin of your thighs. he leans own to press an indulgent kiss into the dip of your collarbone.

“'please' though… i like a little bit more,” he says, reaching down to pop the top button of your shirt, to revel in the way you hiccup as he teases a line down your chest, his lips following his fingers as he undoes your buttons one by one.

“i — ah —” your fingers curl into the soft moss of his hair and he groans, long and lush into the creamy expanse of skin above the waist of your miniskirt.

“again…” zoro says, whispering the word against you, tugging on the elastic of your skirt, pulling them down the length of your legs.

“z-zoro, please!”

your head tips back as you feel his tongue flick over the hot button of your clit, his fingers digging into your hips, the pads of his forefingers tracing gentle circles around your hip bones as he holds you to his mouth and moans.

there’s a fumbling of fingers and a clashing of teeth as he wrenches himself up from between your legs to mouth at your lips. you taste yourself on his tongue and shiver at the indecency. still, the coals of desire burn in the pit of your stomach as his fingers press into your spit-slicked folds and you feel your whole body arch up in response.

he has always been quiet, but none more so than when he’s working three digits into your fluttering core, his eyes dark and fixed as they watch his own fingers pull out of you and push back in, slick and shiny with the evidence of your arousal.

“fuck…” he whispers the word like a prayer, slipping passed his lips like some holy thing. you can hear the near reverence in his voice as he slowly removes his hand and presses them to his lips for a taste. the lewdness of it makes the hot coil in the pit of your stomach twist all the tighter. and this time, when he drags himself up the length of your body to kiss you, you whine against his mouth, tasting your own tang on the heat of his tongue.

“ngh — fuck —!” you echo, as he flips onto his back and tugs you over his hips in one, fluid moment, his palms helping you grind your sodden folds over the length of his cock, the friction all-consuming and dizzying. a thin string of arousal connecting the tip of his cock to the seam of your cunt and zoro is helpless to do much else but moan thickly at the sight.

“shit.”

you whimper softly as he teases at your entrance, your palms splayed against his chest for support, your thighs shaking on either side of his hips as he eases you down inch by slow, excruciating inch, ontohis thick, throbbing cock. you toss your head back as he pushes into you, the fit of him fiery-tight and stretching you in ways you’d never thought was possible.

you feel him pulsing against your walls, and you wish briefly that you could’ve tasted him as he’d tasted you, before he sheathed himself inside you. how would he taste, you wondered, and you feel your mouth water at the thought of his heavy, salty weight on your tongue.

“n-ngh!” your voice cracks as he rocks his hips experimentally against yours, the drag of him inside you driving you to near incoherence.

“good girl,” he whispers, the words falling from him like second nature. you keen beneath his praise, bracing yourself as he plants his feet on the bed and jack hammers up into you, his stomach tensing in deep breaths of tight, sinewy muscle, his arms flexing as he helps you rock down above him.

“pretty… fucking… girl…” he intersperses his heavy groans of pleasure with soft exclamations, fucking you now to the light, rhythmic rocking of the ship, even though there’s nothing light about the way his cock bullies it’s way into your cunt again and again, forcing you to clamp down around him on each and every thrust.

there’s nothing gentle about the way he digs his nails into the flushed skin of your hips, how he leans up to latch his greedy mouth onto one of your pert nipples, moaning as he savors in the way you arch against him, pushing your chest more fully into his mouth.

“r-right — right there —”

“yeah?” he asks, half-smirking as he looks up at you, his warm gaze betraying the hard, teasing edge behind his voice, “where do you want me?”

you keen, whining as you drag your hands down your own body to press against your stomach, grabbing his hand to push it against you as well, his palm hot and flat as it lays along your tummy.

“r-right here —”

“fuck — that’s right —” he jerks up into you, burying his face in your chest with a clipped moan as he quickens his pace, his one hand pressing against your stomach as you feel him pushing up farther into you than you’d ever imagined possible.

the pleasure is intense, an other-worldly feeling as he finally pushes you over the edge, his hips stuttering as he feels you clench around him, your arms winding around his torso, to act as both tether and tide as he holds you to him, grounding you to this feeling while simultaneously casting you against the rough edges of this most selfless and selfish pleasure.

“h-holy… fuck me…” you breathe out, clutching at zoro’s back, digging ruddy red grooves into his shoulder blades as he rolls over to fucks down into you, relentless in his chase of his own climax, groaning deep and throaty as he finally spills into you.

you hiss as you feel the heat of him pooling inside. and it’s not till a few minutes later that he picks his head up from where his face had been buried in your neck to shoot you a wide, lopsided grin.

“yeah, pretty sure that’s what i just did,” he says, rolling onto his side and letting out a deep, soul-steadying breath.

you roll your eyes before turning to look at him, only to find him watching you with a gentle, anchoring softness. and like this, it’s hard to see him as the battle-hardened warrior. like this, it’s hard to imagine that he’d ever made such a promise as to become the greatest swordsman in the whole, entire world.

like this, he just looks like a lovestruck boy, forced to grow up much too soon, searching for any remnants of pleasure he might have left to hold on to.

an irony of hands.

it’s never easy, the night after enemy raids, the deck pooling with bodies and blood, the sea the color of a scabbing wound, flotsam and jetsam like bloated body parts floating on the dark, inky waves.

you’re helping usopp push some of the dead bodies overboard, but then you find one man with three deep gashes on his torso and blood bubbling on his lips.

“… gonna… gonna report — never… escape…”

you nearly yell as you see the tiny den den mushi in his hands, his fingers quivering as he tries to dial the emergency line. you smack it from his hand and press your tiny, surgeon’s scalpel to his throat. it’s sweet, polished silver gleams wicked beneath the moonless night.

“don’t you fucking dare,” you say, even though your voice shakes, and there are perhaps a million other ways of taking care of him more easily. but you know that if you throw him overboard now, he’d bob, half-drowning and helpless, for a few hours, or maybe even days before he’d finally succumb to the terrible, patient drag of the ocean (and most likely, dehydration).

“no,” a voice says, steady and firm, as a long, rough-fingered hands enter your vision and carefully tug your hands way from the man’s throat.

you look up to find zoro, his hand still clutched around yours, an unspoken sweetness flickering behind his eyes.

“i — if we toss him over — he'll just —” you swallow thickly, tearing your gaze away from zoro’s face as his expression shifts into something of the unreadable and soft. you hate to let him see you like this, so hesitant, so incompetent.

“let me do it,” zoro says, giving your hands a light shove before, with one swift arc of his blade, he severs the man’s carotid, leaving him slumped and bleeding on the blood-stained deck.

“oh… oh god…” you press your shaking fingers to your lips, the silver scalpel falling with a loud clatter.

“c’mere,” zoro says, tugging you up and leading you down to the hallway below decks. he slows as the pair of you enter the darkest part of the hallway, and he turns to hold you at arms length, his fingers tight on your arms as you feel his eyes scanning you over, and over, and over.

“you’re not hurt?” he asks, voice quiet and clipped.

“no,” you shake your head.

“not even a little?”

you shake your head again, pursing your lips this time to keep the sob from pouring through.

still, he sees it, and he pulls you to him, cradling your head in his large, warm palm, the other arm wrapping around your middle.

“stupid girl,” he murmurs, light, into your cheek even as you let out a bitten off sob against his chest.

you hiccup, curling your fingers into the material of his shirt, "i — i couldn’t do it,” you say, squeezing your eyes as he holds you to him and lets you cry.

“i — i couldn’t kill him.”

zoro sighs, pulling back to smooth a hand over your hair, bringing it down to cup your now tear-stained cheek.

“yeah, i know. but that’s not what your hands are made for,” he says, letting his own hands trail down and down and down, till he’s got both of your palms cupped in his like a wishbone.

“don’t you get it?” he asks, staring down at your palms, upturned against his, “these hands were never made for taking lives…” he looks up, his eyes too bright in this borrowed darkness. and then, he smiles.

“they were made for saving lives instead.”

confessions, part i.

you stare at him for a full ten seconds before letting your body fall laxed into a soft, bubbling fit of champagne-colored laughter.

“i love you,” you say, the words tumbling from you, more truth than any story or poem or legend or myth either of you have ever heard.

“i love you, zoro,” you say again, tasting the words on your tongue like fireworks, like pop-rock candies, like the first, stinging breath of autumn after the hazy veil of summer has finally lifted. and slowly, in the clarity and truth of your declaration, you think you can see his lips as they lift up in an open-heart smile, as he too tastes the words you’ve just so recently mustered the courage to say.

confessions, part ii.

zoro stares back, and or a long moment, he doesn’t say anything. then, for too long. and you think you’d made a mistake, telling him how you feel. but then, he smiles — a true smile, a smile that lights up his face and erases all the grooves and lines that should’ve been worn there by the weathers and weights of hardship.

and still, listening to your words, he smiles — a smile that makes him nothing short of incandescent.

he nods, squeezing your hands in his.

“i love you too.”

false start (redux).

every story as a beginning, a middle, and an end. though not necessarily in that order. and, looking back, roronoa zoro knows that if he had to pick, his story probably begins here — at the ripe age of eight, in a doujou nestled next to a forest that always smelled of cedar and moss and freshly turned earth.

it probably starts with an endless parade of sword practice and sparring, of warm up laps and cool down stretches.

its true — it could be said that his story starts with kuina, the doujou sensei’s blue-haired daughter, who was better at swordcraft than zoro thought he ever might be. and to some, this is a good enough kind of beginning to latch on to.

but no, zoro knows, because he knows himself now, and he knows that stories, just like swordsmanship, is an art that requires a certain amount of tempering. a certain degree of trimming and tailoring. a certain kind of articulation.

so he’s certain that it starts here, when he’d seen you for the very first time. and it’s true, you’d seemed like nothing special then, just another quiet little girl who’d been forced into the doujou by some faceless set of rigid, expectant parents, and you’d worked just as hard as you could have, given your natural inclination for anything but sword play.

he’d known that you’d never be great shakes at swordsmanship, but still, he’d found himself drawn by and to you, as a magnet would a compass rose, as one might find their destiny, or their soulmate. he had found his eyes tracking you whenever you weren’t looking, found himself watching as you’d patter around after sparring practice to ask everyone how they were feeling, to dig your tiny fingers (strong and dexterous as they already were) into a knot here, an aching muscle there, a pinched nerve that might’ve been really bad if not found here, and left to fester in that vast, horrible elsewhere.

but he’d been a shy, quiet, kind of boy, absorbed by his sport. and kuina’s skill was more than enough for one growing, teenage boy to contend with without worrying about the strange attraction he had towards perhaps the least “swordsy” person in the entire class. and so, he’d never plucked up the courage to talk to you, never questioned when you’d kept away from his side of the classroom after sparring practice, when all the other girls would flutter around him like a flock of unwelcome pigeons, asking if he wanted to be their stretching partner.

then, the morning came when shimotsuki-sensei had informed him in not so many words that kuina was gone. and the funeral had slipped by in a hazy blur of bodies and incense, and the next thing he knew, he was holding the wadou ichimonji, and sensei was saying something about keeping kuina’s dream alive.

he’d seen you flit from the funeral march of black-clad children, shadow-dark and raven-quick, right off into the thicket of trees. and he’d followed you, because he couldn’t think of a place he’d like to be less than back in that suffocating practice room with all his fellow classmates, half of them casting him curious looks, the other half avoiding his gaze like the literal plague.

he’d followed you to the clearing, and watched as you’d sprinted, screaming around the field of tiny, white-petaled flowers until you slumped down, panting with your face upturned to a sea-breeze sky. he caught himself before he could burst out laughing (or crying, he wasn’t quite sure which he wanted to do more at that moment), and he’d forced himself to sit still behind the trunk of a large tree and watch as you pushed yourself up. the light of the dying sun washed your figure in a great, dream-like ream of orange and gold.

then, just as it seemed like you were going to head back, he spotted you spot the injured fawn, curled into the gnarled roots of a sapling cypress tree. and he’d watched still as you slowly approached the creature with a handful of peanuts before distracting it and crack — he’d heard it clear across the clearing — the sound of a bone being set back into place.

the fawn had screeched and bolted to it’s feet.

but you were just as fearless as you always were, holding out your palm with more peanuts, and zoro had watched, with a mounting fascination coiling in the base of his stomach, as the fawn dug its nose into the palm of your hand.

he’d seen the brilliance behind your eyes, heard the bell-toll sound of your soft, everlasting laughter.

and he vowed, then and there, to become the greatest swordsman he could be, the greatest swordsman in the world, if only to protect you from those who might hurt you. from those who might threaten to take away the light — the life — that thrummed, ever present, in the palms of your very own hands.

a/n: i know, i know, there was an authors note before. but i feel like i can explain this better now that you've read the fic -- to me, the story of "butterfly lovers" is and always has been as story of someone pretending to be someone they're not, right? so in that sense, you/reader was just trying to fit into a mold that wasn't quite made for her before discovering her true calling as a doctor. and the fluff and romance was that, unbeknownst to her, zoro's known that this entire fucking time. u__u anyways. i hope you enjoyed. bless up and simp zoro, fam.

opla!zoro requests are open!

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hazz-a-bear · 2 days

Text

FOODS FOR WORMS, wen junhui

♡⸝⸝ loving junhui comes to you as easy as breathing. so it's only right that you love him with everything you've got till you're nothing but foods for worms to eat.

.ᐟ fluff. comfort. junhui cries and he should never cry, especially on his birthday. very mild soonyoung slander because he's an alleged furry.

🎧 everywhere, everything - noah kahan, gracie abrams

A/N - This is a love letter to Wen Junhui and nothing less, nothing more. I hope he receives all the love he deserves not only on his birthday, but for the rest of his life <3

The tenth of June was probably one of the most special days for you.

It was circled with a red marker on the calendar on top of your desk, there was a permanent countdown on your phone leading up to the day and it was also the sequence of numbers that acted as the password to all kinds of devices you owned.

Which, now that you think about it, is probably the most predictable thing and also the reason Soonyoung keeps getting access to your wifi from a five-mile radius of your apartment. But even after years and years of using it, you still haven't gotten the heart to change it. Not even when your internet provider, very concerningly, handed you a bill of your rising wifi charges and a list of browsing history you were honestly too scared to look at.

( You should probably ask him about the context of 'Help I accidentally started a cult' and 'Is it illegal to own a pet tiger?' but it's Soonyoung, so you're sort of glad you never did )

( It's still not as bad as 'Am I a furry if I pretend to be a tiger around people?' though, you have to agree )

The moral of the story is surprisingly not the fact that you should change your wifi password from 100696 so your boyfriend's best friend can't easily feed off of the service that you pay for with your money. ( For diabolical reasons that is, by the way )

The actual moral of the story, however: June 10th is a special day.

Junhui likes to call it his birthday. You like to call it his heritage day, his womb escape anniversary and the day that gave the world what would be the best gift of your entire life.

The fascinatingly beautiful being that is Wen Junhui was created nine months prior and was grazed upon this earth on the 10th of June.

Okay, that's a weird way to put it.

It's Junhui's birthday.

And you are anything but normal about it.

As always, the celebrations start on June 1st itself. You wake him up with a celebratory birth-month breakfast consisting of his favorites - pancakes with blueberries for eyes and a whipped cream smile for a mouth. Junhui gets up every year with a shy smile and a 'Sweetheart, you didn't have to do this' knowing damn well you're not going to be stopped from celebrating him at any point.

The two of you usually stay up the day before his actual birthday. Curling up on the couch with a show on the TV, it's tradition for the two of you to just rest and enjoy the silent night.

This time, Junhui saunters up to you just as you're finishing cleaning up the kitchen after dinner on the ninth of June. With a coy smile, he pulls you into the living room before sitting down next to you on the couch, quickly draping all over you and finding his comfort spot tucked into your side.

As some kind of show plays in the background, you pull him impossibly close to you. Between zoning out and focusing on the plot of the show, you press small fluttering kisses to the crown of his head. Junhui preens and leans into you like a cat, chasing the press of your lips with a tilt of his head. When you pull away at some point, he turns to you with the smallest pout on his lips.

The two of you spend the majority of the night like that, basking in each other's warmth and counting the minutes leading up to the second the clock strikes midnight.

And when it finally does and your phone chimes with a buzzing alarm to announce that yes, the day that you've been counting down is finally here, you turn to him.

Junhui knows the drill so he easily goes when you shift him to face you. There's a hint of a smile pulling at his lips because he knows what's coming.

The clock reads, ⩇⩇:⩇⩇

"It's your womb escape anniversary" Your voice is nothing above a whisper because the two of you are that close already.

"You're never going to stop calling it that, are you?" He sighs but he's clearly trying to hide a grin as he does.

"Never" You shake your head before you bring up a hand to gently cradle his face.

You let yourself stare shamelessly at the face of the man you've loved for what feels like an eternity.

"Happy Birthday, my love" You let the back of your fingers caress the soft skin of his cheeks. "Thank you for letting me share all your days"

Junhui smiles before he brings up a hand to wrap around your wrist. He tilts his head to press his lips to your palm before he holds it close and peers into you with his eyes that you fall in love with every day.

"Thank you"

When you lean in to kiss him, it's all slow and languid, much like the love the two of you share. There's nothing urgent about it, just a continuous press of fluttering lips like you're breathing each other into your lungs. You hold him by the back of his neck, fingers tangling in the fabric of his t-shirt as he presses his lips to yours in a final kiss.

"I love you"

"I love you more", comes out easier than breathing.

On the day of his birthday, usually, the two of you would get an off day to spend the day by yourselves doing whatever Junhui's heart desired.

The year before last, he wanted to go to the Ghibli Studio Museum. The trip, no matter how impromptu or unplanned it was, had been one of the best trips you've ever been. More than the shops, the rides or seeing all the characters from your favorite movies, what made you happy was the sight of Junhui running around the place with twinkling eyes, a beaming smile on his lips and a stuffed Totoro tucked under his arm.

Last year, he very cheekily asked if he could go to one of those build-a-bear showrooms and you were getting in the car as fast as you could, driving to the place at god's speed with Junhui beaming happily in the passenger seat. Totoro from Tokyo gained two new brothers that day - a rainbow bear Jun had named 'Sir Bear the II' and a brown bear you very confidently decided to call not Dirt but 'Durt'

This year, everything was usual from the birth-month breakfast in bed to the mandatory birthday shenanigans Junhui decided to be a part of. But when you'd asked him what kind of adventure he'd like to take on the day itself, Junhui had very carefully sat you down on the edge of the bed with his hands lacing yours.

"Will you believe me if I said I just want to spend the time with you?"

You swear your brain short-circuited for a moment before you managed to kick-start back into reality, asking him what he's trying to say. He had been so sweet as he explained how exhausted he was after all the work he'd been buried under recently. Moving back and forth through countries, doing an ungodly amount of work and on the edge of a teetering peak of his career, he cast his eyes down as he asked you,

"I want to stay home this time, spend the day with you. Just us two, is that okay?"

Not that you were going to, but how can you ever say no to a man ( a child in disguise ) with big brown eyes and a pout that can make you kill for him.

"Of course it's okay. It's your day angel, we're celebrating you. We can stay at home, of course." You had assured him "But there must be something fun that you want to do, no? You can't spend your birthday stuck at home with me all day. That'll get boring, Junnie"

"Never"

So that is what led you to this situation - slipping out of bed at six in the morning to quietly make your way into the living room.

In hopes of not disturbing Junhui who's still curled up on his side, soft hair falling to his face as he sleeps, you grab your clothes and make your way to the guest washroom to get ready for the day.

Once you're done with your shower, you pad into the kitchen to start breakfast. The pancake mix had been sitting in the fridge already so you turn on the stove before pulling out a batch of berries you'd picked up from the market yesterday. And as quietly and fast as you could, you get the signature pancakes with blueberry eyes and whipped cream smiles done before he wakes up.

It's almost seven when you're cleaning up the kitchen, the plate of breakfast sitting on the counter next to a large gift bag and a pink envelope addressed to my moon.

My moon,

Hi, my angel. By the time you find this, I'd probably be out of the house. If not I'm probably hiding behind the couch but don't look for me there. I know you don't like waking up to an empty house but I promise love, I'm just out to get you some flowers. That's an excuse for you know I can't stand the sight of you even slightly sad and that's why I ran.

But I'll be back with your flowers before you even realize I'm gone, okay? Don't worry too much pretty boy.

You know that I'm not good with words, Jun, that's why I'm writing a letter in the first place. If only I had the guts to say all this to your face. Because you deserve nothing else, baby, nothing else. But I'm a coward when it comes to voicing out my love to you so here I am in the kitchen at three in the morning, two glasses of wine deep because I'm scared I'll mess this up if I'm sober or if it's not dark outside.

So, it's your birthday today - and no matter how many times you ask me to be normal about it and not call it your womb escape anniversary and make a whole scene - you know I'm going to

When else am I going to celebrate you, my Jun?

You know that if I could, I would, everyday for the rest of my life. Because you deserve nothing less than that.

Sometimes you say that you don't deserve me, or that I'm too good for you. And it makes me so sad because, Jun, what you don't realize is how lucky I am to have you in my life. If anything, I'm not good enough for you.

When I met you years ago, you still in your bleached hair, I never thought for a moment that you'd be the person I'd want to spend the rest of my life with. Not because I never saw you as someone I'd want to share my life with, but rather because how? How in the world can I call you, the kindest, the prettiest and the most beautiful soul I've ever met, mine.

Every single day that I wake up to you lying next to me, I thank the moon for bringing you to me. I don't know what good I'd done in my past life to have this kind of love, have you in my life.

I hadn't realised something was missing from my life till you showed up in front of me, Jun. With your silly little smile and your pretty face and the bounce in your step, you slowly opened the door to a world I had never even known to exist before. I hadn't realised what it meant to love until you came along angel.

I thought I'd been in love, before, you know? I thought love was fancy dinners in restaurants I couldn't afford for a night. I thought love was kisses that you share for the whole world to see. I thought it was going our my way to make myself better for someone else.

But, no.

You're the one who showed me that love is the 'good morning' you mumble around a toothbrush, the leftovers you put in the microwave for me, the sticky notes on the fridge, sending pictures of the sky even if it looks ordinary, the hair tie you keep around your wrist. Love is the way you follow me around the house, the way I cling to you when I come home. Love is putting a blanket on me when I fall asleep on the couch. Love is raising little pixel babies and running a shop in cats & soup.

I think loving you is the easiest thing I have ever done, Junhui. It comes to me as natural as breathing. I didn't need a handler or a guidebook to learn how to love you - actually, I don't think I learned at all. Loving you was so easy that I didn't even realize I did. I didn't realize how much I loved you until I thought about losing you.

You asked me once what my biggest fear was and I said heights because I'm a coward like that. But in truth, a life without you is my biggest fear, I think. Now that I have you, now that I've gotten a taste of what being loved by you feels like, I don't think I'll ever want to let you go. I'm scared I'll never want to let you go. I hope you never want to let me go either, my love. I don't think I'll ever be okay with that.

People like you and me, we don't let ourselves have nice things, Jun. We think it's a burden to be loved, to love. We think it's too much to want to be held and cared for. We think we don't deserve to be loved. But we do. We can have that, my love. You, me, we all deserved to be loved gently. We all deserve the impromptu flowers and the good night message and the 'I love you's. It's hard to not listen to the tiny voice in the back of your head saying you don't deserve this, but you do, Junhui. You deserve to be loved for your soul if not much more.

As much as you don't believe me when I say you're the best thing that happened to me, deep down we both know that each other is what keeps us grounded, we both know. You keep me afloat, Junhui. When I feel like a ship wrecked in the middle of the ocean, you're the one who keeps me afloat and guides me to the shore. You might not know it or not believe it, but without you, I'd be falling apart.

Without me, I believe you would be okay. Manage. But ultimately, I wouldn't be okay without you.

So, as selfish as it sounds, I'm going to let myself have this one thing for the rest of my life. I'm going to keep you next to my heart and love you for as long as you let me have you.

Selfishly, I can only ask you to do the same. Love me as long as you can, keep me in your heart for as long as you can, my moon.

Happy Birthday, angel. I love you for an eternity.

From earth, to the moon, underwater, on shore, with every star in the galaxy, I will love you with everything I have till we're foods for the worms to eat.

Yours forever.

You knew it was going to make him cry, you knew. That's one of the main reasons you left the house with an excuse to get flowers. You could have gotten the goddamn flowers delivered to your doorstep. Hell, you could have even done it yesterday. But if there was anything you hated, it was seeing Junhui cry. So running away with a flimsy excuse seemed like the best thing to do at the time.

Junhui knew it too - how much it pained you to see him cry. He also knew that it had taken a lot out of you to write that letter. You've never been comfortable with professing your feelings into words and voicing them upright. You showed your love through random gifts thrown his way with a shy 'saw this and thought about you' or occasional 'did you eat?' messages throughout the day that translated into a quiet I love you.

Your love was quiet, but it was strong.

It seeps from you and circles around his whole being, holding him tight until he's grounded to the very earth he stands on. It kept him whole, kept him together.

So this, writing down everything on your mind, two drinks in or not, he knows it must have taken a lot out of you. And the mere thought of you sitting in the kitchen with your head in your hands, trying to turn your feelings into words, destroyed him.

He knows he should have stopped crying when he hears the familiar sound of the front door opening. You're back. You're back and god, he needs to get himself together.

"Jun?"

You call out and he can hear the hesitance in your voice. You know he's read the letter and it breaks him to realize that you're probably nervous to face him after such a vulnerable pour of emotions. He wishes he could stop crying but it's so so hard when the words on the paper made him feel like he got stabbed in the heart. And the way some words were blotched in a way only tears could do, twister the knife in the wound even more.

So, here he is now, bleeding on the kitchen counter because he feels loved more than he has ever felt in his entire life of twenty-eight years.

"Jun"

You stand in front of him, lingering in the kitchen door as your face falls at the sight of him. He guesses he doesn't look his best right now. He's bracing himself up against the counter, trying not to fall even more apart as his fingers grip the letter. Valid.

He can't even answer you, let alone acknowledge you. He's still trying to stop his crying and failing miserably right in front of you.

Junhui watches as you carefully approach him with the bouquet you had brought home for him. It's a mix of daisies and baby's breath wrapped in a see-through paper and Junhui thinks it's so pretty. If he wasn't so preoccupied with his sobbing, he would have bounced up to you and accepted it with a big smile and a kiss on your cheek.

"You're crying" Junhui almost laughs as you blindly state the obvious. Your eyes are wide as you reach him, the bouquet still in your clutch. "Why are you crying"

"You're the one who made me cry" He says through his tears, tone accusatory. "This letter- what you wrote, yn it's- It's so...I don't even know- god"

With the force he throws himself at you, he's surprised you manage to stay upright. Junhui curls around your body, arms winding around your frame as he pushes his face to your neck. You can feel the way your skin dampens with his tears.

Carefully putting down the bouquet on the counter, you circle your arms around his shoulders and pull him into your embrace a little tighter.

"I didn't want to cry on my birthday" Junhui whispers, lips fluttering against your skin.

I'm sorry. "I'm not sorry, Jun"

You feel him still in your hold for a fleeting moment before he pulls back to look at your face.

"I'd wanted to say all that for a long time, Jun" You say as you bring a hand up to cradle his face. As always, he leans into it like a preening cat. "I'm sorry for making you cry. But I'm not sorry for anything I said"

Junhui lurches forward to hide his face again, another one of those heartbreaking sobs on the tip of his tongue. You hold him tighter, if it's even possible, as he breaks down on you. One hand rubbing comforting circles on his back, moving the both of you back and forth in a rhythm, you hold him until he's calmed down enough to breathe through his nose. When he pulls away this time, his face is crumpled in a kind of embarrassment and shyness.

"Oh, my baby" You can't help but coo at the sight of his flushed nose and damp eyes. "You're a wreck"

"Your fault" Junhui grumbles before bringing up a hand to wipe at his eyes. You chuckle as you cradle his face and wipe away the tears clinging to his cheek.

"Happy Birthday" You almost whisper, holding his face in the palms of your hand. "You look beautiful"

Junhui averts his eyes from yours, the shyness slithering up his spine at a rapid speed. He doesn't voice out his thank you but it shows in the way the tips of his ears turn red under wisps of soft brown hair.

"Oh- the flowers" You quickly move to pick up the bouquet from the counter. With a coy smile of your own, you hand it to Junhui who takes it with a smile and a soft,

"Thank you. They're so pretty"

Junhui is taller than you, so to land the kiss perfectly square on his forehead, you have to reach up on your tiptoes. Junhui laughs and ducks down when he realizes what you're trying to do. Lifting to hold him by the neck, you press your lips against his forehead.

Junhui only pulls you back in after putting away the bouquet. He takes you by the waist before leaning down to catch your lips with his, pressing forward and dripping honey sweet pure love onto you with a sealed kiss. Your hands cradle the back of his neck as he leans forward, tipping you ever so slightly backwards as his love bleeds through every press of his lips against yours.

Even when he pulls away to breathe, he keeps his forehead pressed to yours, holding you as close as he possibly could.

"I love you so much" You whisper. "I think I made that clear in the letter"

Junhui laughs before pulling you into a hug again. A proper one this time with your face pressed to his shoulder and his lips pressing kisses to the crown of your head.

Your fingers unconsciously grip the back of his shirt tightly like you're scared he'll disappear into the day before you. It makes him think back to what you're written on the letter. About how your biggest fear is a life without him. How you won't be able to live if you didn't have him.

And it makes Junhui come to a realisation of his own. Ultimately, he wouldn't be okay without you either.

Thinking back to how you had claimed you're going to keep holding on to him as long as you can, as selfish as it may sound, Junhui realises that yeah, this is what love means to him. This is the sole reason he's been standing for so long.

Even though there's still a voice in the back of his head screaming that he doesn't deserve this kind of love, he decides that yes, he's going to let himself have this. The pure need to selfishly love you for the rest of your lives overpowers whatever voice screaming at him anyway.

From earth, to the moon, underwater, on shore, with every star in the galaxy, he's going to hold on to this for as long as he can bear. Because there's nothing more he wants than to love you with everything he's got. All until you're food for the worms to eat.

Junhui, true to your words, very selfishly hopes that you keep his hands in yours and your heart in his until your fingers decompose.

For you're his forever as well.

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sink-me-in-your-ocean · 9 months

Text

Equilibrium

Phantom Ghoul x fem!Reader Smut

Summary: (Kinda) Part of a "Choose your own adventure" series in progress, but it works well enough on its own so I thought I would post it now.

WC: 3620

A/N: This one has bewitched me, (feral) body and soul. Fellow Phantom simps, this one is for you, but mostly me.

Content warnings: no plot - only spice, fingering, P in V sex. 18+ only. Minors DNI.

NSFW below the cut.

Your hard fist hit the door three times. Impatience was one of your most prominent traits and you’d be damned if you didn’t hate waiting on somebody else. Especially when that somebody else was the one who had plagued your thoughts for weeks. And at night his name was the one uttered from your lips from your own self-pleasure.

You grabbed the door handle and twisted, discovering much to your chagrin that was unlocked and you had been standing out here all this time. You walk into the room, scanning the space, noting the chill that bit your limbs. Fucking hells it was freezing. Your sisters told you that the ghouls run hot, but it was like a blizzard had hit the room. The room was also, to your dismay, empty of occupants. Maybe he’s not here?

Your ears perked up, hearing water running from an adjoined room. The joints of your fingers started to lock up as you lifted them to the wood of what you assumed was a bathroom door. You knocked, this time feeling a slight pain in your cold hands as you did so.

“Phantom?” You call out just loud enough, dragging out the vowels.

“Hey! You weren’t supposed to come ‘till later!” His voice echoed from inside the closed room, and you heard the water shut off abruptly.

“I can come back if you want.” You offered, giving him an out.

“Hells no!” He opened the door wearing nothing but a white towel.

Your mouth went dry at the sight. It hung low. Dangerously low. But that wasn’t the only thing you noticed. His human glamor was nowhere to be found.

Phantom’s true skin was grey, just the same as you had heard about the other ghouls, but his shoulders and chest had sparse midnight blue clusters of freckles. You marveled at the hard planes of his chest and stomach, at the way the water from the shower still clung to his arms and drenched his mostly-black hair. His signature white streak plastered itself to his forehead and the side of his face, while the rest stuck to his ears and neck. He had two near-black horns protruding from underneath his soggy hair. Finally, you settled your gaze on his face, his fangs slightly poked out through his parted lips. His beauty mark was also visible on his left cheek, several shades darker against the grey tones of his skin.

A half-smile spread on your face as you noticed his beauty spot, and you fought the urge to reach up and touch his cheek.

“Like what you see?” He cocked his head to the side, making you grin wider. It was truly no wonder why you were so drawn to him. In his human form he was cute… but as a ghoul? Strikingly handsome. Nine hells you wanted to kiss him.

“Maybe I do.”

“Set in your choice?”

“Maybe I am.” You nibbled your bottom lip, tempted to rake your gaze over Phantom’s body again.

Instead, you walked past him and into the bathroom, leaning yourself over the vanity to feign checking yourself out. You mostly just needed a break from looking at him half-naked. “My darling ghoul,” you called absently, “you’re not wearing your glamor. Sister Imperator would not be pleased, I wouldn’t want to tell on you, but…”

He looked down at himself, “Oh shit, you’re right.” He shrugged, “I thought you were going to change your mind or something. Figured it wouldn’t matter too much either way if I just ‘let it all hang out’ so to speak.”

“No, no, I just wanted to tell you so you could change back.” You played with your hair, tucking back a few strands that had come loose from your braid.

“Well, I can if you want me to. Do you?”

You opened your mouth to answer but he cut you off.

“Wait, did you just call me ‘my darling’?” Your eyes flicked back to him through the mirror, heart temporarily quivering as he repeated your words back to you.

You regained your composure before his teasing look could disarm you further. “That’s what you heard out of me talking?”

He advanced on you suddenly, barely giving you enough time to turn around to face him. You backed up against the counter top, your spine arching as you shrunk back, and your fingernails digging into the underside of the cold marble. His arms came down on either side to trap you in place.

There was a mix of anticipation and cockiness in his expression, “You like me, don’t you?”

“Phantom, it’s a wonder why Sister Imperator doesn’t consult you for logistics.” He made a face, clearly missing your sarcasm, and you liked him even more for it. “Of course I like you. I wouldn’t be here if not.”

A shy smile ghosted across his lips, and you caught another glimpse of those fangs. You filled the silence by speaking again, “Well? Don’t just leave me hanging.”

“I like you too.” His admission was softer than a feather but weighed as much as concrete.

You stifled a knowing smile, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“You’re a little trickster then.” You cocked your head, “you had me thinking I was the only one.”

His smile matched yours, “I’m surprised you didn’t figure it out sooner, for a while there I thought I’d burst into flames because you kept giving me those eyes.” You laughed at that, knowing full well what he meant, and he continued, “And just so you’re well aware, there’s nothing about me that’s little.”

“Oh, you nasty ghoul.”

“Yes?”

Your eyes narrowed, “You lured me in here on purpose, didn’t you?”

“Hard to say, really,” you watched, hypnotized as his tongue wet his bottom lip and then he leaned in close. “But that’s not the only thing that’s hard.” His breath coasted along your neck and goosebumps raised along the path, as if your skin was subconsciously reaching for him. You felt his lips barely hovering by the shell of your ear, causing a stirring sensation that shot through your entire body.

You shoved at his chest playfully and he smirked at you, both of you knowing where this is going. You felt a fluttering in the pit of your stomach and finally allowed yourself to reach your hand up, brushing the white and black, slightly air-dried, hair away from his face. No more hesitation. Something inside you gave you the gumption to raise up on your tiptoes and kiss him. You planted a single smooch on his lips, closing your eyes as you did.

You drew back, studying his features. He was so still, his eyes scrunched closed in a combination of tension and serenity.

“Phantom?”

He opened his eyes, his dark gaze devouring you. The air in the room changed and all ambient sound seemed to have been sucked into a void. You couldn’t look away from him. Afraid for a half of a second that maybe he didn’t like the kiss, you opened your mouth to allow the doubt to pour out. But you never got a single syllable out before his hands were on your face, tilting your head up to kiss you.

His mouth met yours in a breath-stealing kiss. Your hands immediately laced through his damp hair, touching the sides of his face, his neck, pulling him in closer. You parted your lips slightly on the next kiss and he used it to his advantage, his tongue swiping ever so lightly between your lips to taste you. You open your mouth more, allowing him full access. Feeling his tongue brush yours made you lightheaded.

Phantom grabbed your waist, pulling you flush against him. He tilted his head slightly, deepening the kiss. The hunger shared between the two of you felt as though it had been building for years, your entire life even. A tickle on the back of your thigh made you jump, opening your eyes and breaking the kiss for a moment.

He huffed a laugh, “Sorry, my tail seems to have a mind of its own sometimes.”

“It’s okay,” you kissed him again, “I like it.” You brazenly reached around his waist to feel the base of his tail. He jerked involuntarily towards you and you felt his hard length pressing against your abdomen. How that towel was holding up you had no idea.

Touching, tasting, breathing him in, it wasn’t enough. You needed so much more. Your core ached in a way that silenced all thoughts of self-doubt and modesty.

Your hands moved up his back, feeling his warm skin and the tight muscles underneath. He unzipped the back of your dress, and you felt it fall open, the air and his hands touching your bare skin underneath.

“No bra?” He said, sliding your dress down while moving into a crouched position in front of you.

“Hm.” You purse your lips, drawing it out, “That’s not all.”

He made a sound like you’d imagine a Victorian man seeing a woman’s ankles. Astonished but intrigued. “No underwear?”

You shrugged, “Surprised? I thought I could just ‘let it all hang out’, or however you put it so eloquently.”

Phantom stared up at you, trying to hide a smile, and you could see a color creeping up over his cheeks. Could a ghoul even blush? He giggled lightly, shaking his head at you in what seemed like amazement.

He helped you step out of the dress, his eyes sweeping over your naked frame, drinking all of you in. Phantom rose slowly and his long fingers trailed up the inside of your legs. The calluses of his fingertips tickled, making you twitch slightly as they neared where you wanted to feel him the most. His right hand moved around to your waist, the other hesitated between your legs, just an inch or so from your core.

“Sit.” He commanded. You obeyed, your ass meeting the countertop, your legs parting on their own accord in silent invitation.

“Please, Phantom, touch me.”

“As you wish.”

You inhaled sharply as his middle finger swiped through your folds, dragging languidly in the wetness there. He let out a needy noise, leaning down to breathe you in, kissing and sucking your neck. You wanted him so badly, and now that he could feel that, the implication made you even more weak for him.

His middle and ring fingers dragged again through your wetness, lingering for a moment before pressing inside you.

You cried out at the intrusion, wincing slightly. It had been so long since you had a partner, and still your fingers never made you feel like this. Phantom knew all the right moves, drawing in and out at a steady pace. His fingers felt exquisite as they lazily fucked your slick cunt. And when his thumb pressed lightly against your clit, you whined his name. Suddenly you needed to see him exposed too, because if just his fingers made you feel so good then…

“You won’t be needing this.” You pulled his towel off his body, baring him before you. Your eyes widened at the size of him. Fuck. Your mouth salivated at the sight of his long, hard cock. You couldn’t stare too long, as his lips moved from their place on your neck and collarbone back to your lips.

Each kiss, every touch was hotter than the last, igniting the two of you. He was burning up. He felt perfect against your ice cold skin. Like a day of sun in the middle of a desolate winter.

You had half a mind to beg him to fuck you on the counter, and it’s like he knew were about to speak, because he interrupted your thought with an even more tantalizing suggestion.

“Can I fuck you in the shower?”

You moaned, his fingers curling inside you deliciously, “What do we say when we want something, darling ghoul?”

He groaned, his hand moving from your waist to the nape of your neck. He gathered your braid and yanked sharply, exposing more of your neck for him to lavish. “Fuck,” he uttered between bites along your soft skin, “can I please take you in the shower?”

“Yes.” Your word was barely out of your mouth when he planted another fierce kiss to your lips. His fingers left you empty as he helped you off the counter. You would have followed him anywhere at that moment, anything to get him touching you again.

He took you by one hand and walked towards the shower with you, kissing you every step of the way until your feet hit the slick stone of the shower floor. He gave your hands a squeeze to turn around and turn the water on. You smirked at seeing his cute butt, his tail protruding from just above. You were filled with the sudden urge to bite him when a large waterfall nozzle poured water out from above the two of you, bringing you back out of your thoughts.

Phantom turned to face you again, and all the sustenance in the world couldn’t quench the hunger in his eyes. Your adrenaline spiked then - or maybe it was the momentarily cold water splashing on your feet. Maybe it was the anticipation of knowing that you were finally living the fantasy you had wanted for so long.

He pressed you against the tiled wall of the shower, the now warm water flowing down providing sweet relief for your chilled naked body. Your back was cold against the tile, so you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck to pull him closer. For warmth.

The two of you shared a series of messy kisses, your lungs suffocating from the intense lack of air as steam circled you. He closed the open space between your bodies quickly, his strong hand taking hold of your right leg and lifting it up to meet his waist. Once there, you were just one slight move from being as close together as you could possibly be. The head of his cock nudged at your opening, and you felt yourself instinctively clench with want. The water from the shower did a great job making your whole body wet, but you were dripping with need for him.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

Your gaze moved up to his. Phantom’s dark eyes were clouded with lust, but wavered in slight trepidation. He was serious, wanting your full consent before going any further. For a beat, your heart stuttered in your chest, knowing there would be no going back if you two did this. You couldn’t say no, though, there was something primal in you that screamed with demand. He was the only one you wanted, and you wanted him desperately.

Heart still pounding, you reached up to touch his cheek and pulled him down into a passionate kiss. You broke the kiss to give him your answer, “Yes, yes Phantom, I want you.”

He nodded, eyes flicking over your face to search for any hits of doubt. Satisfied with your sincerity, he nuzzled his face into your neck, breathing you in deeply as he pulled you in. His cock pressed inside you with ease, meeting no resistance. You bit back a moan, teeth sinking into your bottom lip so hard you tasted iron on your tongue. If kissing him for the first time was ecstasy, feeling him inside you for the first time was oblivion.

“Oh fuck.” Your foreheads pressed together and you exhaled heavily as he sheathed himself inside you.

It was like a switch had flipped, you two went from frantic grasping and fevered kisses to slow, intentional movements. His right hand cradled the back of your head as he thrust into you with a deep rhythm that made your stomach tighten. He raised your right leg up higher so you were on your tiptoes, trying to press further inside you.

The water from the shower head cascaded down your skin in rivulets, adding a tickling sensation over your breasts and your stomach as it trickled over you. It felt like something out of a fucking romance novel. The heat, the chill, the need, the gratification; a perfect equilibrium.

His hand grabbed greedily at your left thigh, “I need you closer.”

A feather of a laugh lifted the corners of your lips, “I don’t think that’s possible.” You kissed him again, sucking his bottom lip into your mouth and biting it. He growled, fangs jutting out to try to bite you back. You moved your face away, seeing the playfulness in his pitch-dark eyes mixed with something mischievous.

“It is.” That was the only warning he gave before he lifted you up effortlessly off the floor. Your legs wrapped reflexively around his waist and you gasped at the sensation of weightlessness.

You felt a furious blush burn over your face and neck, flustered at the ease with which he picked you up. Flushed at the way his cock bottomed out inside you fully. Your walls tightened from the additional intrusion, and you moaned into his mouth. Your lips collided together in a series of heady open-mouthed kisses, becoming a mess of teeth, tongues, and fangs.

Your hands tangled themselves perfectly in his drenched hair and you rested your head against the tile to get a good look at him.

His dark brows were drawn together, and he had the look of utmost concentration and pleasure on his face as he drove into your heat. There was a deepening of the color on his cheeks again, a soft blush. He adjusted his hands from your thighs to have one arm firmly around your back, the other hand holding the roundness of your ass. Phantom’s eyes were turned down, and you followed where he was looking.

You let your gaze drift down, admiring again his toned, hard body against your soft, squishy one. When you looked all the way down to where you two were joined, watching and feeling everywhere each and every thrust of his cock inside you, you felt like you would melt.

It was all so intimate, too intimate for your first time together. Seeing his true form, being held so tightly in his arms, fuck, he had you. He had you so well. And the way he felt inside of you was divine. Like you were made for each other.

Your body burned, your muscles trembled, your jaw twitched. Phantom tightened his hands on your waist and back, his claws scratching at your supple skin while his teeth and tongue took turns with your neck. His tail snaked up and twisted around your ankle, locking you further in place as if you’d run away on your own. You couldn’t even think of being apart from him. You never wanted him to leave your body.

As if the passion in the moment wasn’t enough, he reached a hand between you two, finding your clit and rubbing slow circles. You keened, bucking your hips forward, trying to grind harder against him, but he was in full control, holding you steady while he increased his rhythm. You felt a tension building in your abdomen, and you closed your eyes tightly, trying to resist your impending orgasm. You didn’t want to come yet, you wanted to draw it out more, but the added pressure on your clit from his thumb was butchering your resolve. Your breathing increased, every exhale punctuated by a whine as you felt yourself getting closer, and closer.

He noticed your futile writhing in his arms, “Are you going to come for me, pretty girl?”

You mewled, “Yes - but I want you to -” you couldn’t finish the sentiment, incoherent babbling becoming all you could muster. You were so close.

“You want me to? Where do you want me to come?”

“Inside me -” Your legs tensed, your abdomen tensed, your whole body locking up as your pussy clenched around him. You could no longer breathe or think.

“Fall apart for me, only me.” He kissed your neck, sucking on the skin there before drawing back. “Look into my eyes, sweet girl.”

You did, his near-black irises melted you from the inside. That taught string that had been holding you snapped, sending you spiraling. Your mouth fell open and a moan tore its way from your throat. He planted his lips to yours as you shattered in his arms.

His hands both moved up to your shoulders, pulling you down hard onto his cock as he drove himself as deep within you as possible. You felt him twitching inside you, warmth spreading as he came for you.

You stay there for a minute, your breathing returning slowly to a normal cadence as the water continues to run over the both of you. You were wholly grateful for his inhuman strength; Phantom held you like you weighed nothing. He put one hand under your rear and the other came up to your face, his thumb stroked your bottom lip. His fingers caressed your chin, tilting you up and into one final searing kiss to seal your shared passion.

“Can you stand?” He withdrew himself from you and moved to gently place your legs back down on the stone floor.

“I - I think so.” Your stubborn legs wanted to give out, all your body wanted to do was collapse in a heap.

He offered you his hand, helping steady you. “Want to get cleaned up? I mean, we might as well since we’re already in the shower.”

“Yes,” you answered, before playfully adding, “please.”

“What am I going to do with you?” He whispered, kissing your forehead as you both relaxed in the steady stream of water.

#the band ghost #the band ghost x reader smut #the band ghost x reader #phantom ghoul #phantom ghoul x reader #phantom ghoul smut #phantom ghoul x reader smut #aeon ghoul

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klodwig · 6 months

Text

"Because all of this is bullshit!" Hux said. "All I... believed in is... bullshit."

He sat on the floor. Silly little Christmas elf. Ginger one. Pretty... cute in Kylo's opinion.

"What is?"

" Naughty. Children. Shouldn’t. Get. Gifts."

"It's obvious," said Kylo carefully.

"NO!"

He never thought that in one little elf there can be so much anger and wrath.

"No! Here is... not so little boy, who kil- murdered the cat of one poor old woman who lives nearby. Is he naughty?"

"Sure."

"But "we cant leave him without gifts, 'cause his father is a merchant and it's gonna be strange if he'll got nothing!" Do you hear that?!"

Hux smiled, wide and creepy.

"But you know, who really will have nothing in this year? Grandson of this old woman. He must come home not later than at nine every day, but in that evening he reeled on the streets with lantern till midnight and called for that poor cat. And... voila. He is in naughty list, because he was late home. And I... was demoted for questions. So... if you want to eat me - well. Go ahead."

He closed his eyes as if he really waited that Kylo will eat him right now, but Krampus only laughed.

"Pf. You think, I'll eat old and bony elf when I can have tasty little murderer? Isn't it stupid?"

***

"I took those candies from beneath the Christmas tree. He won’t need them anymore."

Kylo looked full and satisfied. Hux was afraid that he will smell blood, but around Kylo there was nothing new - he could only smell coal and maybe a little bit ofsugar.

"You can give it to another tasteless child, if you want".

#art #star wars #kylux #armitage hux #au #kylo ren #krampus #christmas

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rizzyu · 6 months

Text

Hot Spring HC

Pairing: Vox, Mysta, Luca, Ike, Shu x gn! reader

Category: Fluff, slightly suggestive

Warning: Nudity (I KNOW WHAT U ARE.), really slight mentions of the saxophone dance

A/N: bc I love hot spring prompts :)

Vox Akuma

Are you really gonna believe that this man is not gonna flirt with you the moment you step into the onsen with him?

You had stepped into the onsen and Vox already have his arms around your waist.

“Darling you look so hot.” “Vox, I just got in, have some patience.”

After a few minutes of calming down Vox, you would help untangle and wash his onyx coloured hair

Bro loves leaving kisses all around your shoulders and neck and he would be such a tease

“Getting flustered already? I barely even did anything”

And also whether it’s when you were both back in your hotel room, or when you were still in the hot spring, you would eventually be doing the saxophone dance :)

I shall not elaborate on that :)

Mysta Rias

There’s this really funny thing I thought of:

What if when Mysta went in the onsen, he was so unused to that heat that he just started screaming and jumping around

*mentally laughs*

Anyways just like Vox he would be so lovestruck when you joined him in the onsen

But unlike Vox he wouldn’t be straight up announcing his admiration for you

“Fucking hell, why are you so hot?” He’d mutter

His face, ears and neck would be all warm and flushed. And he was hoping you would think that was because of the hot spring (it wasn’t)

Oh but you knew what was going on and you would bully him for it lol

“Heheh your cheeks seems kinda red” >:)

“WH-WHAT? IT’S THE HOT SPRING”

“uh hUhhhhh ok..”

Luca Kaneshiro

I know what you are.

You’re gonna be shamelessly stare at his booba don’t even try to object

But he was feeling happy that you came to the hot spring with him, so he let you lay on them just this once :)

Though he still denied that they aren’t big.

“I’m glad you let me lay on theeeem… they’re so big and squishy.” “What?? Th-they aren’t big!”

Oh man but like picture this: tracing his tattoos

You would be sending shivers down his spine when he felt your feathery light touch on his tattoos

As well as leaving little kisses along his tattoos

You would have gotten him floating on cloud nine

But you’d also be just cuddling and chilling in the onsen till your fingers get all wrinkly

Ike Eveland

Ike’s glasses would get covered by the steam, no doubt. Maybe because that also happens to me all the time

And you would laugh at him saying he looks like one of those smart anime characters with glasses. Maybe because my friends also do that to me all the time

Anyways, soaking in the hot spring with Ike would be so cute tho

CUDDLES :D

Cuddling with Ike is always so cute tho

You would be giving him little kissies here and there

And then you both felt so comfy in the presence of each other that you eventually fell asleep together

Ike would wake up later for him to realise it was past midnight

He’d carry you back to your hotel room and help you get ready for bed :)

Shu Yamino

HE’S A SHY BOI

He was too embarrassed to look at you man what a cutie patootie

“Shu yknow you don’t have to turn your head away the whole time right? You can look, I won’t mind.”

Shu slowly turned to face you. His eyes still avoiding you as his cheeks were in a pretty shade of pink.

Ok but I think you would be such a tease because of how shy he is in the hot spring

Yknow like being more touchy and making him stiffen every time he was under your touch.

You were making his heart go literally insane but he was too cute for you to stop

I mean… it wasn’t like he didn’t like it…

#riyugu writing #yorutenshi riyugu #nijisanjien #nijisanjien x reader #luxiem #luxiem x reader #nijisanji #nijisanji x reader #luxiem x reader fluff #vox akuma #vox akuma x reader #mysta rias #mysta rias x reader #luca kaneshiro #luca kaneshiro x reader #ike eveland #ike eveland x reader #shu yamino x reader #shu yamino

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the-lonelybarricade · 8 months

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A collection of scary, thrilling, monster, or otherwise halloween themed feysand fics to help you get into the spooky mood!

All fics are arbitrarily rated on a scale of 1-5 👻's in terms of intensity/spookiness!

SFW

Modern:

A trail of pomegranate seeds by @msfeyredarling - Feyre and Rhys (strangers at the time) both go to the same Halloween party and they realize their costumes match (👻- adorable meet cute!)

What's Your Favorite Scary Movie by @a-courtofdreams - Feyre is preparing for a scary movie night when she gets a series of phone calls from a stranger with a question. What's your favorite scary movie? (👻👻👻👻👻 - spooky thriller!)

Halloween Costume by @reverie-tales - Feyre wants to do a couple costume with Rhys but he refuses. He doesn't like to dress up, he never really did. So Feyre asks Cassian instead. (👻 - pure fluff!)

Scaring is Caring by @the-lonelybarricade - A few drinks into reluctantly being dragged out of the house to celebrate Halloween, Mor suggests they go to a haunted house. But things don't exactly go according to plan. (👻 - unconventional meet cute)

Please Be more Carveful by @live-the-fangirl-life - After a disastrous pumpkin carving incident, Feyre's case becomes the latest in a string of Halloween-related incidents at Rhys' hospital. (👻- feysand fluff and sexy dr. Rhys)

trick or treat by @quakeriders - The next photo took her breath away. She was dressed like a witch. Eight years old, holding onto a broom like her life depended on it and scowling at a nine year old boy, who was wearing a huge pair of bat wings and grinned down at her mischievously. (👻- fluffy childhood friends AU)

Halloween by queenarcheron - Rhysand and Feyre watch a scary movie together (👻 - Illyrian baby needs his big strong girlfriend to protect him)

Are You Scared by AcrossASeaOfStars - Rhysand decides to invite all his friends to go to Velaris's most haunted house. The group decide to take bets on who will need to tap out and who won't be scared at all. (👻 - light hearted fun with the acotar gang!)

Every Vandal for Themself by @elentiyawhitethorn - Cassian Illyrian and Morrigan Hewn. Flirts, party-goers, best friends, roommates, and most importantly, remorseless pranksters. Feyre, Lucien, and Azriel, all victims of their Halloween pranks, decide they need to get revenge. (👻 - whats a little Halloween prank between friends?)

Canon:

Foreshadowing by absurdvampmuse - It was All Hallows’ Eve & the invite from the Night Court was heavy with cordial words & adornments. Feyre played on the image Tamlin had of her, even took him into consideration when coming up with her costume. Though she was truly going for him: Rhysand. (👻 - spooky fluff that will put you in your early acomaf feels)

The Cookie Monster by wingsofanillyrian -Rhys and Feyre hear a bump in the night... (👻- the most adorable midnight haunting)

A Court of Thorns and Roses Halloween by @bookofmirth - A set of prompts received on tumblr, specifically for Halloween. Some are fluffy, while many are creepy and/or gory. (👻👻👻👻 - readers beware, you're in for a scare!)

Down the Water Well by @the-lonelybarricade - Never go near the water well. For eleven years, Feyre obeyed her mother’s command. Except now, she was standing on the edge of that barren circle, staring at the stone well at the top of the hill. (👻👻👻 - whatever it is can't be that bad... right?)

Monster/AU:

Till Death Do Us Part by @the-lonelybarricade - Feyre makes a deal with the Grimm Reaper for a second chance at life... as his bride (👻 - fluffy slice of life)

Howling Moon by @writtenonreceipts - There is a dark spirit taunting the wolves of Velaris and only one witch that can stop it. (👻👻 - super fun urban fantasy mystery!)

Turn Your Ghosts Into Mine by @separatist-apologist and @highladydawn - The Archeron women have been considered witches in their little Massachusetts town of Velaris for centuries and Nesta, Elain, and Feyre are no exceptions. After witnessing a love spell gone horribly wrong, the three young girls create a spell for their perfect man, vowing they will not love until they meet this man. (👻👻 - the Archeron sisters have never looked sexier than when they were covering up a murder)

Accidentally In Love by @shallyne - Feyre likes her life as a witch. She's living in a cute cottage and makes potions, her best friend is visiting her all the time. But one day, her friend accidentally sips from her love potion and Feyre has to keep an eye on him (👻 - What if I slipped you a love potion and we kissed a little? jkjk... unless?)

I Can't Help Falling In Love With You by @amusedowl - Feysand Angst set in an Apocalyse au (👻👻 - you're going to need tissues for this one, but you can turn them into spooky ghosts after!)

Crimson Starlight by @asnowfern - Vampire Rhys and human Feyre falling in love in 1880s Paris. (👻 - a STUNNING fic that perfectly captures the victorian gothic aesthetic)

Chasing Tails by runningwater - The most wanted woman in town has announced that she’ll only marry the one who can open her front door with the key from around her cat’s neck. Many men try to hunt the cat down, chase and trap it, but to no avail, the cat is simply too quick, smart and clever, and always finds a way to evade and avoid them. (👻- cat-shifter regency AU? Say less)

NSFW

Modern:

Confessed Sins and Ripped Stockings by vxlkyrie7 - Feyre attends a halloween party and goes home with an unfairly gorgeous priest (👻 - spooky spice!)

Is There A Word For Bad Miracle by @separatist-apologist - That time Rhys stumbled on Feyre committing a murder and decided he had to have her (👻👻 - who says murder doesn't count as foreplay?)

Canon:

Would You Like Me On My Knees? by @starfall-spirit - Angered by her deception, Rhys sends Feyre home, freeing her from their marriage and bargain made Under the Mountain, all too soon finding that to be the worst mistake he's made in five centuries. (👻👻 - mean beast!Rhys makes an appearance in this Silver-Tongued Bride offshoot!)

Five Times the Beast Was Subdued (and the One Time It Wasn't) by @the-lonelybarricade - A short chronical of canon moments Rhys grappled with his 'baser side' and the one time Feyre coaxed it out to play. (👻 - beast!Rhys only wants one thing and it's to please his wife)

Bejeweled by @thesistersarcheron - Every court has their own Great Rite with unique, ancient traditions. The Night Court’s priestesses have played coy with Rhysand since he inherited the throne last year about what imbuing the land with his power really means; all they tell him is that he is meant to spend the night in the Night Court’s mines dripping in ceremonial jewels while everyone else gets to attend the orgy without him. (👻 - to shreds you say?)

As the World Falls Down by @thesistersarcheron - Sometimes in the dead of night on the way to the kitchen for a glass of water, I see an extra door in the hallway, black and imposing. (👻👻👻 - what happens when Feyre never slays the wolf and faerie has to come to her instead 👀)

Monster/AU:

Be a Doll, Darling by @the-lonelybarricade - using an old spellbook from a novelty shop, Feyre acid

entally brings her sex doll to life (👻👻👻 - laughs in scared and horny)

Bite Me, Prick by @elentiyawhitethorn - modern vampire au with Feysand, where her blood is not only tasty but an aphrodisiac (👻 - sexy, laid back vampire just wants a little nibble? Go ahead, sir)

Violent Delights by @the-lonelybarricade - There were three rules that must be followed in the home of Viscount Rhysand. One: All staff were forbidden from looking at his lordship directly. Two: All windows were to stay nailed shut, and all drapes pulled over them lest any light creep through the boards. And the third and strangest rule of the castle: All female staff were forbidden from leaving their quarters during their monthly bleed. (👻👻 - he-he's going to put his mouth WHERE!?)

Invisible Thread by @a-courtofdreams - Prythian is transformed into a modern-day city where Feyre is a witch out of touch with her powers and Rhys is a powerful vampire. When Rhys recognizes Feyre as his mate, the timing is not ideal but he has to know her. Feyre is equally drawn to the handsome vampire who makes her feel alive and encourages her to find herself and her magic again. As outside forces threaten to tear them apart, will their fated bond be enough to keep the evil at bay? (👻 - urban fantasy / discovery of witches meets charmed)

The Creature of Nótt by @msfeyredarling - Raven-black locks, golden brown skin and eyes of the deepest blue made up the beautiful man, the most beautiful she had ever seen. Only he wasn’t a man. He was the creature her village was so frightened of. (👻👻👻 - if big, scary monster, why pretty shaped?)

Pretty Little Witch by @abraxos-and-ataraxia - Feyre wants to know what creature her sister is summoning in the basement. Little does she know, the Demon Prince is curious, as well. (👻👻👻👻👻 - if the big mean prince of hell likes to play rough with his toys, I volunteer next)

The Music of the Night by @the-lonelybarricade - It's Feyre's first year as an elligible maiden for the village reaping. In order to escape the chance of being chosen, Feyre rushes into a marriage with Lord Tamlin. She is terrified on her wedding night, but foruntately she is spared from consumating her marriage when she is pulled into a strange, erotic dream with an enchanting creature. (👻👻 - night unfurled its splendor alright)

I'd Rather Be a Real Nightmare by @separatist-apologist - A warning scream in the night sends Feyre running through the forest, straight into the waiting arms of the God Of Nightmares. (👻👻👻👻👻 - throne sex with an extra dash of dark!Rhys)

No Slow Dancing in the Dark by @iambutmortal - Feyre will do anything to get out of the Spring Court, including make a deal with the God of Night. Rhys is willing to do whatever it takes to make her his. (👻👻👻👻 - hi hello is this the Night Court? I'd also like to take that deal please)

Tell Me I'm a Wreck by @separatist-apologist - Feyre Archeron needs to travel the woods between her village and her grandmothers house to find out what happened to her missing eldest sister. Rhysand is waiting between the trees. (👻👻👻👻 - this one had my heart going pitter patter)

Meet Me In the Woods by @labellefleur-sauvage - Returning to the ancient forests surrounding his ancestral home in the Scottish highlands, Rhys quickly discovers how the hunter becomes the hunted when a bloodthirsty Scottish faerie turns her ravenous sights on him. (👻👻👻👻 - even Rhys agress that monster!Feyre just hits different)

High Tide Came And Brought You In by @separatist-apologist -Desperate to escape her impending marriage, Feyre throws herself from a cliffside. Anything is better than what's waiting for her. Even the monster hiding in the waves. (👻👻👻 - Maybe the deep dark ocean isn't so scary afterall?)

Bound For More by starry_soul - Feyre knew the moment she was chosen as that year’s offering that her life was over. What she did not expect was to feel such pleasure before death. (👻👻👻- sign me up for the next vilalge sacrifice please)

To Tango With the Devil by @iambutmortal - For two years, Feyre’s been obsessed with the demon statue in the church. It haunts her dreams, even on the eve of her wedding. To bad the statue’s just as obsessed with her. (👻👻 - peak "that's my wife" at first sight energy)

#there's probably loads more that I've left out here but I'm gonna be honest I started getting fatigued with searching the archive 😅#So if your favorites are missing please shout them out!#also no system or true amount of thought was exacted on the spooky ratings #they're based purely off vibes #please read all warnings before proceeding with any of the recommended fics!#feysand #feysand fic #feysand fanfic #feysand fanfiction #fic recs

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