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thornybubbles · 4 months

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Blood Red String of Fate (Yandere Risotto x Reader)

Scenario: The reader discovers that they are Risotto’s soulmate. Risotto is thrilled. The reader is not.

Warnings: Yandere themes, canon typical violence, kidnapping, attempted self harm, forced relationship, and other “fun” stuff.

You thought that it was just a story; an urban legend spread between lovesick teens and desperate young adults. You never believed for a moment that the whole “red string of fate” thing was true. Soulmates didn’t exist. Relationships didn’t come into being from a whim of chance. You didn’t believe in destiny or naive notions of love at first sight. But all of that changed the day you woke up and found the seemingly endless crimson colored string tied to your pointer finger. It wasn’t endless, of course. You knew that it was attached to the finger of your soulmate (something that you believed to be a fairy tale only a day before). It horrified you, not because you had an aversion to love or the idea of it. It was just that you believed that love should be something that is a mutual choice between two people. It should never be something that was forced onto people by fate. But that wasn’t what had you feeling like your stomach was doing cartwheels. You could actually sense the person on the other end of the string. You could feel their thoughts, emotions, and their very presence as if they were in the room with you. What you felt from them appalled you. You could feel their love for you and it almost had you returning the sentiment, but the warm feeling it gave you was overshadowed by the strong possessiveness that you felt, too. This person, whoever they were, genuinely thought that the string being attached to you meant that they owned you. Not only that, but you could feel an overwhelming blood lust and violence coming from them. Whoever your soulmate was, they were dangerous and the thought of being with them did not appeal to you. As far as you were concerned the two of you were not compatible, soulmate or not. You didn’t give a damn what fate or destiny had to say about it.

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Risotto stared at the red string tied to his finger. He didn’t know how to feel about it at first, but once he sensed you on the other end of the string, it stirred in him an uncontrollable obsession. He never asked to be attached to you, but now that he was, he wanted you. He couldn’t imagine life without you. It wasn’t enough to be bound to you, though. No. He needed you by his side. He had to find a way to bring you to him. It was strange, Risotto never imagined himself to bother with a significant other. He always felt that it would be too dangerous and an inconvenience to him as a member of Passione. Suddenly finding out that he had a soulmate was a bit bizarre. It didn’t matter. Now that he was connected to you, he could feel what kind of person you were. You were everything he needed, everything he desired. He found himself craving you the way a starving man craved food. He truly felt that if he didn’t bring you to him soon, then he would die. He had to have you here. NOW!

“Boss? Whatcha starin’ at your hand for? Didja get hurt?”

The voice pulled him out of his thoughts. He looked up to see Formaggio looking at him with concern.

The others couldn’t see the string. No one knew of the bond that he shared with you. It gave him an odd sense of comfort and made him feel even more connected with you. You were meant for each other. No one else could interfere. No one could break the bond that he had with you. The obsession that he felt for you grew even greater knowing that.

“I’m fine.” Risotto answered his subordinate. He glanced at the string, following it with his eyes as it ran along the ground and out of the room. He could follow it and it would lead him right to you. He could find you easily. He could…

Risotto shot up from his chair and yanked his hand into the air, effectively pulling at the string. He could feel you just then. You were about to do something awful, but he managed to put a stop to it. He glared down at the string as if he was glaring at you. Why would you ever attempt something like that?!

“Boss?” Formaggio asked, giving his Capo a concerned look. “What was that about?”

Risotto didn’t acknowledge him right away. He gave the string another pull. He wasn’t completely sure how the string worked or what he could do with it, but he quickly figured out he could send his very will through it somehow. He did that just then, to stop your foolishness. It was clear that he couldn’t put off meeting you any longer.

“Get in contact with the others. Tell them that I’m going to pay someone a visit.” he said suddenly.

“Huh? What?!” Formaggio cried in confusion.

He watched as Risotto passed him by and left the room. Formaggio clambered up from the sofa and trailed after him.

“Wait a minute!” he called. “You’re leaving now? Who’re you gonna visit? Is this a mission? Ain’tcha gonna tell me anything?”

“This is a personal matter.” Risotto said, his tone implying that Formaggio should stop asking questions. “I won’t be gone long, but I have to leave immediately. Continue with business as normal until I get back.”

“Wait!” Formaggio said, trying once more to reason with his Capo. “Shouldn’t you tell the others this yourself? Why do you have to run off in such a hurry?”

Risotto turned his red gaze on his subordinate.

“I trust you to let them know that I’m gone. Just tell them that I had an emergency that I needed to tend to. I’ll explain when I get back. I have to go now, Formaggio.” he said.

And with that Risotto left the building. Formaggio stood staring at the door wondering what was going through his Capo’s mind. Risotto was a mysterious guy, but he was acting very strangely all of a sudden. He thought about it for a moment longer before throwing his hands up and turning away from the door.

“Eh. Can’t be helped. Orders are orders. Guess I’ll let the others know.”

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You’d tried everything. You tried cutting the string with scissors, a knife, or any other sharp thing you could find. You even tried biting through it. Nothing would cut the string. There was only one alternative that you could think of for ridding yourself of the unwanted bond with your equally unwanted soulmate. If you couldn’t sever the string, then you would simply sever the finger that it was tied to. God, you didn’t want to do it, but what choice did you have?

Every moment you spent bonded to your soulmate, you could feel more and more of what kind of person they were. They were a killer. They’d killed a lot of people and you could tell that they would kill a lot more. It would be just your rotten luck to be stuck with a murderer as a soulmate. You knew that they could sense you and you hated it. You didn’t want a killer knowing as much about you as you did about them. You wanted them gone from your life. So you would disconnect from them. With luck, once the deed was done, they would just think that you died or something and wouldn’t seek you out.

You set some medical supplies to the side, to be ready to deal with your self inflicted injury. The plan was simple enough. You would cut off your finger, ridding yourself of the bond, then you would quickly patch up your injured hand, wrap and place your severed finger in a container full of ice you had set alongside the medical supplies, then call 911 and have them take you to the hospital where you could hopefully have your finger reattached. You had no idea how you would explain what happened to you. If you told them you cut off your finger to disconnect the bond with your soulmate, they’d have you committed. So you would have to think of something more normal to tell them. An accident cutting food maybe?

Hesitantly, you paced your finger on the edge of the kitchen counter. You held the knife in your other hand. Suddenly a thought occurred to you. What if you didn’t cut it off in one chop? What if your strength wasn’t enough to cut through the bone? What if the knife wasn’t sharp enough? What would you do then? You glanced at the knife. It seemed very sharp. Still, it would require some level of strength to cut through the bone. Oh God! What if you had to saw through the bone with another tool? The thought of the prolonged agony made you feel queasy. You could feel the color draining from your face and you swayed on your feet slightly. You shook your head. Determinazione! That’s what you needed now. You had to suck it up and deal with the pain. This was the only way you knew to deal with this.

You raised the knife high over your finger. You took a few deep breaths and mentally hyped yourself to do what needed to be done.

Don’t think about the pain. Don’t think about the blood. Think about being stuck bonded to a murderer. You thought to yourself.

You let out a cry of resolution and raised the knife even higher.

Suddenly there was a powerful yank on the string that pulled your hand away just as the knife came down on the counter. The blade sank into the countertop, leaving a notch in the Formica. Yeah, that blow definitely would have cut through the bone. Too bad something stopped you. You grabbed the knife by the handle and tried to pull it from the countertop. You managed to pull it free but the string was tugged again with much more force this time. The action caused you to lose your hold on the knife. It fell into the sink as you were yanked nearly to the ground. You fell to one knee in an attempt to regain your balance. You yanked your arm backwards only to find that it wouldn’t budge. The string was somehow pulled taut and you were practically being dragged across the floor.

“STOP PULLING ON ME, ASSHOLE!!!” you shouted, anger in your voice disguising your terror.

The pulling stopped and the string went slack again. They stopped you! Whoever was on the other end of the string knew that you planned to chop off your own finger to sever the bond with them. They didn’t want you to disconnect from them! Why? Did they really put value in the bond? Didn’t they know that you had no interest in them? Why would they bother? It was madness!

Suddenly you could feel a strange sensation through the string. It was as if your soulmate’s presence felt stronger somehow. You couldn’t understand it, until you realized… they were getting closer to you! They were coming for you! Well you wouldn’t be there when they arrived. You jumped up from the kitchen floor and ran to your room. Quickly, you packed a few clothes and other essentials. You didn’t know where you would go, but you weren’t going to fall into their grasp no matter what!

---

Risotto stared down at the string on his finger as he sat in the back of a cab. He allowed himself a small, bitter smile. You were a fool. Did you really think that you could escape him? Apparently so, because he could sense you moving away from him. It was frustrating, but it didn’t matter. He would find a way to get to you before you got too far away. The problem was that you could sense how far away he was from you at all times. Did you really mean to stay on the run from him for as long as he tried to pursue you? What if there was a way that he could hide himself from you? An idea came to him. He asked the cab driver to drop him off at the next block. The driver did as told and drove away. Risotto looked around. He was standing outside of a vacant lot. It seemed that this was an abandoned part of the city. Good. He could experiment here with no one around to intrude. It was a long shot, but if he used Metallica’s ability to camouflage himself, he might be able to disguise his presence at his end of the string. Risotto activated his Stand’s secondary ability and waited. He could feel you on your end of the string. You stopped pulling away from him. He began to follow the string, half expecting you to start pulling away from him again. You never did. You were staying put. He followed the string until he was in a better part of town. Still, you didn’t move. It worked! As long as he stayed invisible, you couldn’t sense him! You were as good as his!

----

You had just driven into an unfamiliar part of town when you felt the presence at the other end of the string disappear. What happened? Did they die? Did they disconnect the bond? No, you could still see the string wrapped around your finger. Maybe they just stopped following you? You sighed. Thank the Lord. In the distance you spotted a sign for a hotel. You would stay there for the night and think about what you were going to do in the morning. You pulled into the hotel and walked into the office, dragging your bag along with you. You got yourself a room and collapsed on the bed there. You’d been running from your soul mate for days now. Why did they just stop following you? Did they give up? Did they realize that you weren’t interested in them? What was their game? You had only planned to stay at the hotel for the night, but decided to stay there until you felt that it was safe enough to return home. That was only if your soulmate didn’t decide to start following you again.

That night, you dreamed of a man in a strange black costume resembling that of a jester, with white hair and red eyes with black scleras. You seemed to know each other, but you couldn’t remember from where. You were afraid of him, but you weren’t sure why.

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Risotto strolled into the parking lot of the hotel you were staying in. He was overwhelmed with joy at having tracked you down, but he would have to be careful from here on out. If you got so much as an inkling that he was nearby, you would start running again. He couldn’t allow that. Not when he was so close. He’d been walking for ages, sleeping in hotel rooms that he broke into and stealing food. If anyone got too nosey about his invisible activities, they met a swift and horrible end. He was exhausted having to travel on foot (an invisible man couldn’t flag down a taxi after all), but it was all worth it now that he finally tracked you down.

He followed the string until it led under the door of a certain room. Your room. He grinned at the feeling of your presence on the other side of the door. You were sleeping, so he would have to be quiet. Using Metallica’s magnetism, Risotto unscrewed the screws around the doorknob to your room. He was thankful that the hotel was an older one that hadn’t yet converted to the use of keycards. The door knobs popped out of their sockets and clattered to the ground. Risotto froze, afraid the sound would wake you. He was relieved that he could still feel that you were asleep. Carefully, he opened the door and let himself in.

He spied your sleeping form on the bed. He smiled fondly at you before coming out of his camouflaged state. There was no point in hiding from you anymore. Abruptly, you sat up in bed, gasping and sobbing.

----

What a horrible dream. You’ve been having nightmares about the strange man with the scary eyes ever since you started staying at the hotel. The dream was always the same, the man would corner you somewhere, tell you that you knew each other, then try to drag you off somewhere you didn’t want to go. If you weren’t sure before, you were certain now, that man in your dreams was your soulmate. He had the same aura you felt at the other end of the string. The same aura of blood and death that you felt so strongly that it caused you to wake up in a panic… The same aura that you could still feel as if it were in the room with you at that very moment.

You turned to face that overwhelming presence you could sense nearby and your blood ran cold.

“You!” you gasped. “It’s you!”

The man took a step towards you, smiling sweetly. You cringed away from him, pulling the bed covers up as if they could shield you from him.

“How did you find me without me sensing you?” you demanded.

“Not important,” he said in a deep voice that would have had your heart fluttering in any other situation. “What matters now is that we are finally together, as fate intended.”

“To hell with fate and to hell with you! I want nothing to do with you! Now get out of my room before I call the police!”

The man laughed at your poor attempt at bravado.

“You can fight it all you want, but you and I will be together no matter what.”

You jumped up from the bed and made an attempt to run out the door, but he stepped into your path and you ended up in his crushing embrace.

“Let go of m-- mph!” your demands were silenced by one of his massive palms covering your mouth.

You struggled in his hold but he was far stronger than you. You could barely move in his grip. Something sharp pierced your neck and you screamed into his hand. You struggled a moment more before dizziness overwhelmed you. Your limbs felt heavy and it became impossible to move them. Your vision grew blurry and you felt yourself going limp in his arms. Just before you passed out you heard him say,

“You tried to hurt yourself all because you didn’t want to be bonded to me. I couldn’t allow that. I know that you don’t want me as your soulmate, but I know that you can learn to love me. I’ll take you somewhere where I can keep an eye on you and make sure that you never try to hurt yourself, or sever our bond again. Whether you want it or not, you and I were meant to be. You should know by now that you can’t fight fate.”

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inkpot909 · 7 months

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First Love Headcanons: Pannacotta Fugo x Reader

↳ Gender neutral reader.

A/n: This was so much fun to write! Fugo is such an interesting character to write for that I couldn’t help but fuss over this one for a good while. I hope y’all enjoy it as well. <3

Warning(s): None.

It started out innocently enough, as Fugo is not the type to fall in love overnight.

Curiosity itself is a perfectly normal reaction to have regarding a new member of Bucciarati’s team. Fugo is no exception to this, as he no doubt harbored questions about you when you initially joined.

That said, his approach is different compared to the others on the team. If you join after Mista, Narancia, and Abbacchio, they do just fine on their own intimating you at the very start.

Past the initial meeting, where some lighthearted hazing is likely to occur from everyone, Fugo sees no reason to contribute to any form of poking and prodding outside of missions. You already have to get used to so many strong personalities at once, after all.

He’s been with Bucciarati since the formation of his team, so he’s quite accustomed to getting used to someone new being around. Hell, if he wasn’t so closed off, he would’ve thought to feel bad for you.

Due to the walls he’s long put up, he prefers to remain observant from afar for a good while. Regardless of when you enter the picture, he’s going to keep his distance.

He’s not as good at reading people as someone like Giorno, but he trusts what he can decipher.

This will likely result in Fugo making some assumptions about you prior to the two of you finding equal footing. Whether or not his judgements turn out correct is unknown to you, as he doesn’t care share them with you to begin with.

This does lead to some aspects of your personality to be surprising to him. Nothing bad, just little details about you that he wasn’t expecting.

Your hobbies may be what’s shocking, or perhaps the type of media you prefer to consume. Little aspects of life and personality that unfold because of how much time the team spends together. The discovery of such things is what likely makes him feel more inclined to get to know you better.

Little by little, Fugo will eventually start including you in conversations and vise versa. Especially when Narancia and Mista are involved, he begins to turn to you it in an attempt to keep himself sane:

Mista and Narancia’s relentless chatter is still intimating.

How can you even approach a guy like Mista? He’s more than proven himself to be the type that says anything and everything that pops into his brain. Although he is certainly the relaxed type, his words can be quite vicious if he’s in the mood to tease and you just so happen to be in his line of sight. Sit him next to a full-time enabler like Narancia, and the two can go off on pretty much any topic imaginable.

Their conversations at the dinner table are wild, spontaneous, and still- even after more than a month of knowing them -manage to catch you off guard. Sometimes it’s thought-provoking and other times… not so much.

Which leads to their current conversation, one you sincerely wish wouldn’t take place while you’re trying to eat.

“I’m just saying-“ Mista argues, waving his fork in the air, “If it promotes a soothing and relaxing environment within the human body, I don’t see why it’s so unbelievable that it could also theoretically resonate with your bowels as well.”

“Yeah, maybe-“ Narancia rolls his eyes, “But that doesn’t mean it’s gonna make you crap your freaking pants! That’s ridiculous.”

“It’s not ridiculous; it’s psychology.” Mista retorts, raising a brow. His smug expression does nothing to convince you, or a bewildered Fugo sitting next to you, his knowledge on the subject. But it is enough to grind Narancia’s gears, which ultimately, is probably the key to his actual intent.

Still… you think, staring at your food with a pinched nose. It’s the brown noise. They’re actually trying to prove or disprove the psychological effects of the brown noise. Why on earth… no, how on earth can either of them discuss such a thing with a straight face?

“What kind of messed up psychoglogy-“

“Psychology,” Fugo cuts in with a sigh.

“-Yeah, whatever,” Narancia dismisses with a wave of his hand, “What kind of messed up psycho-logically are you reading up on?”

Grunting in frustration, Fugo drops his forehead onto the table with an exaggerated thud. Mista and Narancia continue to argue amongst the two of them, but you instead direct your attention to the grumbling blonde.

“Umm… Fugo?” you ask, hesitant to even address him.

He raises his head from the table, looking at you with desperation in his dark violet eyes. “Please don’t tell me you think this is worth discussing.”

You raise both your hands in the air. “Are you kidding? I just wanted to eat, but apparently that’s unheard of here.”

Sighing once more, he runs his hand through his hair. His hand stops at his neck and rubs the back of it. “Trust me, I don’t get them either,” he shakes his head, hand finally returning to his lap, “I’m glad you don’t encourage this nonsense, though.”

You let out a chuckle, a little surprised. Sure, you’ve spoken with Fugo before, but hardly ever this casually. The notion brings a tiny smile to your face. “I can’t believe you’d ever think I would,” you reply lightheartedly.

“Well, hanging around these two must be making me lose critical thinking skills… my apologies,” he replies. Despite his words, a smile crawls it’s way onto his face too.

Casual conversations held between the two of you opens the door to the beginning of a genuine friendship.

Unlike Abbacchio, Fugo knows better than to be contrarian to everything you say and do just because you’re new. Considering his intellect, he has always done his best to be objective. And there eventually comes a point where, upon reflection, he figures that you’re alright.

By then, off missions, he started asking you- quite bluntly -questions about yourself.

Although forward, he won’t overwhelm you all at once. From time to time, you might catch him staring at you thoughtfully out the corner of your eye (Do not bring this up to him; he will deny it to his grave). A round of questions often followed his stares.

And it’s when he feels he really knows you on a personal level that he’s able to truly relax around you.

He started greeting you with the same kindness and courtesy he offers the others. He gave you encouragement throughout both your private and work life… a lot of it. Turning to you during conversations comes to be as natural as it is for anyone else on the team.

Fugo’s caring side may be blocked off behind walls he keeps up for the sake of self preservation and the result of an unhappy childhood, but once you’re allowed to peek beyond them, his sweetness really knows no limit.

And it’s through his behavior that developing feelings start to shine through.

Fugo’s not going to at all realize his feelings toward you until the truth is smacking him across the face. But his actions show a certain kind of fondness before he himself recognizes anything.

His expressed love languages are most commonly words of affirmation and acts of service. This is very much so the case in the early stages of him developing feelings.

The words of affirmation were never explicitly affectionate, but always careful and supportive.

Fugo beats himself up over his temper often, so when he can think straight, he’s using his mind to its full extent. In other words, because he’s easily blinded by rage, he chooses his words very carefully whenever he can.

So after a particularly rough mission, he may get upset at one point or another. During the quiet moments after the fact, when adrenaline isn’t flowing any longer, he always gives credit where credit is due. He’ll gently comment on your work throughout the job, expressing he thought you did good with examples to boot.

Or it can be something as simple as offering you a job well done after making yourself a dinner.

From always holding his tongue unless he disagreed with your actions or input, to showering you with praise constantly. It comes to him so naturally he doesn’t even think twice.

And soon, even others in the group start to take notice:

“I don’t wanna do this right now… Fugo’s not even here yet, can’t I just wait?” Narancia whines.

His head is resting on top of an open notebook, his right cheek squished against crumpled paper. Pencil lead is smushed on his cheek, but pointing out he’s likely ruining his work would be a waste of time.

Resting your elbows on the table, you give Narancia a playful smile. “He’s supposed to get here with Abbacchio in thirty minutes. You know you should’ve gotten more done by now…”

Narancia let out an obnoxious groan, rolling his head onto his opposite cheek so he no longer has to look you in the eye.

“Narancia…” you sigh, smile falling. “I’m sorry if it seems harsh, but Fugo asked me to make sure you practiced on his recent lesson. He and Abbacchio are out doing the heavy lifting for the team right now, so it’s the least I can do.”

Narancia replies, but mutters it out so quietly you don’t pick up on his words.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” he says at a volume you can hear, half bitter and half teasing.

“Narancia-“

“I said,” he lifts his head from the table, “You think like that ‘cause he’s always so nice to you.”

“What?” you blurt, heart skipping a beat.

“He compliments you all the time,” he chuckles. The smugness in his tone only grows, and as he continues, heat rushes to your cheeks. “‘Oh, Y/n, you did such a good job today, Y/n.’ And, ‘Oh, Y/n, you’re so very smart why don’t you help out Narancia?’ And who could forget, ‘Oh, Y/n, you look very beautiful today. Why don’t you kiss me on my big fat mouth?’”

“H-He doesn’t say that!” you exclaim, absentmindedly pulling at your fingertips underneath the safety of the tablecloth.

“You gotta know what I mean, though!” he insists. Pausing in order to read your expression, another laugh escapes him. “What? You haven’t noticed?”

“Umm, well.” Your lips pucker out, unsure if you should feel intrigued or embarrassed. After a short pause, you continue, “Fugo compliments everyone; including you… you know? He believes you can do this. He wouldn’t put care into teaching you if he didn’t. And I’ve seen what you’ve accomplished myself too. I certainly know you can get this.”

“You’re changing the subject,” he points out.

“And that not what you’re trying to do?” you ask, gesturing towards his notebook.

Narancia blinks dumbly, bewildered by your response. For a moment, you become pleased with yourself. Seemingly, you’d backed him into a corner and couldn’t help but be a little proud of yourself for it.

“You really don’t know…” he utters, eyes suddenly brightening.

Wait, what? you think, confidence quickly dwindling.

A fit of laughter erupts from him, kicking his feet in the limited space underneath the table. The movement halts your hands. His chair creaks and squeaks in distress, quickly quieting down when he once again slams both feet back on the floor.

He eagerly hunches over his notebook, eyes wide. Snatching up his pencil, he finally begins scribbling on the paper once more.

You’re left staring at him in awe. “What…? So now… you’re good then? You’re just… you’re just going to continue your work?”

Narancia lets out another laugh. “Ha! Well, the sooner I finish, the sooner I can tell Mista about this. I can’t believe you’re so clueless!”

Narancia is calling you clueless… yikes.

The confusion you may have felt that afternoon is nothing compared to Fugo’s reeling mind when the others started pointing things out and teasing him over his supposed affection.

Fugo doesn’t remember when it started, but they didn’t wait long after noticing his feelings to begin teasing him over them.

He would cross his arms, turning away with an annoyed expression while a pool of denials flood from his mouth. With a reaction like that, Narancia and Mista especially enjoyed pushing his buttons on the subject.

Abbacchio would partake in teasing as well in his own little way. Namely, he began making straight-faced comments and turning smug the moment Fugo’s voice raises. Bucciarati mostly keeps quiet on the matter, but no one could miss the fond grin he wears when the others get on his case.

Once, Giorno called you Fugo’s boyfriend/girlfriend. A bashed remote and a broken plate later, Fugo is shocked to learn Giorno wasn’t picking on him and genuinely thought the two of you were together.

The guy must be either super egotistical or is just not at all used to being wrong about this kind of thing, Fugo distinctly thought.

But of course he’s wrong about this! Everyone’s comments made no sense to him at all! There’s no way he felt that much towards you. That kind of thing… is not for him. He may take note when someone’s attractive, but he’s never really thought too seriously about romantic relationships. Just because you’re attractive, doesn’t mean-

Nope… nope, nope, nope, nope. He’s not touching that one with a ten foot pole. No way.

But by the next time he’s helping you with dishes the concept pops into his brain. When he’s dotting on you after a mission it’s plaguing his mind. And he can’t help but notice how meticulous he is when retrieving your additions to the group’s grocery list.

Shit.

Fugo doesn’t know what to think. He really… does go out of his way for you at times. Well, okay, all the time. Looking back, he finds some of his actions to be a little embarrassing. And the more the notion is stuck in his brain, the more he starts understanding that he really does care about you more than just as a friend.

Which is a whole other problem. Fugo’s going to get completely stuck in his own head.

This is the very first time he’s felt this way about someone, and he’s a mess over his lack of knowledge on the subject.

Because what the hell is he supposed to do? Tell you…? Don’t be ridiculous. That notion is met with a mocking tone, as if the mere idea of doing so is itself far too absurd.

But still… there’s this overwhelming urge telling him he has to do something. According to the others he’s already doing something, apparently. But you’re not saying anything about it. Wouldn’t you say something about it if you noticed? What if you never notice on your own? You won’t know unless he makes some sort of move…. but surely that would cause the sky to fall and mark the beginning of end times.

It’s a real echo chamber of insecurity in his head.

Yet… he feels a weird compulsion to be closer to you despite himself. He gets a weirdly beautiful feeling when he’s around you and it flutters his heart so much he doesn’t want to just let it go. It’s brand new to him, and as much as he stresses, he holds onto his affection tight.

Even though it’s more annoying than not, the others are consistent enough with their jabs that it gives Fugo hope that just maybe…

One of the only times Bucciarati explicitly commented on it himself, he mentioned that he believes Fugo’s frustration with his feelings will eventually pass.

The tone he carried indicated that he must know something that Fugo doesn’t, which only made his mind run wild further. Because if you’re going to tell anyone on the team about your feelings, it would probably be him.

Regardless of how much Fugo begs, Bucciarati doesn’t confirm nor deny that hunch. He’s rather adamant that Fugo should just “Ask Y/n and find out on your own.”

And after months of pushing, the others begin echoing that sentiment.

The likelihood of him making the first move is still slim, he figures, but he does hold onto hope that he’ll get a chance one day. Daydreams and “what if” scenarios are a common occurrence for him.

He procrastinates waits for the perfect opportunity, but it never seems to come. Mista mocks him for it, laughing that “There’s no such thing as a perfect opportunity.” Fugo only grows more defensive in response.

I’m already so nervous about expressing myself to Y/n, Fugo fusses, I don’t know what I’d do if I mess this up. If I can’t sweep them off their feet, how can I even-

“Pannacotta?” you ask, pulling him away from his thoughts.

He blinks a couple of times, focusing his attention back on you.

When Giorno is absent, Fugo’s the best source of first aid on the team. All you had to do was walk up to him, apologetic and sheepish. Without a word, he eagerly jumped at the opportunity to help patch you up after a particularly rough mission. It’s the closest he ever physically gets to you.

He calmly led you into a bathroom, gesturing for you to sit atop the sink. His fingers were light and gentle as he worked with what he has on hand. You gave him reassurance that Giorno will likely return soon, so he has no need to stress.

A smile played on his lips, thankful that you know him well enough to guess his own worry.

But slowing movements and focused eyes told you his mind began wandering elsewhere. The cutely taken aback expression on his face after you spoke up is also more than enough evidence to confirm your suspicion.

“You with me?” you ask, playfully trying to get him to respond.

You’re not used to him being this quiet after you’ve gotten hurt. He either talks you through the pain or feels the need to give a lecture. Even when Giorno’s healing you, he’s right by your side whenever he can. Just the thought of his usual behavior can bring warmth to your heart.

“My apologies, you’re just distracting,” he says, hands immediately snapping from your person. Oh god, oh god, it’s not like him to speak without thinking. He stutters trying to cover up his words and only digs a bigger hole for himself in the process. “I-I mean you’re distracted- I’m distracted.”

You laugh, but it dies out fast as you clutch your side at the sting of pain rippling though your body. Fugo’s hands instinctively fly to your side as well, his fingertips brushing up against your own.

Slowly, he lifts his head only to meet your gaze closer to him than it was mere moments ago. You seem just as surprised as he is, and there’s a brief pause while both of you wait for the other to pull away.

Neither of you do.

He’s so close he can feel your breath fanning his face. Normally his face would burn red and he’d retreat to his bedroom as soon as he could, where he’d proceed to reply the moment in his head for the rest of the night. But your eyes… your breathtaking gaze is locked on his own so intently he can’t bring himself to pull away.

And they give him courage he never knew he has.

With a nervous gulp, he leans forward and plants a single kiss to your lips. His own lips are unimaginably soft and hesitant, yet linger against your own longingly. Even when he pulls away far too soon, his nose nuzzles against yours as he plays with the idea of brushing his lips against yours again.

Just to have felt you… to have the briefest taste of what it’s like being closer to you than anyone else he’s ever known before…

“I-“ he pulls himself away, joy dissolving into self-consciousness. You open your mouth to speak, but in his haste, he cuts you off by accident, “I’m sorry… I-I shouldn’t have done that.”

“You… didn’t want to?”

Your reply is spoken in a whisper, voice so faint not even someone standing in the doorway could pick up on it. Fugo’s heart thuds against his ribcage at the crestfallen look on your face. Are you… really disappointed? He’s understanding this correctly… right?

There’s no time to think, and once again he lets his mouth move faster than his mind. “Well, I… you deserve better, you know?” he reasons, “I should’ve explained myself first and then asked… not just go for it… you know. This- I-… I’m not doing this right, aren’t I?”

You adjust yourself on the sink top, glancing away from him for only a second. “If you were to have explained yourself… what would you have said?” you gently plead.

“I-…” he shakes his head.

“Please, Pannacotta, I want to know…”

“I-…” he starts again, taking in a deep breath, “I think I would’ve said… that I think you’re very remarkable. That I’ve never met someone like you before… someone who makes me feel this way… someone who makes me-… umm…”

A hopeful smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you finish for him, “Makes you… want to kiss me?”

He nods, clearing his throat for a couple moments too long. “Not just that, though… you know? It makes me want to take care of you and look after you if I may. I-I-“ he hesitates, “I’m sorry… I’ve thought about this for so long. What I’d say to you if… if I got the impression that you wanted to hear it.”

“I do want to hear it,” you tell him, still grinning from ear to ear, “Pannacotta… I’ve been wanting to say something too for a while now. But you’ve taken the words right out of my mouth.”

He would think he’s dreaming if it weren’t for your hand reaching out and holding his with a gentle squeeze.

“I like you a lot…” you softly confess, “And I need you to know that. It’s always really cute to see you so shy… but for a moment I got to see you push yourself a little. And I think that was beautiful.”

His head falls, staring down at your interlocked hands. Your words stir something within him, taking a tiny step forward in trying to grasp that burst of confidence he felt when he kissed you. “You’re beautiful…” he mumbles, squeezing your hand.

Just a quick glance your way, a brief view of the bright smile on your face, is the best reassurance he could’ve hoped for. He took the plunge, and not only is chaos not ascending to the world’s surface, but his eyes finally open to the affection you feel for him in return.

He ultimately had a love-hate relationship with the way he feels about you before anything concrete happened between the two of you, but that didn’t stop him for falling for you more and more.

And with hindsight, he’s a little timid over not having told you how he feels sooner. But it doesn’t consume him as it may once have before.

With you now at his side, you his and him yours, his heart can only flutter with joy at the prospect of finding his first love.

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dark-side-of-passion · 8 months

Text

HOW WOULD LA SQUADRA REACT IF THEY SEE READER WEARING A BUNNY SUIT? (+18)

A/N: I wanted to draw the whole la squadra but I have no time and I don't want this post in 2918 hsjs.

Part 1 (Ghiaccio/Formaggio)

Part 2(Coming soon).

Read from right to left.

Warning: suggestive

Formaggio:

Ghiaccio:

#my art #la squadra x y/n #la squadra x reader #minors do not interact #la squadra #vento aureo x reader #x reader #jojo #jjba #jojo x reader #vento aureo #golden wind #ghiaccio #formaggio #formaggio jojo #self insert art #self insert

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etherealzx · 1 year

Note

I saw someone request Abbacchio acting like a father figure to a gn! Reader who's a new member of the bucci gang. And I've been craving for content like that ever since.

Thank you~

omg omg omg this is adorable

Abbacchio Being Like a Father Figure to gn!New Gang Member

Abbacchio would be wary of you at first, much like he was with Giorno. The mafia world is a cruel one, and you can never be too careful. He knows this from experience.

Once he had gotten used to you being around and knew you were trustworthy, he (very) slowly started to be a little less cold towards you.

He started asking specifically to be sent on missions with you, tagging along as “extra protection”.

When all of the other members were teasing you for being the newbie, he found himself getting a little too defensive over you. Like, to the point where even Bruno told him to chill tf out.

If you ever found yourself in a bad position while on a mission, he was there to help you in a millisecond.

He would almost kind of scold you, saying things like “You really gotta be more careful, kid. I’m not always gonna be there to save you.”

It’s his weird way of trying to motivate you

He would use Moody Blues to play your fights over again, pointing out where you could improve or how to use your stand in a more efficient way

Almost kind of coaching you

If you did really well on a mission, expect praise

His praises won’t be the most enthusiastic sounding, but believe me when I say they’re the most genuine compliments you will ever receive

Sometimes his praises are just a pat on the back/head and a smile

“Great job out there today” “You seriously kicked ass”

he’s emotionally constipated so that’s his way of telling you that he’s proud of you

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danddymaro · 11 months

Text

Soft Hitmen | Risotto Nero x Reader

A bit of a tender moment.

The reader is effected by a stand that renders her weak.

Word count:

Soft Hitmen

You'd been misinformed, terribly so.

Seldom were the times when you encountered other stand users in your job that weren't colleagues, and in the case where they were your target, you had the intel that warned you.

- But not this time.

It was bad, but not much worse when you considered the fact that you’d screwed up even after your lecture.

It had been the three of you, Prosciutto, Risotto, and you out on the field with your eyes aimed at a certain, little hair-brained politician that had gotten too cocky and too much of a liability.

It would have been just you and Prosciutto, but Risotto was forced to oversee given the sloppy nature of your group’s last few operations.

"And why do you need to babysit us," Prosciutto grunted with a halfhearted glare, insulted by Nero's details of the mission. He'd never needed anyone to watch over him, even as a rookie, and he didn't think you needed anyone either.

"We didn't screw up," he added.

At his side you bit your tongue, feeling the same sourness, but not too bothered by the fact that your leader would join you, even from afar.

Risotto noticed the way your lips pursed, and hearing the blonde-haired male's complaint, his teeth grit hard before he took a step closer to you two, the way he looked down at you icy.

" He's had us on a tight leash for the past year..." he started, and you could only imagine the blood in his veins boiling. " And if that isn't bad enough our last two jobs haven't been our best," he reminds you two, an undeniable fact you wince at, much more when his voice has an even shaper edge than usual.

" If we keep this up, It's only a matter of time before he defiantly gets rid of us," he said lowly.

"- And What the hell does he expect, huh?" Prosciutto suddenly says, thoroughly peeved.

"Our cut of the pay is shit compared to everyone else..." He reminds Risotto. " for everything we do..." he added with deep huffs because it was true. You did the dirty work, and you hardly ever got anything back other than a stack of cash that was measily compared to the other guys.

-Not even a thank you was given.

And if that wasn't bad enough there were periods where you weren't needed at all.

"...Besides... we got it done," you pipe up in regard to the sloppy operations, but barely.

You didn't like arguing too much with your leader.

You knew it wasn't his fault, but every now and then you couldn't help voicing your own annoyances.

Risotto suddenly placed a hand on one of your shoulders, the strong grip surprising you enough to make you look up at the man that had his other hand on Proscuitto's opposite shoulder.

"We'll get our moment," he said simply, which meant so many things, but you could only think of one that would solve your every issue.

'One day...we'll kill him...and we'll take what we deserve,'

You hardly spoke of it, too shaken by what would occur if the Boss caught any wind of treason, but you had all silently agreed that it was the only way to breathe free.

-Especially after what he’d done to Sorbet and Gelato.

The gruesome memory still gave you cold shivers.

"But for now...we do our jobs, without failure. Without so much as a hitch," Risotto reminded you.

You were there because you had talents.

Because any fool could kill, but it took a special bunch to do so efficiently, without so much as a change in air that would hint at it being foul play.

You gave Risotto a fierce nod, and slowly, Prosciutto followed too, though with a little curl to his upper lip that displayed existing annoyance.

"Fuck..." you could barely speak, seized by terrible shivers that left you weakened and to your knees.

Proscuitto took hold of you, cradling you close, saving you from impact, and he watched over his shoulder as he saw your target leave with two of his bodyguards, one of which had rendered you to the state you were now.

The nearly vacant street let him catch a clear view, and he contemplated just letting you fall so he could take care of the job before risotto appeared beside you two, agitation evident in his face that you could barely witness through your impairing sight.

"It's a stand user...maybe two..." Proscuitto stated, having a suspicion the second guy was also one.

You then pushed him away, standing on unsteady footing as you glared in that direction too.

"We have to..." you said while taking a step in the direction before you fell to a knee, and as Proscuitto moved to you again, you, used your arm to ward him off, something he huffed at.

Hesitation was not one of his typical traits, but given that you were a woman, he'd always been just a tad bit gentler with you out of pure instinct, something you noticed.

Granted, eventually down the line he cared about you, but the initial consideration was due to that, and you were thankful for it.

Otherwise, he'd beat you around just as badly as he did Pesci.

Delirium hit you and your surroundings grew darker and murkier, and with a soft exhale, you stood back up on wobbly legs.

Shivering, you hugged yourself, backing up into the outstretched arm of your leader as he wordlessly caught you. Seeing your need to stand on your own, he made sure to grip you hard before his body came closer.

You craned your head back to look at the man but found it dreadful as your head felt too heavy and it hung back.

"Go..." Risotto told Prosciutto, trusting that now that he was aware of the retaliations, he'd finish the job himself.

The ashy-haired man doubted your assignment could go any further south, and he trusted Prosciutto to take care of it.

At that moment you hated yourself, much more with how feeble you felt.

"Please..." you start, and you find it in you to somehow move your body to face him, your hands daringly reaching out to take hold of his shirt, holding on with the last bit of strength that you could gather.

"- stay with me, " you tell him, breathing hard, batting your eyes at him pathetically. You practically have tears in them, and as he looks down, his own eyes slightly widen at the words.

You don't know why you say that, why the words just drip out of your drying mouth, but they do.

And perhaps it's because that's why you had wanted to tell him so many times before.

Like, that one time he'd lead you home after you'd all decided to have a few drinks at some crappy bar.

"I should have..." you incoherently think out loud, having thought of the moment so much, wishing you would have had the guts to invite him in to stay the night.

Meanwhile, Risotto could feel his heart race, thudding strongly in his chest.

He would have to pick each of your little fingers off of his top to go free, and the idea was unbearable.

And how could he?

the word of denial he wanted to strongly let loose was locked in his chest, unable to escape as he looked at you, finding your weakened state somehow enticing.

He had hardly ever seen you so desperate, and much more with that need directed at him.

You needed him ; an idea he'd never considered.

"Risotto..." The way you said his name had him feeling strange, and he felt his own desperation too, one that had him driven to cocoon you safely within his arms.

"Are you mad at me...?" you could hardly say it without a few tears welling in your eyes.

Disappointing him always felt like a punch in the gut...it was nearly unbearable.

Without a word he picked you up, easily doing so with his strong build, the question going unanswered as he moved in silence.

He headed towards the black-tinted car you'd arrived in, easing you down with a gaze that would have left you weak had you caught sight of it.

Warmth graced the scarlet orbs even as he shook his head in disapproval, leaving you resting on the back seat.

"Idiot..." he muttered.

- He should be.

"I am..." he added lowly as he leaned back on his seat, staring up at the car's roof in frustration.

Since when did hitmen become so soft, they stupidly stood as shields for other members, rendering themselves useless?

As he sat there in wait, he expected that when Prosciutto came back, he thanked you with something other than a half-assed mutter.

He watched you through the mirror, his gaze softening as he continued to watch your face form subtle expressions in your sleep, most of witch were short grimaces.

"Idiot..." he said again, his eyes closing while he waited, occasionally checking on you.

#risotto x reader #risotto nero x reader #risotto nero x reader insert #risotto nero x you #risotto nero x y/n #Risotto Nero #risotto x reader insert #JJBA fanfiction #jjba fanfic #JJBA Vento Aureo #JoJo's Bizarre Adventure Vento Aureo #vento aureo x reader #la squadra #la squadra fanfic #la squadra x reader #golden wind jjba #JoJo's Bizarre Adventure Golden Wind

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leonwrites4u · 2 years

Note

Hello please can I request headcanons of the buccigang crushing on someone who loves to be affectionate but always shy when initiating it :)

YESSSSSS GUCCI GANG<3333333

Let's goooo

!! G/n reader !!

Buccigang with a s/o that likes affection but Is shy when showing it

Bruno

Okay

This is Bruno were talking about

You won't need to initiate anything, he'll always know when and what you need

He loves your expressions when you attempt to initiate a kiss

It's simply adorable

He'll have his sweet little smile

Bruno will adore your shy nature

If him showing you a bit too much affection makes you wayyy too flustered

He'll subtly wrap an arm around you or simply hold your hand

Abbachio

Abbachio isn't the best with public displays of affection

It's not his love language

So he understands if you have some trouble

He won't rush you to immediately shower him in love

(Even though he deserves to be<3)

Instead, he'll do small stuff like hold your hand

He'll show his affection by styling your hair or giving you kisses on the cheek if he feels like it

He finds the flustered face you make funny

Not that he wants to laugh at you

He finds your facial expressions amusing

Fugo

He's not so good with affection in general

He doesn't like having people touch him

It's nothing personal, just something that has to do with his childhood

So he's in no rush to get you to show your affection

Instead, you two do this thing where instead of holding each other's hand, your pinkies kinda intertwine

It's slow and steady, perfect for you two

Though, when you do show him affection

He'll stare at you with flushed cheeks before thanking you

While your, face is equally flushed

Giorno

It makes him smile

Seeing you all flustered because youre trying to show how much you love him makes him so happy

He'll give you a few kisses to thank you for it

Giorno will also enjoy having you hug his arm as you two walk

Or maybe just him enjoying to squish your cheeks

Maybe whole squishing your cheeks he'll kiss you

He'll chuckle when you get all flustered

Reassuring you

He's most likely to initiate the affection mostly cause of your shy nature

Mista

Oh my gosh

Fanboying

AAAAAA HE THINKS YOUR ADORABLE

Mista is constantly asking for affection to see your flustered little face

He knows you're shy when initiating it so if you don't want to

He gladly will, giving you his hat

Giving you many many kisses

Whispering sweet nothings

He was made for romancing

And if you're uncomfortable with it, he'll stop

After all, mista drinks his respect juice

Narancia

Fucking

Clueless

He doesn't understand why you get so shy

It's just a kiss?

So he has to give you all the kisses

He notices how red you get when you try to hug or kiss him

His sweet energy making it impossible for you to do anything around him

Explain it as much as you want

He won't understand why you're so scared to show someone you love them

He won't pry on the matter and if you're uncomfortable

He'll stop

Trish

She understands

She's kinda awkward or shy with this kind of thing too

Trish will mostly just hold your hand while she looks through magazines

However she'll glance over to see your flustered face before smiling every few minutes

Sometimes she'll shyly initiate hugs if you don't want too

Or if you're too tired to do so

She loves holding your hand up to her cheek as she drifts off to sleep or while she reads magazines

She finds your flustered face adorable

And she wants to kiss it so badly but alas

She's too nervous

Okay okay! It felt so good to write for Jojo once more! Thank you so much for requesting

Also note that my work isn't proof read teehee

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garden-of-violets · 2 years

Note

Please can I request a Bruno x fem!reader fic or hc, I don't mind either 🙏🏿

One about Bruno's love language being touch and he just thinks his s/o is like the cutest person he's ever seen and is just head over heels in love with them?

I adore Bruno Bucciarati. We love him.

Here are some Bruno Bucciarati headcanons for him being completely in love with his s/o and having his primary love language be touch ♡︎

♡︎•♡︎•♡︎•♡︎•♡︎•♡︎•♡︎•♡︎•♡︎•♡︎•♡︎•♡︎•♡︎•♡︎•♡︎

♡︎ Bruno Bucciarati without a doubt was very touchy, especially with you.

♡ Out in public? Hand holding.

♡ Stressed? He’s already pulling you into his arms.

♡ Romantic dinner dates? He’s kissing the back of your hand every chance he gets. Seeing your bashful smile and the way you look at him afterwards is everything to him.

♡ Every chance he gets, he has a hand on you.

♡ A gentle grasp on your hand while walking the streets of Naples on a sunny day, or an arm around your waist while he holds an umbrella overhead during a cold, rainy day.

♡ Sometimes, if he knows it’s going to start raining, maybe, just maybe he might ‘forget’ to have grabbed an umbrella, because hearing your giggles and laughter as you two hide under his jacket and run to hide under something and take cover makes his heart ache with joy. You’re so lovely, he can’t help but do what he can to create moments like these he can share with you.

♡ You’re tired from a mission? He’ll take the time out of his day to spend a few minutes with you, kissing the back of your hand, gently playing with your hair, even doing something as simple as giving you a hug for a few minutes in between his work would be heaven for both him and you.

♡ Sometimes, if he’s sitting at the kitchen table in your shared home doing Passione paperwork, he’ll reach over and hold your hand while you sit beside him and read, or scroll on your phone. Just being able to hold your hand sends him over the moon. Hearing your giggles or the comments you make about whatever it is your reading makes his heart flutter, no matter how busy he is.

♡ When you’re with the others at Libeccio, there is no doubt that he’ll be holding your hand. No matter the amount teasing from Narancia and Mista, he won’t let go.

♡ Gently rubbing circles onto your hand with his thumb is one of his favourite things. It’s so small, yet he adores how much it can fluster you.

♡ While Bruno does adore the simple touches and romantic gestures, he does have other favourite ways of showing his love and adoration for you.

♡ Cuddling with him after a long day is a regular occurrence, one you both look forward to often. In moments like these, his head is buried in the crook of your neck, leaving gentle kisses as he plays with your hair behind your back. Or rather, he likes having you pulled close to him, so he can rest his chin on the top of your head and hold you even closer to him.

♡ You’re baking? Cooking something on the stove? His arms are around your waist, head either resting in the crook of your neck, or he’ll have his chin resting on the top of your head if you’re shorter than him. He’ll gently move your hair from your neck, leaving little kisses here and there.

♡ He does enjoy the lovely silence that comes in moments like these, but he adores the days where you’ll speak to him even more, telling him about your day or the things you read. He’s completely enamoured by you, and hearing your voice during such moments is so romantic to him.

♡ You have him completely wrapped around your finger, (not that there’s a moment where you don’t already have him in such a strong grasp.)

♡ Bruno Bucciarati is head over heels for you. Everything you do, everything you wear, anytime he hears your voice, everything about you makes his heart soar.

♡︎•♡︎•♡︎•♡︎•♡︎•♡︎•♡︎•♡︎•♡︎•♡︎•♡︎•♡︎•♡︎•♡︎•♡︎

601 words ♡︎

#bruno bucciarati #bruno bucciarati x reader #golden wind #vento aureo x reader #bruno x reader #bruno buccellati #bruno buccellati x reader #reader insert #headcanon

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strawmariee · 6 months

Note

Oieee voltei pra fazer meu pedido \o/

Então, eu tinha pensado em um bruno x leitora (romântico, por favor) num AU de fantasia onde o bruno é um sereio (ou tritão, sei lá o masculino de sereia ksjkk)

Eu pensei que ele podia conhecer a leitora quando ela estivesse pescando e acaba pegando ele com a rede mas o solta logo em seguida, o que desperta a curiosidade dele na leitora, já que os humanos tendem a capturar a espécie dele.

Aí talvez ele possa retribuir o favor salvando ela de um naufrágio ou então só trazer presentinhos do mar pra ela mesmo, o que faz eles se aproximarem aos poucos.

Desculpa pelo pedido grande, é que eu tô com essas fantasias na cabeça a bastante tempo e minha capacidade quase inexistente de foco não me deixa concluir essa historinha kjkkk

Novamente, gosto muito das suas fics. Tenha um bom dia/noite ^3^

Oi oi oiii! Eu achei muito fofo o seu pedido, e como eu tinha reassistido o filme da pequena sereia e também Golden Wind já que finalmente chegou na Netflix, e então fiquei bem na vibe para escrever esse request!! Espero que goste e uma boa leitura!🩷

Part of Your World

Bruno Bucciarati x Leitora

O que normalmente as pessoas gostam de fazer em uma bela manhã de um sábado? Bom, existem várias opções como dormir, ver televisão, ficar com a família, ler…

No meu caso, eu gosto de pescar!

Minha casa fica em frente ao mar, que sempre permanece calmo independente de tudo. E é onde eu mais gosto de passar o meu tempo, já que é onde consigo organizar meus próprios pensamentos, sendo minha única companhia o belo som das águas contra o casco do barco e as gaivotas que tentavam roubar as minhas iscas.

E hoje não seria diferente!

A semana foi bastante torturante e cansativa por conta do meu trabalho e da minha faculdade, eu estava completamente estressada e precisava de um tempo sozinha, por isso que seguiria a minha tradição de tentar pescar algo para almoçar mais tarde.

Assim que coloco o meu chapéu, saio da minha casa segurando minha vara de pescar e a minha maleta de pesca onde se encontra meus anzóis reservas e iscas, na qual seriam bastante importantes. Eu inspiro tranquilamente com a familiar brisa levemente salgada enquanto caminho em direção a praia, me deliciando com a sensação da areia macia entre os dedos dos meus pés enquanto caminho na direção do meu barco que está ali, praticamente me atraindo para ele como se eu fosse um pedaço de metal e ele um ímã.

No entanto, fui capaz de perceber um som desconhecido ao longe próximo do cais, e logo fico em alerta. Minha razão diz para eu ignorar o som, mas meu instinto me diz para ir ver o que é. Optei pela segunda opção.

Mas o barulho cada vez mais alto começa a me fazer desconsiderar minha escolha de seguir minha razão, e começo a pensar que podia ser algum golfinho ou algum outro animal preso na costa.

Isso foi o suficiente para alterar minha escolha.

Começo a caminhar até o cais, questionando a mim mesma se estou fazendo o certo, mas resolvo apenas seguir o fluxo até ficar perto daquela estrutura de madeira.

— Olá, tem alguém aí?

Assim que minha voz ecoa, o som de repente cessou e com isso franzi minhas sobrancelhas e me aproximar mais ainda da ponta daquela estrutura, até que eu arregalei os olhos quando me deparei com um ser humano que estava preso em algumas redes,

— Meu Deus, como você conseguiu ficar desse jeito?! — Assim que ele ouve minha voz, sua expressão de repente muda para uma de assustado enquanto eu me aproximo.

— Pare, não se aproxime! — Ele de repente gritou, seu tom de voz mostrava sua desconfiança e aflição com minha presença.

— Calma, eu só quero ajudar. — digo de maneira sincera enquanto desço na água rasa e começo a andar até ele.

— Fique onde está!

E de repente, eu achei que estava vendo coisas ou que eu estivesse sendo influenciada por algum resquício de sono, mas não… Eu realmente vi o que eu vi…

Uma cauda… Uma cauda em forma de rabo de peixe.

Não é possível que eu estivesse de cara com um sereio! Eu sei que o mar é bastante vasto, mas nunca achei que a possibilidade da existência dessas criaturas seria possível!

Não consigo esconder a surpresa e o choque que se revelam em meu rosto, e isso pareceu deixar o homem em choque ao ver que ele revelou sua metade de baixo sem querer.

— Uau… — Essa é a única coisa que consigo dizer, mas logo despertei quando ele começou a se mexer novamente, tentando escapar da rede que parecia cada vez mais presa no corpo dele. — Ei, calma, deixa eu te ajudar!

— Já disse para não se aproximar, humana!

Eu não escuto o que ele fala, e vou me aproximando devagar até que eu pego um pouco da rede e começo a tentar puxar ela, no entanto, eu acabo o machucando um pouco sem querer e isso faz ele grunhir e arranhar o meu braço, me fazendo gritar de dor e soltar a rede.

— Ai!

Ele apenas fica mais nervoso e então eu apenas espero o momento que ele fica cansado e, quando ele chega, eu começo a mais uma vez a tirar a rede com mais cuidado dessa vez, e aproveito para verificar se ele ainda tinha algum outro machucado, entretanto, não encontrei mais nada.

Assim que ele ficou livre daquela rede, ele parecia um pouco mais calmo e não parecia ter a intenção de me atacar.

— Obrigado…

— De nada, não é preciso agradecer! — Eu sorri para ele e vi que ele estava prestes a me dizer mais alguma coisa quando seus olhos foram para a ferida em meu braço, quando…

— BUCCIARATI! Você está bem??

Meus olhos se arregalaram quando, um pouco mais ao longe eu pude ver três cabeças emergindo da água, e pareciam de três criancinhas.

— Fica quieto, Narancia! — A menina dos cabelos rosas diz para o garoto de cabelos negros que havia gritado antes, enquanto a outra criança apenas ficou olhando sem dizer nada.

— OLHA, É UMA HUMANA!! — O garotinho chamado Narancia aponta para mim enquanto exclama de forma aguda e surpresa e eu até me espanto.

— Fica quieto Nara!

As duas crianças gritam e então afundam o pobre garoto na água, e isso me fez ver que eles também eram como o homem que ajudei.

— E-Existem mais?!

Repentinamente eu senti algo áspero bater nas minhas pernas e eu acabei caindo no chão, e quando percebi, o Bucciarati já havia mergulhado e levando aquelas três crianças.

O que diabos acabou de acontecer?!

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Após esse ocorrido, eu enfim pude ir para o meu barco para finalmente poder começar a minha tarefa de ir pescar, mas agora eu estava levemente hesitante. Agora que sei da existência dessas criaturas, nada impede a existência de outros seres mitológicos como um Kraken ou um Leviatã? Eu engoli em seco, mas como eu já estou no meio do mar… É triste, mas é a vida.

Eu então inspirei fundo e então abri minha maleta e coloquei uma isca no anzol antes de lançá-lo para as águas, e então começou a parte onde eu fico esperando…

Esperando…

E esperando…

Eu então fiquei olhando para as nuvens branquinhas no céu, me lembrando grandes algodões doces até que eu me espantei quanto a linha começou a ser puxada e eu me levantei logo no barco, vendo que em menos de 20 segundos um peixe já tinha fisgado minha isca! Eu puxei o peixe com toda a minha força e arregalei os olhos quando vi que era um grande peixe!!

— Meu Deus, muito obrigada a todos os deuses e santos que tiveram piedade de mim hoje! — Eu digo enquanto olho para o céu com um enorme sorriso enquanto puxo aquele enorme atum para dentro do meu barco.

— Que bom que isso agradou você.

Eu dei um gritinho e quase deixo o peixe escapar, e ao olhar para o lado eu vejo aquele mesmo sereio com ambos os braços apoiados próximos da proa do meu barco.

— Oh, o sereio de novo! — digo para mim mesma, todavia, ele pareceu ouvir minha frase já que ele arqueou uma de suas sobrancelhas.

— Tritão*, esse é o nome da minha espécie. — Ele diz e quando viu que eu fiquei levemente envergonhada pelo meu erro, ele deu uma risada.

— Desculpe. — Eu sorri levemente envergonhada, no entanto, o som do atum se debatendo me trouxe de volta para a realidade, e eu logo olhei para o tritão com curiosidade. — Foi você quem o atraiu para a minha isca? — Ele assentiu com a cabeça, e isso me fez inclinar a minha para o lado. — Mas por quê?

— Ora, você me ajudou lá atrás… É o mínimo que posso fazer, não é?

Eu sorri largamente enquanto eu admirava aquela criatura, conseguindo notar alguns detalhes que não pude antes, como suas orelhas parecerem com barbatanas, algumas pequenas escamas brancas peroladas na área de suas bochechas e no dorso de seu nariz, como também nos seus antebraços, mas diferente do seu rosto, ele tinha algumas manchinhas pretas que eram bastante bonitas.

— Será que eu posso perguntar uma coisa? — pergunto enquanto me aproximo cuidadosamente dele, que apesar de estar mais confortável com minha presença, ele ainda parecia vigilante sobre meus movimentos.

— Sim, claro.

— Por acaso… Existem outras criaturas como vocês sereias e tritões? — pergunto enquanto me sento perto dele e o encaro com bastante interesse por seus conhecimentos do mundo das águas.

— Bom…

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

A partir desse dia, eu fui me aproximando muito mais deste tritão, que descobri se chamar Bruno Bucciarati, e que ele era alguém bastante importante no reino dele. Sim, um reino de sereias e tritões! Mas para minha “sorte”, descobri que realmente existam outras criaturas marinhas que são dadas como extintas, como o Megalodon, Livyatan e etc. E só de saber isso me deixou assustada.

— Tá brincando Bruno, é sério?? — Eu quase que grito quando ele me disse aquilo, o que o fez dar uma pequena risada.

— Não estou brincando, mas não se preocupe, esses dois estão bem no fundo do mar, lá na Fossa das Marianas. Vocês humanos ainda não foram para lá, não é?

— Para você ter uma ideia, nós sabemos mais sobre o espaço do que sobre o mar!

— Sobre o espaço?

E assim eram nossas conversas durante esses meses em que ficávamos mais próximos, contando coisas mais gerais sobre nossos mundos. No entanto, hoje tinha sido um pouco diferente.

Assim que deu umas 16 horas, eu saí de casa e corri para a praia com rapidez, um sorriso largo logo apareceu em meus lábios quando vi Bruno em nosso ponto de encontro: Perto daquele mesmo cais que eu o salvei quando nos conhecemos.

— Olá Bruno, você está bem? — questiono enquanto me sento próxima da maré do mar, e ele logo fica ao meu lado com sua mão direita aberta e me mostrando lindas conchas com diversos tons de cores! — Bruno, elas são lindas!

— São para você. — Ele sorriu enquanto pega a minha mão e coloca as conchas, nas quais eu toquei com a ponta do meu dedo e sorri ao olhar para o tritão.

— É muita gentileza, muito obrigada! — Eu guardei as conchinhas em uma pequena pochete que sempre levo comigo e logo sorri para ele. — Não esperava por isso, você sempre consegue me surpreender.

Ele sorriu ladino por um momento, olhando para o sol que estava no horizonte, mas meu olhar continuava nele, o admirando secretamente. Não sei se isso podia ser considerado estranho, mas eu achava ele muito bonito. Não só por sua aparência, apesar da cauda, mas sua personalidade gentil, educada e cavalheira o deixavam mais belo.

A luz do sol refletia em seu corpo, e suas escamas pareciam brilhar como pequenas estrelas. Mas o que vem me chamando a atenção durante os meses é a tatuagem que ele tem em seu peito, parecia ser algo tribal mas não tenho certeza.

— O que acha dela?

— Perdão? — Eu despertei ao ouvir a voz dele e logo me toquei ao que ele está se referindo. — Oh, eu acho incrível sua tatuagem, ela tem algum significado?

— Ele é como uma marca da minha família, então todos que possuem o sangue dos Bucciarati possuem essa marca no peito. — Ele sorriu, parecendo orgulhoso enquanto me conta sobre aquele fato de sua família, e isso acabou me contagiando e me fazendo sorrir também. — Você quer tocá-la?

Sua fala de repente me deixou de olhos esbugalhados e senti minhas bochechas esquentando levemente com sua pergunta. No entanto, minha curiosidade estava maior do que qualquer coisa, e com a permissão dele, isso parecia um sinal para mim.

— Eu adoraria.

Ele então se vira para mim, me dando abertura para eu tocar em sua tatuagem que se mesclava em seu abdômen com o começo de sua cauda que também era simplesmente linda com aquele branco perolado, com bolinhas pretas e com uma linha dourado nas laterais. Eu então coloquei a palma das minhas mãos em sua tatuagem, o calor da minha mão tendo um contraste em sua pele gelada devido ao mar.

Eu consegui ouvir a respiração dele ficando um pouco mais profunda e lenta, e isso começou a me deixar um tanto quanto envergonhada, mas não poderia perder aquela oportunidade única. Usei a ponta do meu indicador para contornar a curva da tatuagem e então olhei para ele para ver sua reação, mas seus olhos azuis pareciam me observar de uma maneira singular.

— Está tudo bem? — pergunto como uma garantia de que isso não o está atormentando.

— Sim, não se preocupe.

Ele diz isso e eu não deixo de notar o seu rosto um pouco mais perto do meu e em como o coração dele parecia acelerado sob a palma da minha mão. Senti algo em minha perna e quando notei, a cauda dele parecia querer se enroscar nela, me fazendo ruborizar com mais força.

— Posso lhe dizer algo, S/n? — Ele diz em um tom de voz baixo enquanto seu olhar permanece nos meus. — Tem algo que não te contei sobre minha espécie.

— E o que seria esse algo?

Minha voz parecia mais baixa, mas por eu estar me sentindo acanhada, e meu próprio coração batendo mais rápido não estava me ajudando a pensar direito enquanto nós estávamos tão perto um do outro.

— Nós tritões… — Ele se aproxima de meu ouvido, sua respiração quente fazendo um suave carinho em minha pele e me dando arrepios na espinha. — Carregamos conosco o costume de presentear aqueles que possuímos um vínculo forte e, assim, desejamos estar juntos até o fim de nossas vidas.

Eu imediatamente sinto um frio na barriga quando nossos olhos se reencontraram, ele tinha um olhar firme e determinado, enquanto eu estava nervosa e surpresa por todas as suas palavras.

Eu imediatamente fiquei um pouco insegura por conta de nossa diferença de espécie, todavia, Bruno não parecia considerar isto.

— Eu… É…

— Você vai ser a minha mãe??! — Subitamente uma voz infantil ecoou no local, e logo vi aquele mesmo garotinho de cabelos negros nadando até a mim.

— Narancia, o que está fazendo aqui? — Bruno logo olhou para o garotinho que ficou entre nós dois, praticamente se deitando em minhas pernas.

— Desculpe Bucciarati, ele não quis me escutar e nem a Trish. — Aquele outro menino que estava com eles, um de cabelos dourados, emergiu das águas com a garotinha de cabelos rosas atrás, parecendo irritada com o Narancia.

— Ah, tudo bem, eu entendo…

— Ei! Você quem vai ser minha mãe?! — Narancia perguntou para mim e parecia animado enquanto toca nas minhas pernas de uma forma curiosa. — Que estranho, você não tem cauda! O que você é??

— Sou uma humana, pequeno Narancia.

— Uau! Que legal! — Ele parecia animado enquanto até mesmo se sentava em meu colo, analisando as minhas coxas, pernas e pés. — Você é estranha, mas gosto de você.

Eu olhei para o garoto com uma leve surpresa e indignação e ouvi uma pequena risada do Bruno e vi as outras duas crianças se aproximando e também me olhando curiosas.

É, acho que eu fui adotada por uma família, uma família de sereios.

The End

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strawberryvanillablast · 2 years

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Inspired by @strawberrysurecake Tsundere Bucci Gang headcanon.

Team Bucci: Me? In love with you? Get real! There is no way that I'd be in love with you!

[Y/N]: *as Team Bucci's Stands are whining for affection from them while hugging or cuddling up to them* *smiles* Okay ♡!

Team Bucci: Σ（○□○）*betrayed by their own stand*

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyō na bōken #jojo kimyou na bouken #jjba pt 5 #jojo pt 5 #vento aureo #golden wind #giorno giovanna #leone abbacchio #bruno bucciarati #pannacotta fugo #narancia ghirga #guido mista #trish una #reader insert #tsundere jojo x reader #jjba x reader

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giogio-gucci-gangstar · 1 year

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Melone came to me in a dream and told me to write him some smut. So here’s the first part of this monstrosity, I’m sorry.

Cyber Sex: Melone x Reader PART ONE

Warnings: stalking, medical kink, porn, very dark humor, reader thinks it would be kind of sexy to be dissected there’s nothing wrong with her she just thinks it would be kinda fun and in no way relates to the author (me) and my mental state (will be explicit in coming chapters)

Summary: when you get bored you like to message men on tinder unhinged things and see how far they’ll go trying to hook up. So far your best was getting a man to say he’d cut off three toes if you bought him six shots, which was kind of pathetic.

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It was one of those night, the really dark long boring ones. Like most of them were… no one told you grad school in another country would be so isolating but fortunately your trusty undergrad boredom solver was able to continent hop with you.

You called it “playing tinder”. You started freshman year of undergrad in the states with the boys who lived above you. You’d take one of the boys phones, swipe right on every girl, and say the most unhinged things you could come up with and see how long it would take for them to unmatch. It was like mad libs but for drunk people who wanted to fuck. A great, morally neutral, pass time.

You scrolled through your matches with a glass of wine. For the man on ice skates who “liked the Beatles” you sent “how many beetles can you fit in your mouth?” To the man with fiery orange hair who had messaged you “shiiiiiit yes pls” you replied “omg amazing I didn’t even have to ask, thank you so much for letting me harvest your organs”. For the special looking man who had multiple ponytails and started with the ever boring “what’s up?” You replied “my little sister just poisoned our whole family, except me and my senile uncle, by dousing the sugar for blackberries in arsenic :,(“. And lastly to the shockingly pretty purple haired man on a motorcycle you messaged, “Wanna role play going through the Egyptian underworld?” That was good enough for now, should reap some interesting conversations in a few minutes if Italian men were as horny as all the American ones.

You put your phone done for a second to pour some more wine. It was fine, you definitely weren’t an old lonely lady using men for entertainment. If anything it was more morally acceptable than going out and fucking them all. Your tension eased as your phone buzzed a few times against the table. The bait had worked for someone.

“Beatles, not beetles. Why would I know how many beetles could fit in my mouth? It would vary wildly depending on species” Clearly not a real Beatles fan. Next.

“Lmao idk I like my body as it is but I like yours more” kind of sad? You just said you wanted his organs and he’s still trying to hit it? Next.

“That sounds terrible” boring, where’s the drama? Why did he not know you just summarized We Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson? Clearly illiterate. Next.

“Anubis, is that you?”

Oh? This one piqued your interest. This was someone you could have some fun with. You swiped back to look at his profile, a guy going by Melone, the pretty purple man on a motorcycle. Looking more closely you saw he also had a sheer eyepatch, which was a fashion choice, and was often depicted working on a computer. He must be in tech or something. Weird for a guy like that to be in Naples though, usually they were all up in Rome. Oh well, who were you to judge your source of entertainment for the night.

Melone: Anubis is that you?

You: okay wow you’re really starting in the middle of things. Before I can measure the weight of your heart against a feather I’m gonna have to remove it. Just protocol.

Melone: Of course of course, but wouldn’t sucking my brain out of my nose with a straw come first? Do you even have enough linen and salt to preserve it properly?

He was brilliant. He could banter AND knew exactly what you were talking about? Perfection. You cozied into the couch and prepared for a long night of texting.

~~~~~~~~~~

Melone was dangled over the kitchen counter messaging you until you fell asleep and stopped responding. He knew you had fallen asleep because in the few hours you had been chatting he had been able to pin point your IP address (and silently judge you for not having a VPN in case someone scarier than him should come along). But now that he wasn’t distracted by all of your cute little texts, the real work could begin.

He started prowling through your social media. So basic he knew, every sorority girl with half a brain could fact check someone on Facebook or Instagram. He just wanted to see your face from different angles, and to confirm that your personality and wit followed from platform to platform. He was very pleased to find that you had several fake instagrams, twitters, and tumblrs. Different names, but same general tone of character, never interacted with each other. A crude but simple system, all it would take for someone to link the two would be some simple tracking, but that was more than a recruiter or school would do so he supposed you were safe.

Your more professional and less used sites showed your undergraduate degree, what you studied, what you were studying, boring things that you’d be asked at any forced mingling scenario. He wanted to know more, he wanted to know what you were posting on tumblr when you first joined in 2011, he wanted to know everything about you, not just the curated photos you wanted people to see.

Next was your search history, just basic things like summaries of the last House of the Dragon episode, best espresso bars near you, etc etc. but then they got a little more interesting, human tongue, lobotomy, live lobotomy, ice pick for sale, is grave robbing legal in Poland, shibari, homemade cyanide, antique Etruscan poison pendants. I’m your defense you had searched these on private mode, but nothing could ever be private between lovers could it? And you certainly were his style of fun.

He saved the Twitter account with no photo, no description, and no followers for last. Something told him it was where you would keep everything you didn’t want even your online personas associated with. He nearly started drooling when he saw the first porn gif. A little basic, just some tits bouncing, but that could be improved. Namely they could be your tits bouncing and his face could be between them, but he enjoyed knowing you were at least a little perverse.

#jjba #golden wind #Melone #Melone x reader #this is essentially self insert #these are all things I’ve sent to men on dating apps #I’m not a horrible person I just think it’s funny #wish I’d met a Melone tbh #jjba melone #melone jojo #jjba part 5 #vento auro #jojo giorno #bruno jojo #la squadra

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thornybubbles · 5 months

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I Never Go Around Mirrors (Yandere Illuso X Reader)

Note: I’ve neglected La Squadra members for far too long and I wanted to fix that. Still, I think this little story is kinda meh. I will try to do something better for Illuso next time.

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This wasn’t the life that you wanted to live. It was never in your plan to live on the run spending your every waking moment glancing over your shoulder and your every night wondering if you should take the risk and go to sleep. You made sure that when you left, you would head out to the country, staying as far away from any place that could possibly have a mirror. You managed to get far enough away that you managed not to panic when you found the mirrors in the old farmhouse that you rented. You got rid of them immediately, tossing them into the river behind your new house and watching the current carry them away. There had only been four of them; one in the bathroom and one in each bedroom. If you needed to see your reflection that badly, you could just marvel at your tired, haunted appearance in the river water. You weren’t totally sure how his abilities worked, but you were fairly certain that he could only use the reflection of a mirror. It had been a few days and he hadn’t tracked you down yet, so that must be the case.

You were foolish enough to allow yourself to relax. It didn’t last long. Eventually, your paranoia would just not leave you alone. You started to notice an odd echoing sound that was driving you crazy. It sounded like a faint knocking at first and you ignored it, thinking it must be distant hammering from some construction work miles away. The echo carried far out where you were. The Italian countryside was beautiful, lined with mountains and flowering meadows, but it was not as peaceful as you had hoped. Another day passed and the knocking was beginning to sound like footsteps: slow, deliberate, stalking, mocking…

You couldn’t stand it!

It had gotten to the point that any reflection was unbearable. Each time you caught a glimpse of yourself on any reflective surface you would panic, expecting to see him standing behind you. He wasn’t there. He was never there. Still, you didn’t want to take any chances. The silverware was replaced with cutlery made from non-reflective material. The old brass knobs throughout the house were replaced with dull metal. You made it a point to stay away from the river from now on. If you didn’t stand in front of a reflection, then he couldn’t see you. You didn’t care if his abilities could only be used with mirrors. You were not taking any chances.

Another day or so passed. That echo was getting louder. Footsteps. They were definitely footsteps! They were closer than they were a few days ago. Now you could hear them coming up the driveway, up the steps, right up to the front door! Your eyes darted to the stained glass window adorning the door. There was nothing there. No familiar silhouette darkened the doorway. Still you kept glancing down at the knob as if expecting it to turn. It never did. You almost let out a laugh at how badly your imagination was running away with you, but the footsteps started up again. They circled the house a few times, giving off the air of someone who was on a casual stroll. You jumped up from your seat and ran to the record collection that came with the house when you bought it. The house was a treasure trove of old trinkets and homey decor left behind by its previous owners. The record collection was one of your favorites. At that moment, you needed it to save your sanity.

You picked a record at random, placed it on the record player, placed the needle in a random position on the record, and started the player. An old country song began to play, the twang of a steel guitar covering up the sound of the footsteps. As long as you couldn’t hear it, it was fine. You stared around the parlor trying to find something else to help you relax. Your eyes settled on the bookshelf next to the unused fireplace. Just as you did with the record, you chose a book at random. You didn’t care what the book was about. It could be anything from a dull historical chronicle or an ego-driven celebrity autobiography and you wouldn’t care. As long as it took your mind off of the overbearing feeling of being hunted, you would devour each and every word. You took a seat on the overstuffed sofa, relishing the softness of the cushions, and opened the book.

What the hell?

You stared at the page and the gibberish written there. You didn’t recognize the language at all. It wasn’t English, Italian, or any other language that you recognized… until you took a second look.

It was Italian… but the words were all reversed.

You shot up from the sofa, dropping the book to the floor in horror. That could only mean one thing.

A low, familiar chuckle startled you. You looked up to see the man you’d been trying to avoid all this time standing by the record player. He lifted the needle from the record, stopping the song and filling the room with silence. He turned to you, giving you a smug grin.

“I was wondering if you would ever figure it out.” he said with an uncomfortably calm laugh.

His smug expression became one of soft adoration as he turned to look at you.

“You really hurt me when you left, mia amata.” he said. “You promised that you would stay by my side forever…”

He began a slow saunter over to you and you backed up, staring at him with disbelief.

How did he find you?!

“Everything was peachy between us until you discovered what I did for a living. Honestly, I don’t know why that matters so much to you. I suppose it is a little scary if you aren’t used to that kind of thing, but as my lover you should be willing to stick with me no matter what. I know you’re scared, but you made a promise and I think it’s only right that you keep it. I gave you all of my love. Don’t you think you owe me the same?”

There was a dangerous undertone in his voice. He was angry, but the way he was looking at you made you wonder just how angry he was with you. His hand darted out and you flinched, squeezing your eyes closed in anticipation of pain. It never came. You opened your eyes to see him bending down to pick up your book. He opened it up and flipped through a page or two before closing it with a snap and placing it back on the book shelf. He offered you another smile, this one was devoid of the usual smugness. He was giving you the look of someone that was totally smitten. It looked out of place on his face now. You’ve seen his gleeful expression as he cruelly beat someone that made the mistake of accidentally locking eyes with you. You will never forget the rage in his eyes when someone got a little too friendly with you for his liking. You’d seen that dark side of him before and the image of it was burned into your memory. He didn’t seem to realize that you had already made your plans to leave him long before you found out that he was a Mafioso.

“I have to admit that I was pretty mad with you when I found out you were gone.” he said, suddenly wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you to him. “I thought you’d abandoned me… but I realized that you didn’t really want to leave me.”

You stopped struggling in his hold to give him a questioning look.

“What are you talking about?” he asked.

He pointed back to the record player.

“You probably didn’t even realize it, but you instinctively choose a song about a man who couldn’t stand to see his own reflection because he no longer saw his lover standing next to him. You were thinking about me, even though you didn’t realize it.” he said.

He ran a hand along your arm until he came to your wrist where he traced his hands along the bracelet you wore there.

“And here is another reason I know you still have the hots for me,” he said, voice taking on an arrogant, teasing tone. “You didn’t take off the bracelet I gave you, even though you knew it would lead me right to you.”

Your eyes widened and you pushed out of his embrace. He didn’t bother to stop you, just stood there in an odd pose while he watched the realization flow over you. You lifted your arm to your face and examined the bracelet. Along with the diamonds that adorned it, you were horrified to discover that the bracelet was lined with little mirrors. Illuso chuckled and you looked up at him, dread plastered on your face. He frowned when he saw your expression.

“Oh, wipe that look of shock off of your face.” he growled. “Stop pretending like you didn’t keep the bracelet on because you wanted me to come after you.”

“No,” you offered a weak protest. “I wanted to get away from you! I wanted you out of my life!”

Illuso’s frown deepened and he closed the distance between you. You tried to back up but your escape was blocked by the wall.

“Look, babe, I like playing a good old fashioned game of hard-to-get, too, but you’re taking this too far.” he huffed. “You missed me and you know it.”

He placed his hands on either side of your head and you felt your heart fall. You thought you’d managed to escape him for good this time. You thought you’d been so careful. You hadn’t even looked at the bracelet when he got it for you. You’d been so concerned with pretending to adore it and worrying about the blood money he’d used to buy it for you at the time. You hadn’t considered that it would be lined with mirrors.

“I have to admit that I’m getting a little tired of the game, though.” Illuso said, breaking you out of your thoughts. “This is like, what, your third time running out on me? Or is it the fifth? Well, whatever, it’s starting to piss me off a little bit. So I think that I’m going to put a stop to it.”

You looked him right in the eyes when he said that. What did he mean by that?

“What are you going to do?” you asked in a frightened whisper.

Illuso grinned in his usual smug way, but you couldn’t ignore the sinister feeling it gave off.

“I think I’m going to leave you in here, at least until you get over that little running away habit of yours,” he said.

“Leave me… in here…??” you repeated, not sure what he meant.

Illuso pushed off of the wall and looked down on you with disdain.

“Don’t act stupid,” he scoffed. “You saw the writing in the book was reversed. Surely you’ve figured out by now that I’ve pulled you into my mirror world?”

You gasped in horror. You sputtered words at him, but none of them formed a sentence. Illuso watched you struggle with your disbelief before he laughed and snapped his fingers in the air as if he suddenly thought of something.

“Oh, that’s right! I never told you that I could do that, did I?” he said. “That’s right, your lover boy can not only travel from mirror to mirror, but I can actually pull others into the mirror world with me. Heh heh, it took me a little while to catch up with you because I had to find this place in the normal world, but I managed. The way you ransacked this place of all its mirrors almost made me think that you actually didn’t want me to find you, but you kept the bracelet on, so I know that’s not the case. Either that or you didn’t think the mirrors on it were big enough. Just so you know, it doesn’t matter what size the mirror is, I can move through it and pull in others. In fact, you’ve been in the mirror world since about three nights ago. You’re a really heavy sleeper, by the way.”

The way he smiled at you then chilled you down to the marrow in your bones.

“You can’t keep me in here, Illuso!” you shouted.

Illuso scoffed.

“What’s stopping me? You can’t get out unless I let you out, so you can’t run from me anymore.” he said.

Suddenly he pulled you to him, both of his arms were wrapped around you in such a way that your own arms were pinned to your sides. You tried to squirm free but he tightened his hold on you.

“Quit that!” he shouted, annoyed by your struggling.

You froze and he smirked.

“That’s better. Now, I don’t really have anything important to do today, so I thought that you and I could spend some time together. You’ve been gone for so long and I missed you so much. I think we should make up for lost time. What do you think about that?” He said, planting a kiss on your cheek.

You whimpered pathetically, but said nothing.

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distantdarlings · 5 months

Text

SPEAK OF THE DEVIL // t. nott

RATING: R / 2.6K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* During an after-game Quidditch party, Theo approaches you, intending on reconnecting with his on-and-off ex, you. You are not interested, at least, not originally. He quickly changes your mind, though, just as he always does.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! No protection - piv, Language, slight praise kink, fem reader, slight begging, slight resistance from reader at first, dom!Theo

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Half of My Heart - Josh Makazo

---

The wind rushed against the Quidditch stands, blowing the team flags up and around the stadium. You gasped and ducked as one flew right over the Slytherin stands. Next to you, Pansy burst out laughing as you helped each other to your feet. It had narrowly missed her, as well.

“That was insane!” she laughed. The two of you huddled together in an attempt to pool some warmth between the two of you, to no avail. It had to be close to below freezing. You wouldn’t be surprised if the sky started dropping snow soon, and with the blanketed, gray light overhead, you figured that would be happening rather quickly.

Around you, shivering students chanted a few cheers for the Slytherin team, ensuring that the shitty weather could never get them down. Even the Gryffindor team had dampened a bit, but not the Slytherins. A prideful smile beamed on your face. Pansy and you joined in the hooting and hollering.

Overhead, three green jerseys swooped downward, causing several students to duck again. You thought you heard a few professors gasp over the cheers. Once the players had passed over the students, you saw them split and tackle different sides of the pitch. This was a strategic maneuver to get the Gryffindor beaters away from their seeker so the Slytherin seeker could focus solely on catching the Snitch. Anticipation burned in the air as the tension between the two teams swelled at this tactic. Merlin, you loved Quidditch. Who didn’t?

And in a matter of a few minutes, the Slytherin players had successfully deflected the Gryffindor Beaters’ attempt to ward them off, sacked a couple bludgers toward their Seeker, and allowed their Seeker enough time to spot the Snitch and soar after it. By the time he had caught the small, golden thing and dived back down into the main part of the pitch, the roar of the Slytherin crowd was deafening. You could barely feel your fingers or toes, but you couldn’t care less. Slytherin had won, which meant that the aftergame party was going to be fun.

The group of green-clad students began to pour out of the stands and toward the common room as the Quidditch players exited the field. Pansy ranted back and forth with you on the strategies used in this evening’s game. You laughed and teased the whole way back. The two of you had discussed outfits for hours after classes had ended today and, thanks to your obvious inability to remain realistic in your expectations, had set out your selected clothing for the party. In your minds, there was no way Slytherin wouldn’t win tonight, and you had been right.

Once back in the common room, students were flashing up the stairs, running to grab their outfits and stashed bottles of firewhisky, amongst other stashed things, so generously donated by the Hufflepuffs. The two of you giggled as you made your way into your dorm room, quickly shutting the door behind you. A few of your other roommates had already returned and were changing. The group of you squealed in excitement, ramping each other up. You all had plans for the evening, ones that had been discussed over secretive shots the night before.

Your plan was to find a bit of a distraction tonight. In the last year, you and your ex-boyfriend, Theodore Nott, had bounced on and off with each other. No matter how many times you had called it quits, you kept finding yourself back in his bed, beneath his strong, warm—

“Hey, come on!” Pansy shook you. “Get dressed!” You laughed along with her and began pulling your heavy winter clothing off. This was going to be a night to remember for all of the right reasons, not because of Theo.

You selected the dress you’d reserved especially for this party and slid it over your body, letting it fall down the expanse of your hips. Pansy appeared behind you to zip it up, marveling at its gorgeous design: a small black thing with a high neck and no sleeves. Perfect for the evening, in your opinion. You slipped into the black heels you’d picked out last night and pulled a necklace over your head. It was silvered with an ornate snake carved into the charm at the bottom of the chain. Nothing wrong with a little bit of house pride.

“Okay, let’s head down!” Pansy announced to the others in the room. The small group gathered closer and filed out the door. You gathered the larger group of students in the hallway filtering through the passageway and into the common room. Like magic, it had transformed into a gorgeous scene of celebratory banners and music. You poured into the enormous amount of students, all dispersing randomly. Pansy squeezed your hand politely before briefly leaving you to go find someone.

You pushed through the crowd, feeling the bass of the music pound in your chest. Excitement built in your chest, pushing small pants out of your lips. Your mind was set on finding someone new tonight and the anticipation of getting to know someone like you had once known Theo made your heart flutter. Then again, no one had ever known you better than he had. His hands had traveled every inch of your body and learned you so personally as if he had sculpted you.

“Looking for someone?” A sly whisper appeared in your ear. You shuddered at the feeling of the voice so close to you. You turned and came face-to-face with Theo. Speak of the Devil…You rolled your eyes and turned, intending to leave him behind. You weren’t doing this. His hand gripped your arm roughly, his eyes dark and needy when they found yours. Shit.

Your body slammed against the door of his dorm. You moaned loudly into his mouth as his hands ran smoothly up and down your body. Sculpting you, shaping you, just like always. Nobody’s hands compared to his. His fingers trailed up the outsides of your thighs, slipping slyly beneath the material of your dress.

Suddenly, he ripped the material up and over your hips. You gasped at the sudden movement, hissing as he bit down onto your bottom lip. Your hand slapped against his chest as a blossom of pain spurted against your teeth. He mumbled a breathy apology against your mouth before resuming his previous activities. His fingers curled beneath the thin waistband of your panties, slowly tugging them higher and higher. The material of the undergarment pressed against your core, eliciting a spark of pleasure behind your eyes. Your hands tightened in his hair.

“Mm,” you pulled away from his lips, “we shouldn’t be doing this.” You struggled to get the words out around his insistent kisses. Every syllable you spoke was lost against his rough lips, marking every inch of your own. “Theo, you know we’re just going to regret it.” Yet you didn’t stop kissing him back. You couldn’t stop. His taste, his touch, his smell…It was addicting, and pushed more heat between your thighs than anyone else ever could.

“Tell me to stop, then,” he mumbled into another kiss.

“What?” His lips separated from yours and began to trail down your neck. The cleavage parted in your dress granted him just enough access for his teeth to scrape the soft flesh of your breasts. A silent moan parted your lips as you leaned your head back against the door. His large hands held you firmly in place. His head began to move past your chest. As he lowered to his knees before you, his fingers slipped into the sleeves of your dress, wrapping tightly in the material. As he dropped before you, he roughly tugged the garment down over you. You yelped as your chest was exposed to the cold air. Your dress remained scrunched up around your waist as one of his hands traced delicately over your clothed core and the other massaged your left breast. You couldn’t contain your moans any longer.

“Teddy,” you moaned breathlessly, letting your favorite nickname for him paint the walls of the room. You never called him that unless he was pleasuring you in some way and, fuck, was he ever doing exactly that.

You ground your hips against his fingers, trying to gather a bit of friction against yourself. Just as you’d come into contact with his perfect fingers, he pulled away. He smirked devilishly at the whine that fell from your lips.

“Should I stop, baby?” he murmured against your lips. “Don’t want you to regret me…” He laid an open-mouthed kiss to the outside of your left thigh, maintaining darkened eye contact with you.

“No, don’t stop, please baby,” you begged, your hands curling in his hair. You tried to push him closer to you, to press his face to you. But you couldn’t, he was much too strong.

He got to his feet, pressing his face closely against your ear, his lips brushing against you. A shudder fell down your spine as your knees weakened.

“Beg for it,” he whispered. He pressed small kisses to your jaw, reiterating he wanted to hear you beg until you finally caved.

“Ugh, please, Teddy,” you whined, bucking your hips against his, eyes rolling back at the contact it made. “Please fuck me, baby. ‘ve missed you so fucking bad.” A smirk fell on his face as he lifted you into his arms, wrapping your thick thighs around his waist. Your mouths found each other again and he claimed every inch of your tongue as his own.

“Always miss me, baby?” he breathed into your mouth. “Think about this sweet mouth every day.” His hand gripped your jaw, holding it perfectly still. He walked the two of you away from the door and laid you against his bed, careful to set you down gently.

“Raise your hips,” he instructed. You did so, allowing him to slip the rest of your dress off your body. The only thing left on you was your thin underwear, already soaked through with your arousal. You shook in anticipation as his fingers slowly glided against your naked thighs. Your bottom lip sucked between your teeth. They crush down on it until you taste metal, the reddened material painting your lips.

“So pretty,” he moaned, pressing his mouth to yours. His spit mixed with your blood, his tongue carving a new taste against you.

His hands, rushed and rough, tore through your panties with strong, mean fingers. You whimpered against his lips at the sudden action. The tips of his fingers slid against your core, tracing your wetness all around you. Your head pushed back, separating your lips.

“Turn around,” he said. “Now.” You nodded your head and promptly obeyed, flipping yourself over. His hands wrapped around your hips and yanked your ass into the air. Your teeth closed around your folded arms, trying your best to keep your noises to a minimum.

Behind you, you could hear him undoing his trousers and pulling them down. The bed creaked and shifted as he got to his feet and slid them all the way off. Your hips swayed impatiently, waiting to feel his touch again, desperate to feel it.

“Please, Teddy,” you whined, spreading your legs even wider. You could feel the wetness from your core sliding down between your thighs, slowly coating his comforter. No one had an effect on you like this.

It never mattered who you were with. If they had magic fingers, the perfect mouth, none of them compared to Theo. Traits as simple as his voice had your legs pressing together, from the very moment you’d met him. The very first time he touched you had been imprinted in your mind, tracing your eyelids every time you closed them.

His fingers brushed against your entrance, sending shocks of fire through your body. You gasped and tightened your fingers painfully hard in his sheets. Merlin, this was where you were meant to be. Pressed into his mattress, inhaling his scent, his body claiming yours. Fuck, you were pathetic.

His hands wrapped around your hips, carefully lining himself up with your entrance before slowly pushing himself into you. Sharp heat split through your body, carving a line down your abdomen. It had been a while, but you hadn’t expected yourself to be so tightened up. Your muscles tensed roughly until he bottomed out with a breathless groan. You relaxed into the bed, barely holding yourself up. He gave you a minute, then two, until you nodded your head, eyes clenched and wanting. The two of you knew each other so perfectly well, no words needed to be spoken. He knew every inch of your body better than you knew it, yourself. His tongue and his fingers and every part of him knew you better than anyone else and he took you as such. He began to move.

The feeling of him moving himself back and forth, traced every part of you from the inside to the out. Your lips parted in a silent scream, relishing in the sensation you’d missed so dearly, that no one else could recreate. You could tell he felt the same way. A brief glance back revealed a flushed, pleasured Theo; his lips parted, musical grunts leaving his throat, his eyes fluttering shut. You’d have never known what he looked like if you hadn’t looked back, because he tended to be the “big man” in bed, always doling out your pleasure and keeping face. He wasn’t such a big man, you realized smugly, you were the same drug to him, as he was to you. A particularly sharp thrust had shoved a scream through your lips.

His hands slid up from your hips and found your chest. He swiftly pulled you up and against his chest, his sticky skin melding with yours. His hips never faltered and the change in position had him hitting new parts of you. His lips were against your ear, whispering sweet nothings and kissing the areas surrounding.

“Feel good, baby?” he groaned. You nodded weakly. “Yeah, baby, yeah?” His pace fastened, the speed working you towards the end of all things. Your breaths came out in short, hot pants. His fingers curved over your chest, tracing the tips of your breasts, forcing your end closer and closer. You tightened around him at your fast-approaching finish. He groaned at the sensation.

“Mmm, missed this fucking cunt, baby,” he grunted out. “Always squeezing me so well.” His lips pressed to your neck, creating a tight suction with his teeth anywhere he could. The bruises he left there were going to remain for days, alerting all who spotted them that you were his and no one else’s. The thought was enough to push you over the edge. You came around him hard.

The sensation of your finish pushed him against his, which he announced with one more whiny moan and shaking thighs. His hot release painted every inch of your insides, soothing the rough force with which he’d fucked you.

The two of you collapsed against the bed, side-by-side, and watched each other with heavily-lidded eyes. And once again, you realized, the two of you were back in the same position you always were. The regret hadn’t yet had time to bury itself into your stomachs, and the guilt hadn’t made its way to your hearts yet, but in the few hours after, you’d graced each other with immeasurable pleasure; that was your favorite. His thumb traced gently over your lips, shaking slightly with the afterglow of your love.

#fanfiction #creative writing #fanfic #writing #reader insert #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #oneshot #slytherin #harry potter smut #theo nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott #fem reader

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turtletaubwrites · 2 months

Text

A Good Catch ~ Part 1

✨600 Followers Fic Celebration!✨

I am so grateful for all of you! This has been such a wonderful time, and having all of you around to nerd out with, and to share my writing with is the best! Shanks won the poll for the next x Reader fic, and I hope you enjoy it!

Pairings: Shanks x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4367

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 (End)

Ao3 Link

Summary: You are an unlucky fisherwoman having a bad day, until a red haired pirate captain offers to help you out. You're pretty sure he only makes it worse.

Rating/Warnings: 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Angst, Teasing, Flirting, I feel like there's some romance tropes I could tag, but I usually just write smut, so please let me know what silly tropes I have in here 😅

A/N: I am having so much fun with this one! I'm doing my best to keep it to 3 parts, so wish me luck 😅 Please enjoy this fluffy first chapter!

“Now I’m gonna get murdered by pirates,” you grumbled to yourself as the ship crept ever closer. “Just fucking perfect.”

The windless sea was no challenge for the massive pirate ship. All you could do was sit with your pile of fish, jealous of the huge oars guiding the threat to you.

Dread loomed as that jolly roger closed the distance, like an animal baring its fangs before it strikes. Crossed blades, and a sinister skull with red stripes over its left eye socket.

You didn’t pay enough attention to the gossip and wanted posters to remember who was headed your way.

Not that it matters. They’re pirates.

It was too much to hope that they’d pass you by.

A few voices carried over from the deck, until a tall man leaned over the side. His bright, red hair hung still against this stupidly windless sky.

“Hey, friend,” he called, the sun at your back giving you a glimpse of his wide smile, even from so high above you.

“We’re not friends,” you countered, crossing your arms to keep him from noticing your shaky hands.

“I suppose not. You seem like you’re in a spot of trouble though, and we’re happy to help.”

His deep voice sounded so friendly. Genuine. Charming.

He’s just trying to lure me into his trap. Who knows what they’d do to me on that ship…

“The sun’s getting pretty low for a small boat to be all the way out here,” he judged, trying to block the glare as he looked down at you. “I don’t think we’ll be getting much more wind today.”

“Thank you, I’ll be fine.”

His pause made your skin itch, wishing he would stop looking at you.

“We can bring your boat with us. I’m assuming you’re from that village a ways to the west?”

It must have been a trick of your eyes, it couldn’t happen so quickly. But you swore the day inched closer to night faster with every second. You watched the light grow golden as it lit up the red haired man, and his pirate ship.

Fuck.

“I refuse to be rescued,” you choked out, nails digging into your arms.

“Okay,” he said in an annoyingly teasing tone, “if you insi–”

“I’ll pay you for the service! I had a great haul before…”

“Sounds good to me,” he laughed, deep and hearty. As if he were truly happy.

You had thought pirates would seem scarier. Maybe this is worse.

You barely heard his shouts as men started to lower ropes down, prepping to save you.

“You should know I’m armed,” you yelled up at the back of his head, continuing when he faced you again. “Anyone touches me, and they’ll lose a hand.”

“I’ll be on my guard then. I’ve been running out of those.”

You didn’t understand, or appreciate his teasing while you waited.

“Welcome aboard!”

Pirates echoed the red haired man’s welcome, and you assumed he was the captain as the rest busied themselves about. He sat on deck, calm as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Now that you were so close, you couldn’t help but notice the rippled muscles of his chest and stomach between his mostly open shirt.

Besides the cloak over his shoulders, he didn’t seem to wear anything that could mark him as captain. Unless his red hair, and three scars over his left eye…

“Oh.”

“Oh,” he asked, moving to stand beside you.

“The jolly roger,” you pointed to the menacing skull. “You must be the captain.”

“Good eye,” he leaned in with a smile.

His smile should have a completely different word. The sight from your boat was nothing compared to seeing the way this man's lips curled slowly, the left side starting first as it grew, as if he was enjoying the act of smiling itself. And his eyes…

His eyes were way too close to you.

“Are you alright?”

Concern broke that smile, and he called for someone to bring water.

Your face flushed, hot to the tips of your ears. You realized that you hadn’t heard what the pirate had said because you were too busy swooning over his pretty eyes.

The water was welcome, and you gulped half of it down, suddenly embarrassed about how fucking fishy you must smell with your day’s catch beside you.

“Is there anything else you need, miss…”

Trying to catch your eyes, the pirate leaned toward you. He reached for your shoulder, and you jumped back, spilling water down your chest.

“I’m so sorry, love. I forgot about your warning.”

His soothing voice felt real as he went to a knee in front of you.

“I do hope you will spare me my fate, I swear that no one on this boat will forget it again.”

He’s really too charming. He’s either the sweetest person in the world, or some sort of demon with powers of seduction.

You nodded. It wasn’t like you could truly defend yourself anyway. The fear of being at their mercy kept you hyper aware of all the moving bodies around you.

“How long until we’re at the village?”

The sun was almost gone from the sky now, and you just wanted to be home. To scrub this stupid day away, and pass out.

“It should be about three days from now.”

“Three,” you choked out, dropping the now empty mug of water, which he caught without taking his eyes off of yours.

“We’ve got some business on the other side of the island. We'll be stopping by the village to restock supplies before we head out.”

“You didn’t tell me that,” you snapped, voice louder than you meant it.

He just smirked, tilting his head.

“Sorry, love. Would you like us to toss you overboard? I don’t think you had many rescuers lined up.”

For some reason, you couldn’t get your mouth to remember that these men could kill you as you growled back at him.

“You didn’t rescue me. I paid you for a trip back to the village.”

His lips quirked as if he was fighting not to smile again. He looked down at your haul, fish still flapping in the net.

“That is a really nice haul, miss. Afraid it’s not enough for a direct trip, though.”

Pirates came to take your fish away, and it broke the spell his irritating eyes had on you.

“Please, save this one! You can have it, just… Make sure you cook it well.”

The two men with the net followed your gesture to that fish, assuring you they would obey before taking it away.

“Why’s that one special?”

The weight of this long ass day hit you, a heavy sigh leaving your lips before you looked back at that pretty captain.

“It was a good catch.”

He huffed a laugh, the clear amusement he got from your words making you simultaneously annoyed, and pleased. You were mentally smacking yourself for that.

Don’t be attracted to pirates, dumbass.

“I’m Shanks. I don’t know if you heard me before, but…”

Your skin flushed again, and he seemed to notice, a warm, evil smile slowly forming on his lips.

“What’s your name?”

“You don’t need to know it.”

He gave a real laugh then, loud, and infectious. You had to remind yourself that he was laughing at you.

“What would you like us to call you then, huh? “Fish Girl?” Maybe “Fail Boat?” Or how about “Damsel in Distress?” I think I like that–”

You ripped your hand back as soon as you’d realized what you’d done.

But it was too late.

Your idiotic, suicidal hand had shot out and smacked him, hard, right in the center of that gorgeous chest of his.

The deck roared with laughter while you shook with horror. Shanks had looked down at his chest, and when he lifted his face to yours he looked stunned. If you hadn’t just signed your own death warrant, you might have thought his face comical, brows raised high, with his mouth and eyes wide.

“Go easy on the girl, captain,” teased a tall man with gray hair, shaking his head at Shanks.

“Yeah, come on, captain! What kinda hospitality are you giving, insulting our guest like that?”

A whole group of pirates crowded around him, reprimanding him, and giving him a few gentle punches and shoves.

Your mouth hung open. The sight of these pirates being so playfully disrespectful toward their captain didn’t fit in your brain. None of this made sense with what pirates were supposed to be like.

“Fine. Fine! I’m sorry, miss…”

He’d broken away from his men, leaning toward you with that question.

“Y/N.”

He hit you with a new grin to outshine all the others, making your breath hitch.

“What a beautiful name for a damsel in distress.”

You didn’t need to hit him this time, as pirates did the job for you, even throwing things at him from across the deck.

Maybe it was the overwhelm, the fatigue. Maybe you’d gone insane.

But laughter built in your stomach, growing through your body, until you were shaking with it. You had your hands on your knees as it took you over, and the pirates around you joined in.

How can pirates be laughing and smiling like this with me? How can it be genuine?

Amidst the continued roars of his men, Shanks shook his head, gesturing for you to follow him.

“Where are we going?”

“I’ll show you.”

Frowning at the back of his head, you followed through the wooden halls until he opened a large door, gesturing for you to go inside.

He rolled his eyes when you hesitated, before going in first.

The large room was tiled, with lockers and showers, and there he stood in the center, grinning like a creep.

“I’ll pass,” you deadpanned, backing out the door.

“Come on, fish girl,” he taunted, “you stink, and I think you’ll be easier to clean than the blankets you’ll sleep in tonight.”

Blood rushing to your face again, your mouth opened and closed as anger and embarrassment fought to take over.

Shanks laughed again, but tried to stifle it.

“Sorry, you’re just,” he motioned to his lips, mimicking your movements. “You’re a fish girl.”

“Shut up,” you seethed, leaning toward him. “I’m not taking a shower on a pirate ship when anyone can–”

“I’ll guard the door for you, okay,” he assured, finally seeming to take something seriously. “I’ll make sure no one comes in.”

Now his stupid smile was soft, small, and sweet. You hated it.

“Oh right,” you scoffed, “like I'd trust a pirate captain. Who’s gonna stop you from coming in?”

“What makes you think this pirate captain would even want to come in here, huh?”

“Fuck you,” you breathed, turning to leave.

He was so fast. You jumped back as he blocked the door. He saw your wide eyes, and moved out of the doorway so he wouldn’t block your exit, but he still leaned close.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. Really, okay? I promise I will sit right outside this door, and not let a single person come inside until you’re done. There’s fresh clothes for you over there too. Whatever you need.”

A very fine trembling worked its way around your body as you studied him. It seemed like such a bad idea to trust him.

But you were exhausted.

“You’ll sit in front of the door?”

He straightened up, a look of relief brightening that serious face.

“I will.”

“Will you wear a blindfold?”

“If that’s what it takes,” he agreed with a smirk.

“And let me tie your hands behind your back?”

Shanks sucked his teeth as he leaned back. You had a second of fear as he started taking his clothes off.

But all he removed was his heavy cloak, revealing that he was missing his left arm.

Guilt hit you, apologies about to pour out, but he held his palm out.

“Afraid I can’t do that, but I promise I’ll do the rest. Is that alright, Y/N?”

This is really nice soap.

Still on edge, your body started to relax a bit with the delicious smelling soap on your skin.

But every time you felt a moment of relaxation, you’d remember the pirate on the other side of the door.

“You’ve gotta make it tighter, sweetie. Otherwise it won’t work.”

That fucking sentence kept tearing through your brain. The way he’d run his fingers across yours while you adjusted the cloth to blindfold him. The way his hair and skin had felt and smelled as you moved it into place. The way he’d rasped those words while he grabbed your wrist to guide you, giving it a gentle squeeze before letting his fingers trail down your skin.

The way you had let him touch you without arguing. His fingers had taken advantage of the moment, but it had felt almost electric to let him.

“Fuck,” you muttered to yourself.

“Y/N, is everything alright?”

“Uh, yeah. Thank you.”

How did he hear that over the shower?

“What the hell is this?”

“Sorry, love, I'm afraid I can't see what you– ow, hold on!”

You definitely had a few red hairs between your fingers after ripping his blindfold off.

The pirate captain got to his feet to meet your eyes, and fucking snorted.

“What is wrong with you,” you fumed, tossing the blindfold at his face.

The fact that he caught it before it hit him only pissed you off more.

“There has to be something else I can wear,” you demanded, pulling at the frilly lavender dress he stuck you with. You looked like some creepy porcelain doll.

His face was going as red as his hair as he tried not to laugh.

“I’m sorry, no one’s– we don’t have anyone your size,” he choked out, clearing his throat before continuing. “We have a few more dresses like this, though. They were supposed to be a gift for a princess, so you should feel honored!”

“Fuck you.”

His lips were fucking quivering as he fought his laughter. His eyes flicked down to your clenched fists, and he relented.

“Right, sorry, okay! You can have some of my clothes, you’ll just have to roll them up, alright?”

Very judgmentally looking him up and down, you raised your brows at him.

“Do you have any shirts that actually button up all the way? Or do you expect me to let my tits hang out like yours.”

Shanks cackled then, catching himself on the wall, his eyes even tearing up a little.

You kicked yourself for saying something so sexual in front of a fucking pirate.

“You’re a funny one, fish girl,” he teased between hiccupped laughs, “but you definitely look like a damsel in that dress.”

You kicked the pirate for being such a dick.

“Fuck, sorry,” he huffed, wincing as he rubbed his shin where you’d kicked it.

“Follow me. I definitely wanna get you outta that dress– I mean into different clothes,” he almost yelled, warding off a slap with his arm. “So you stop hurting me!”

Practically boiling with a mix of anger, embarrassment, and fear, you let yourself be guided along. The lantern lit halls were roomier than you would have expected, and you could hear the distant voices of the crew.

“Here we go,” he said gently, opening another large door. He went in first again, and you entered what had to be his quarters.

Of course. We’re getting his clothes.

It was full of rich, dark woods, red blankets, a desk that seemed to have more bottles of alcohol than anything work related on it, and a delightful, almost spicy scent filling the air.

The room was a bit messy, and you felt out of place standing there in that frilly dress while he dug through his wardrobe, tossing clothes to the ground as he searched.

“Here, love, how about these?”

“Do you have a belt?”

Managing to roll, buckle, and tuck at his clothes, you were mostly satisfied as you checked the mirror.

Even with all the buttons done up, you still had to tie his shirt to keep your chest from popping out like his does.

“You almost finished? The party’s star…”

Those pretty eyes brightened when you opened the door. His little smirk made you frown, and he held his hand up.

“You were right, Y/N. This definitely suits you better.”

He offered that hand to you, and even in the warm glow of the lanterns, you could see scars, callouses, and thick veins that made your breath hitch for a moment.

Your hand had almost reached his when he pulled away.

“Almost forgot,” he teased, his voice somehow lower than normal as he stepped out of the doorway for you. “I’ll lose my only hand if I touch you, right?”

“I…”

“Well, I definitely won’t risk that.”

He stepped further back, letting you follow him into the hallway.

Your brain seemed to stutter, unable to join the moment as it flew through conflicting emotions.

Like why it upset you that he wouldn’t risk it.

Shanks moved in close, his spicy scent filling your lungs as you looked up at him.

“Just let me know if that ever changes.”

He turned away after a subtle wink that made your brain short circuit.

“You comin’? I’m hungry.”

Still barefoot without your fishy shoes, you chased that red hair down the hallway.

He really is some sort of seduction demon.

“Hey, girly. Is this jackass treating you alright?”

“This is how you talk about your captain?”

The older man with long, gray hair ignored Shanks’ protests as he looked you over.

“You should be more worried about him,” you grumbled, narrowing your eyes at the captain.

“Ha, I’m sure you’re right.”

He grinned down at you, before motioning toward the fire.

“Come on, the food’s almost done.”

The crew had found a remote beach, and set up camp. Their camp supplies seemed to be mostly alcohol.

Shanks had said they had business here, and that they’d go to the village in about three days.

What kind of business are pirates getting up to on my island?

The thought was pushed aside as Shanks called for you. Most of the pirates were holding their plates, or using boulders or crates while they ate. Captain Shanks had a dingy little table by the fire, and was waving you over.

“Come on, love. Let’s eat, and find out why that fish of yours is so special.”

The day's events hit you again, but you joined him in a mismatched chair, and grabbed a fork.

It smelled good.

“Here,” Shanks demanded, shoving a mug of some kind of alcohol into your hand, before standing and lifting his own to address the crew. “Here’s to our luck! We found an unlucky fisherwoman, and now we’ve got good eats. To Y/N!”

The sheer volume of their enthusiasm made your eyes go wide as you faked a sip.

“So tell me, fish girl,” he leaned toward you, the small table not leaving much space between you. “Why is this fish so special?”

Ignoring him, you focused on your plate. The way it looked and smelled was perfect, but you had to know.

He watched your movements, following along as you pierced into the flesh, bringing the first bite to your lips.

It was perfect. Whoever had cooked it had treated it right. The tender meat and the subtle flavor were given just the amount of spice to balance it out.

It would have sold well. After all it took to get it, you were grateful that it didn’t go to waste, and tasting it yourself was wonderful.

Even if you were sharing it with a pirate.

“This is incredible, Y/N. You really are a fish girl.”

Letting out a sigh, you dug in, trying to enjoy the meal that had put you in this situation. The night was filled with the sounds of music, laughter, and endless calls for cheers, the clanging of metal mugs like the shifting heartbeat of this joyful crew.

“So, I had someone take a look at your boat, in case we could help fix it.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my boat,” you spat out, wishing you could have enjoyed your meal in peace. Without this too fucking handsome and annoying pirate captain.

Shanks tapped his fingers on the table, a smirk playing at his lips.

“That was the report,” he said softly, the teasing tone building slowly in his voice. “They did say that one of the oars is missing.”

“Thanks for the report,” you grumbled, watching the fire now.

“Come on, just tell me what happened. How’d you get stranded out there?”

“It’s none of your business.”

Your face felt hot, the fire not close enough for the burning in your skin.

“Consider it payment then. For my clothes, and for my company,” he taunted, his voice dipping low.

“I could do without the latter.”

“You wound me, sweet damsel.”

He put his hand to his heart, chuckling at your frown before chugging whatever was in his mug.

“It was a really good catch,” you mumbled, giving in. He scooted even closer to you, excitement in those lovely eyes, mixing with the light of the fire.

Shanks kept that beautiful mouth shut, just tilting his head toward yours as he waited.

“My grandma used to talk about her best catch. That was it,” you said flatly, gesturing to your empty plate. “She made me promise that if I ever caught a fish like that, I had to eat it myself, eat it with friends.”

“Don’t waste a fish like that on berry, sugar. It’s a gift.”

He raised his mug as you mimicked your grandma’s voice, and you brought yours up with a sigh, still just pretending to drink.

“I’m honored, then. Your grandma was right, that fish was amazing.”

Memories of her seemed to join you at the table, bittersweet, and heavier than you’d like.

“Sorry, Y/N. You, uh… You doing okay?”

“I’m fine,” you coughed, a hint of anger back in your voice as you fought against the prickling in your eyes.

“Well,” he drawled out, extending the word for way too long, “you still didn’t tell me how you got stranded out there with nothing but the perfect fish.”

Groaning, you put your forehead on the dingy table and blurted it out, as if you could make it not true if you said it fast enough.

“I caught the fish. I saw what it was. It started to slip through my hands. I knew it’d sell well, so I didn’t want to lose it. I ended up tripping over one of the oars. I should have let it go, I could have grabbed the oar if I’d seen it slipping. But I was greedy. I wanted to sell that stupid fish instead of eating it, and now grandma’s probably cussing at me from the afterlife.”

Shanks at least had the decency to shove his knuckles between his teeth before he started laughing.

“Oh, fuck you,” you huffed, standing to leave the captain’s dingy table.

“Wait, please,” he called, catching your fingers in his, and pulling you back toward him. Only to drop your hand as if he’d been burned when you met his eyes.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean–”

Whatever you might have said was lost in a wave of too many things at once. Humiliation over the whole thing, fear that these pirates could still hurt you, especially if you fell asleep, and the burning in your stupid cheeks because this gorgeous asshole held your hand.

What the fuck is wrong with me today?

The moon was mostly full, so there was plenty of light on the sand as you walked away from the camp. They were so fucking noisy, but the ocean beckoned for you to sit, gentle waves like your grandmother’s sweet voice.

When she wasn’t giving me shit, you thought with a laugh, digging your toes in the sand.

“The ocean makes me feel better too.”

His deep voice annoyed you more than it startled you.

Shanks sat beside you, but not too close.

Ignoring him did not make him go away.

“What do you want?”

“I wanna make your shitty day better. How can I do that?”

“Take me home.”

“Three days on that one, love. Anything more immediate?”

Your plan to stay up all night was already failing, exhaustion dragging you down.

His eyes were so soft under the moon, the hint of a smile brightening his face.

“I don’t want to sleep out in the open with everyone. Is there somewhere… safe where I can sleep?”

Shanks nodded, looking down as he cleared his throat.

“Of course, let me take you now.”

The ship itself seemed to be sleeping, so quiet with only a handful of crew watching it as the rest camped on the island.

Red hair under lantern light guided you through those wood paneled halls again, until he led you to the guest quarters.

“Here’s the key, and you’re welcome to shove this chair under the door knob as well. Breakfast will be at the beach in the morning,” he laughed, running his fingers through his hair. “It’ll probably be the afternoon depending on the hangovers, but you– Are you alright?”

He knelt at your feet, looking you over as you slumped onto the bed.

“How long were you out there today? Have you been drinking water? Are you…”

This charming pirate stopped himself from touching your forehead, and some insane, fatigued part of you reached out, grabbing his hand with both of yours.

“I lied,” you confessed, voice quiet and close, his pretty eyes on your lips. “I can’t cut your hand off. I’m not armed.”

The slow smile he gave you now was your favorite, somehow making the light in his eyes shine brighter. Your hands reluctantly let go of him as he shifted, but instead of moving away, Shanks touched his calloused fingers to your cheek.

“Your secret’s safe with me, sweetheart.”

Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: I am obsessed with these two now. What the heck. I need Shanks to make fun of me like that 😅

Tag List: @shewrites02

Part 2

#shanks x reader #red haired shanks #x reader #reader insert #fem!reader #one piece x reader #one piece fics #turtletaub fics #follower celebration #fic requests #mine #fluff #one piece fluff #shanks fluff #shanks fics

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